There was one mirror in the hall of the palace that had survived the general mayhem of Dressrosa falling apart and being put back together, and Cavendish stood in front of it primping in a way that in anyone else might seem nervous. But as he spent more time fussing over the finer details of his outfit than most people ever did, it didn't seem out of the ordinary to the few people passing by.

Rebecca however could tell that he was out of sorts, and she stayed quiet as he fiddled with every last detail right down to the buckles of his boots. Eventually he straightened his ruffled collar, fluffed his hair, and gave his sword handle a final buff with his sleeve.

"How do I look?" He asked Rebecca, doing a slow spin on the ball of one foot so she could inspect him.

"Handsome as usual." She said with a sigh, chewing her bottom lip. "But Father's still going to kill you. And I don't even know what Aunt Viola will do."

"You have no faith in my charm."

"Even you can't charm my family into agreeing to this." Rebecca said, linking her arm through his. "Even if miss Robin did give you such a nice commendation."

"It'll be fine." Cavendish insisted, and the smile he gave her was the vision of a man with perfect confidence.

His rigid posture said otherwise though, and Rebecca swiped a rose from a vase they passed for him to shred as they walked. Any other day she would tease him that his preoccupation with chewing on rose petals was no different than her nervous habit of chewing her lip, but she didn't want to make him any more flustered than he already was.

They had asked her father and aunt to meet them in the library since it was away from the main area of the palace, and Rebecca stopped short of the carved wooden doors.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" She asked one last time.

"Of course." Cavendish told her with a wink. "However, you have my full permission to use Durandal if there is any imminent danger to my life or my looks."

And ignoring Rebecca's exasperated roll of her eyes, Cavendish threw open the library doors and strode confidently up to Kyros and Viola. Kyros scowled, but Viola smiled as Rebecca came forward to stand alongside Cavendish.

"To get straight to the heart of the matter," he said with an elegant bow, "I want to ask your permission to marry Rebecca."

"Absolutely not!" Kyros thundered at once, putting a hand to his sword hilt. 'She's sixteen!"

"I don't mean to marry her now!" Cavendish said soothingly, edging backwards just the slightest bit. "I was thinking of an extended engagement of perhaps ten years or so."

"Then you can ask in ten years!"

With the speed that had made him a formidable fighter even as a toy, Kyros lunged forward and grabbed Cavendish by the scruff of his neck and tossed him right back out the door. Rebecca ran after him with a surprised cry, wincing as the library doors slammed shut behind her. Rebecca could hear her aunt's voice under her father's ranting, and she sighed as she knelt next to Cavendish and helped him sit up from where he had landed against the opposite wall.

"Well, that could have gone better." He said to her, gingerly rubbing at his head.

"I told you it wouldn't work."

"Yes. But you know I am nothing if not optimistic!" He said, accepting her help to stand upright and brushing himself off. "And I would still count this as a success!"

"What?!" Rebecca exclaimed, nearly walking into the wall in shock. "How?"

"He said I could ask again."

And Cavendish kissed the top of Rebecca's head with a grand smile. "What's ten years to the Pirate Prince anyway?"