Two

Pickleberry gracefully swiped the small curtain aside to see the world beyond her rolling carriage. Her eyes could pick out tourists on the street, as local residents dress in a more "haute couture" type of fashion. She doesn't dislike seeing tourists flooding her hometown, knowing that their patronage in Rouge Kingdom adds up her family's fortune. Her father Bilberry's enormous company owns many of the upscale brothels, bars and casinos adored by tourists after all.

"Miss Pickleberry, your purse," Pickleberry's spaced out mind didn't feel the thing sliding off her legs and fell to the ground. Buckthorn the intimidating body guard + errand boy of her father's picked it up and held it in front of her. He was in the carriage too, no matter where Bilberry goes, he goes.

Pickleberry slightly nodded her head after casting a reserved glance at Buckthorn's black shades to show acknowledgement. Buckthorn is creepy, according to the rich miss. Always wearing shades regardless of the surroundings. Too tall, too stoic, with an insensitive voice.

Bilberry told his intimidating servant to pour them some champagne to ease the boredom, which he complied without a single word. Bilberry doesn't feel the same way as his daughter. He trusts Buckthorn and feels comfortable in his presence.

Pickleberry only sipped the tiny amount equal to a grain of rice. She mostly just puts the cup under her nose to breathe in the champagne's scent. Alcohol's taste doesn't appeal to her. Beer especially, she thinks it tastes like yeasty urine.

"Berry pie, if you don't like it, just give it to Buckthorn," says her father. Berry pie is her nickname only her father is allowed to use. The girl's mind is immediately occupied with grossness thinking about Buckthorn drinking something she previously sipped. Wouldn't that be like an indirect kiss or some sort?! Her face contorted into an awkward countenance and handed the champagne cup to the man in black, who gulped it down in a surprisingly classy manner.

The carriage halts in front of a lavish mansion, the Mayor's house. The man who is hosting the cocktail party for Rouge Kingdom's elite.

"We are here."

Buckthorn dismounted the carriage first and stood by the door erectly, waiting. Bilberry followed, finally Pickleberry's turn. Buckthorn gentlemanly stretched out his long arm to let her hold onto for balance. Pickleberry ignored him and purposely hoped off in a childish manner, an action that almost twisted her ankle, sending cold sweat to her backside.

"Hmph!" She looked away.

Buckthorn: ...

Some confident, upper class people stood in front of the grand mansion entrance, harvesting the fresh scent of neatly trimmed rose bushes, while socializing with each other. Bilberry the big shot and his company's arrival attracted their attention as their eyes are now on them. Pickleberry did not feel slightly embarrassed as she is used to being under the spot light. However, she noticed among the elites stood a Marine officer followed by a lower ranking solider.

"Miss Pickleberry! Look this way!" Two people in formal wear took her attention. She locked eyes with two denden mushi camera men working for the local newspaper. The snail cameras began snapping pictures of her and Bilberry. No big deal. She didn't smile, giving a cold, aristocratic vibe.

A strong gust of wind suddenly came and blew the ladies hair out of fashion. "Ohhh! Oh!" They cried.

"Ahhh!" The solider's handheld stack of paper got taken away by the wind. He panicked and meekly glanced at his officer to see if he's mad before begin chasing the flying sheets. Some gentlemen helped amassing the fallen papers too. One of them glided under Pickleberry's foot. She picked it up; it's a Wanted Poster.

"Trafalgar Law," she reads.

Her eyes widened for a millisecond when she saw the bounty: 200 000 000 belli, almost the price of her family's vacation ship. It's no big money for her, but she knew full well it's a heavenly number for average people. What's so special about this guy, deserving such unusually high bounty?

"I'm so sorry!" hastily apologized the soldier as he took the poster away from Pickleberry's grasping fingers.

"Wait!" she called out, scaring the hat off the Navy soldier. He froze, cheeks famin' red. He already developed a tiny hormonal crush on the tall, elegant Pickleberry since seeing her for the first time. Wearing a simple, graceful updo, high statured body clad in a slim dress. With heels, her height greatly surpasses the lad in front of her, which further intimidates him. Knowing her social status, he's too shy to look her in the eyes. "Y-yes?"

The Marine officer sighed at his subordinate's embarrassing clumsiness. She saw through the solider's typical teenage boy mind but didn't really care. Such sheepish and scrawny man is a turn off, although she's condescendingly enjoying the effect she has on him. "Who is Trafalgar Law? Why is his bounty so high?"

"I'm glad you asked, Miss." The officer cut in, much to the solider's relief; the inside of his pants is already on the verge to go bazooka. "We are here today to inform you honorables to please increase personal security measures at the World Government's request. Pirates of of the Worst Generation has been committing notorious crimes in various islands since arriving in the New World through Sabaody Archipelago a few months ago. Also referred as the Eleven Super Novas, each pirate's bounty exceeds 100 000 000 belli. Trafalgar Law has one of the highest, please watch out. I'm going to make an official announcement later with complete details when all the guests are here."

"I see," replied Pickleberry.

She couldn't help but subtly glance at the poster once again, now in the solider's hand. Her eyes locked on the picture. That confident grin on those chiseled features made Pickleberry looked again and again after briefly retracting her gaze. Why couldn't she stop looking? The more she looked into Trafalgar Law's eyes in the picture, the more this new sensation bloomed inside of her. She couldn't believe this, but she feels she is developing a crush... on a pirate!?