Two hours later Marco, Shaw—a lieutenant of the First Division—and a woman whose clothes clearly marked her as a member of the Bethesda community stood on the main deck of the Moby Dick. She walked stiffly, avoiding eye contact with anyone, and when she saw Edward sitting beneath the mast, she turned pale. She felt the gaze of the most powerful crew in the world resting on her, and it was far from comfortable. They watched every movement carefully, even though they pretended not to be interested in her presence.
On the upper deck to the left stood Namur, and at the sight of him the woman froze and almost turned back. The fish-man snapped his powerful jaws with clear disgust and turned his back to her, and the eyes of the witnesses around them immediately grew colder.
"There is nothing to be afraid of."
She heard the quiet reassurance near her ear and swallowed hard, unable to control the fear she felt when she looked at the fish-man again. His blue skin and shark-like features seemed grotesque in the company of humans, although only she seemed to think so. The crew paid no attention to it whatsoever. Among them there was complete acceptance of Namur's otherness, and without meaning to the woman felt a sudden respect for them and contempt for her own fear.
She recognized Fossa among the crew—a bulky pirate who was said to smoke one fifth of the world's tobacco. His letter had reached Bethesda a long time ago from the nearby island of Glass Forsythia, where Fossa was rumored to have come from.
Among the gathered pirates she noticed curious glances, but none of the faces showed any desire to harm the newcomer, something she had feared when she came to the port. At first it had been difficult for her to believe Marco's story about the child he had found. Pirates were hardly known for their gentleness, and those she knew would sooner kill a baby than take it aboard their ship. But the longer Marco spoke, casually describing the girl and his reaction to her crying, the more she began to believe him, and she grew particularly interested when he mentioned the color of the child's eyes. Marco had described them as golden, but in her experience men rarely had the ability to judge colors properly. She decided she would see for herself.
"Old man, this is Rida."
She bowed respectfully, and when she straightened up her eyes involuntarily slipped toward the source of cheerful childish laughter. Lerena was swaying on all fours, rocking back and forth before happily stuffing two fingers into her mouth and squeaking with delight. All of this was happening right at Edward's feet, and Rida thought that the little child was standing in the safest place in the entire world.
The woman stood straight with her arms lowered along her body, and only the way her hands clenched into fists revealed her nervousness. Her cool, delicate facial features betrayed nothing, just like her dark, deep eyes. When Marco introduced her, her narrow lips trembled slightly, as if she wanted to unleash her true fear upon the world, but she quickly regained control and swallowed again.
"She's afraid," Haruta whispered to Fossa as they observed the entire situation.
Fossa knocked the ash from his cigar into the sea and chuckled briefly.
"Not surprising. When you see a giant who could wipe out an entire battalion with one move, it's bound to send shivers down your spine."
"And you think we're going to give her Lerena?"
"And that's another matter entirely."
The Emperor's yellow eyes studied the woman carefully, and when he finally spoke his deep, calm voice filled Rida with even greater respect. She had no difficulty imagining the panic Edward spread among his enemies whenever he ordered his divisions to attack.
"Do you want to take care of this child?"
Once again she swallowed hard. With all her strength she wished that her voice would not tremble, but standing before the Most Powerful Man in the World, she could not hide her fear. The power radiating from Edward was overwhelming, and Rida felt as if she would suffocate if she remained aboard the Moby Dick for too long.
So how could this child chatter so happily, again and again, without fear, kicking against the Emperor's black shoe as if demanding his attention? According to Rida, the little one should have been so terrified that she would not even dare to cry.
"Your son, mighty Emperor…" she began slowly, "told me that he found a child on the beach of this island. He said the girl was several months old and had golden eyes. May I see her?"
She knew she could not allow herself even the smallest disrespect aboard Edward's ship, and every word had to be chosen carefully. Everything she knew about Whitebeard and his crew came from rumors: he was patient and forgiving, but anyone who insulted his sons never survived.
Edward did not answer her immediately. For a few moments he continued watching Lerena, but at the woman's question his yellow eyes returned to her again. The captain remained silent for a long time, as if he were considering the possibility of an attack from Rida, and his gaze slowly hardened.
She wanted to retreat, but fear held her in place. It was the kind of fear that wakes a person in the middle of the night when they hear a strange sound and suddenly cannot breathe. She felt that her question had awakened his vigilance, although she had no idea why. In her opinion she had said nothing wrong, but the Emperor's face suggested something entirely different.
"Marco."
The pirate stepped forward immediately and took the child into his arms without a word, understanding that the Emperor did not wish to entrust the girl to a stranger, at least not yet. Rida understood this as well and did not reach for the child, but she watched very carefully.
"She is eleven or twelve months old," she said in a slightly broken voice, smiling faintly as she watched the baby stretch her hand toward a long necklace, "but the color of her eyes is not natural, Captain Newgate."
"Demon, not a brat, I told you from the beginning!" Thatch shouted, turning toward Marco. "Why the hell did you take her from there? That's where all this trouble started."
"What do you mean by that?"