Mihawk was in a bad mood even before he got out of bed.

Sleeping on a comfortable mattress had done nothing to make him forget Buggy's announcement from the night before. Going to this party would mean admitting in front of the whole world that he was now the Jester's personal knight. Which meant that his anonymity would take an end, as well as the 'mystery' surrounding his whereabouts.

For the first time in more than a year, Shanks would know where he was, and the thought made Mihawk uneasy. He had never talked to anyone about what happened, never explained the reasons behind his sudden departure to Crocodile.

At first, it had mainly been because he had expected their paths to split quickly. But it didn't happen. Crocodile was a discreet man, and had never questioned Mihawk's choice. In fact, he never asked questions. Which could easily be the reason why Mihawk had never told him. That, and the fact that he wasn't sure how the older man would react. They may get on well, but it didn't mean that Crocodile was to be trusted with such information.

Indeed, Mihawk had no idea how Crocodile would feel if he actually told him that he and Shanks had been once more than just friends.

Shanks had been the one to seduce him, constantly making innuendos and advances to the other man. Mihawk had been surprised, at first, by Shanks' ease and shameless behaviour. Caught out and not indifferent to the man's charms, Mihawk had ended up in Shanks' web.

And, at first, it was great. Shanks appointed him as one of his personal knights, shared his bunk at night, and arranged to meet in the garden in the late afternoon. Until Mihawk caught him, one day, making out with his advisor Benn Beckman.

Mihawk had confronted him, obviously, but Shanks had simply shrugged, explaining that Benn was the most important person in his life, and that Mihawk had to get used to it. Absolutely pissed, Mihawk had decided to make out with a random woman at a party in town the following night, not worrying about the consequences. The news obviously reached the Duke's ear, and Mihawk woke up the following morning to the sight of Shanks sitting on a chair across his room. Cutting an apple with his only arm left, Shanks had announced to him that he'd forced into exile the woman Mihawk had slept with the previous night.

Taken aback, Mihawk had gotten out of bed angrily telling Shanks that he couldn't just act as he pleased and get possessive with him even though he still did as he pleased.

Mihawk would always remember the way Shanks had coldly retorted 'I can do as I please, and you can't. You're my knight, Mihawk, know your place.' Before he rose to his feet, grabbed him by the neck and roughly kissed him.

Stunned by Shanks' unexpected mood swing, Mihawk had stayed silent during the entirety of the journey to the summit in this random town he couldn't remember the name of. He'd held his head high, acting as nothing had happened in front of everyone, and even with Shanks, who had visibly calmed down. But Mihawk's mind had been made up the minute he'd caught Shanks with Benn.

Meeting Crocodile in that tavern had been the last push he'd needed, and he left town with the scarred man on the last day of the summit.

They laid low for a few weeks, travelling incognito, and reached the Duchy of Normandy. Hearing that the Duke was looking for soldiers, they showed up, and after some sparring tests, joined the guard. The rest was history.

During all this time, Mihawk had not once alluded to the fact that he liked men, and though he hadn't seen Crocodile look at a woman once, he didn't quite feel like telling him. Not that he would have, had he known that Crocodile didn't care. They didn't talk that much.

Still, to hide his sexuality and past was one thing, but he doubted it would be the same with his identity, especially in public. People would recognise him, for sure.

And, at this point, he didn't know how Shanks would react when he'd learn about his whereabouts. But it wasn't like he had much choice. He couldn't possibly explain it to Buggy and Crocodile.

He'd have to grit his teeth and hope for the best. It was always what he did.

Buggy called them in at the agreed time. The blue-haired man watched through the window as he waited for the two men to join him, the sun illuminating the grass of the castle's courtyard.

Unlike the previous day, he had put his makeup on before leaving his chambers, and was fully dressed.

Crocodile and Mihawk walked inside the room together on time, both already dressed in armours. They nodded as greetings, and sat across each other, Buggy at the end of the table.

Both men removed their helmets unprompted. Crocodile was sitting right where the sunbeam lit the room, his face glowing under the yellow light. Wordlessly, and before Crocodile changed seats, Buggy watched intently the scar barring his face. He'd caught glimpses of it before the morning in the throne room, intrigued by its size and the quality of the scarring over. To have survived such a cut was a feat, and Buggy couldn't stop but wonder how it had happened. It didn't look like a battlefield injury, as it probably wouldn't have been just a surface cut. Buggy would not ask about it. He had to admit, though, that it gave Crocodile an air of mystery. Added with his tanned skin, and his dark half-long and slicked-back hair, it made him stand out from the crowd of soldiers. Especially when he was paired with Mihawk, his piercing eyes, moustache, and sideburns not leaving him unnoticed either.

Buggy bit the side of his tongue as he realised that he'd been ogling at the two men while they waited for him to talk. Blinking a few times, he straightened up, palms setting on the table.

'Alright. The party, then. It'll take place at Count Rasiphe's, in Lisieux, forty-five kilometres from here. We'll go by cart, you'll be with me, while Mohji will be mounting one of the horses with one of the valets. The latter will stay with the horses during the party and will sleep with Count Rasiphe's servants.'

He paused, making sure both men listened, but they simply looked at him, silent. He was feeling slightly intimidated by them, actually. Crocodile's size and Mihawk's gaze were.. troubling. But he kept going, as it was actually rare for him to not be interrupted.

'The party will not involve that many people, there should only be a few nobles, including Rasiphe. I'll be the only Duke, though. We will be sleeping at the castle, I'll probably be in a room near the Count's, while you will sleep with Mohji in a room ready for the occasion. We will leave the following morning.' He paused, before concluding, 'All in all, it should be calm and there shouldn't be any problem.'

He was about to ask if they had any questions, but noticed the frown on both men's faces. Protest rose before he could even say anything.

'Are you stupid or what?' Crocodile asked, at the same time as Mihawk said 'Oh you're a dimwit, huh.'

Buggy sputtered at the insults, taking offence 'How dare you speak to your Duke this way?!'

Both men were unfazed, looking at him with bored faces as they waited for him to really react. He did so by asking a question in return, his shoulders sagging. 'Alright. What's the matter?'

'We're sleeping on a different floor from you? Isn't it defeating the entire purpose of having knights here to protect you?' Mihawk asked.

'You can't possibly imagine we'll sleep in the same room?' Buggy answered, incredulous.

'And how else would we protect you if someone was to attack you in the middle of the night?' Crocodile countered.

Buggy fell silent. It was the first time he had someone assigned for his safety. He realised, here and there, that he had not thought things through, only now taking in the actual implications of appointing two soldiers for his safety.

He removed his hat, letting it fall on the table. He scratched the left side of his head, sighing.

'You have no idea how this should happen, right?' Mihawk asked, jaded.

'We are to not leave your side at any time in unknown territory.' Crocodile said, leaning his elbows on the table. 'You must always be within sight, and within reach. You should listen to us when we're ordering you to do something for your safety, and you must be able to trust us.'

Buggy squirmed, Crocodile's commanding voice making his cheeks heat. He got out of his seat, walking to the window, scared the older man would notice his reddening ears. He waited a few seconds to regain his composure before he talked again. 'Yes, well, Lisieux is not unknown territory, and as far as I know, I am not in direct danger.' He paused, frowning. He realised that he had not heard about the man who had attacked him ever since the attack. Had anyone bothered to question him? To ask for his motive? He decided that he'd pay him a visit at the end of the meeting.

He barely stopped himself from running a hand over his face, almost ruining his makeup. 'Okay, what would you suggest, then?'

Mihawk was the one to speak. 'The cart is fine, as long as it looks like any other cart a low noble would use, it would automatically put a target on us otherwise. We'll take the main path, no need to improvise and uselessly put you in danger. If there is no adjoining room, we'll be positioned in front of your door, and take turns sleeping throughout the night.'

Crocodile didn't seem happy with the prospect of having an intermittent night, but Mihawk didn't give him the chance to negotiate.

'You mean that you'll go back and forth in the corridor where everyone else will be sleeping?' Buggy asked, alarmed.

Mihawk nodded, and Buggy immediately shook his head. 'There's no way, you'll wake everyone with your shuttling.'

'What are you suggesting, then, Jester?' Crocodile asked sardonically.

Buggy instinctively clenched his hands at the nickname, not hiding his irritation. 'You'll sleep in my room, I refuse to make a fuss out of it.'

The room fell silent, and Buggy barely stopped himself from grunting frustratedly, annoyed at everyone in the room right now, himself included. 'I'll let Rasiphe know, any other grievances?'

Crocodile and Mihawk seemed to think for a moment before they shook their heads, 'Nothing, Sir.'

'You may leave, then.' Buggy said, before actually crossing the room and leaving himself. He did not miss Crocodile's smirk, but chose to ignore it. The meeting had pissed him off more than he'd expected, his knights having made fools of him.

He closed the door behind him, and left quickly, not wanting to awkwardly have to make the walk back to the main floor with the two men he'd just left.

He decided to head straight for the gaol, thinking back about how he'd totally forgotten about the man who had actually tried to kill him. How come none of his men had told him anything about the assailant?

Buggy took a cobbled path he had not used in months, not having ever really needed to go to the gaols yet. He hoped it wouldn't become a common occurrence.

The guards at the door seemed surprised to see him, unsure of the procedure. Buggy had to order them to step away to walk through the door. He had not warned anyone about his visit, it being totally unprompted, but he shouldn't have to. He was the Duke, after all.

The slacking off guard sitting at the entrance jumped to his feet when he saw him, hastily saluting. 'Gr-Greetings, My Lord!' He exclaimed loudly, visibly not knowing how to act in the presence of a Duke.

Buggy raised his hands, urging to calm down. 'At ease, soldier, this is no inspection. I came for an inquiry, actually.' He paused, thinking his words through. 'What is your name, soldier?'

'Huh, Albéric, Sir!' the young soldier exclaimed, visibly surprised to be asked such a thing by his Duke.

He mustn't have been older than Buggy, that much was obvious. If there was something Roger had taught them both, to Shanks and him, it was that disdain would lead you nowhere. Better to befriend your men instead of turning them against you because of your contempt. It was a teaching Buggy constantly remembered, especially since any help and ally could be precious in his situation.

'Alright, Albéric,' Buggy started, ready to proceed to a discreet questioning without the boy even realising it. Hoodwinking had always been his strong point, lying to everyone around him to assure himself a proper position. He was good amongst the nobles, in his element, surrounded by lies and pretences. It didn't mean that he enjoyed it, though. He'd always struggled with honesty.

'So, did you or the other guards get anything out of my attacker's interrogation? His reasons, or the name of the person who paid him for it?'

The young man seemed to think for a few seconds before his eyes lit up. 'Ah!' he exclaimed, 'the boss wrote something on a sheet of paper about it the other day, would you like to see it?'

Buggy raised an eyebrow. 'Of course, Albéric, that'd be perfect.'

He watched the young man turn to the desk at the end of the room and open the top drawer. He fished through different notes, until he slipped a yellowing sheet out and pushed the drawer closed. All smiles, Albéric handed him the page, which Buggy accepted wordlessly.

The blue-haired man read it attentively, ignoring Albéric's gaze on him. The writing was scribbled, but it was not the first time he read a report from the head guard. The account recalled the attack's events, and then featured the transcript of the discussion the head guard had had with the assailant. The man seemed to have refused to give his name, though the guard seemed to have noticed a foreign accent. Other than that, the man seemed to answer only in cryptic answers, and after hours of fruitless questioning, it seemed that the head guard had simply given up on getting any more information out of him.

Buggy looked up from the report, handing it back to the young man. 'Thank you, lad. Could you lead me to the guy, please?'

'The head guard?' The boy asked.

Buggy shook his head. 'The prisoner.'

Albéric nodded, putting the sheet back where he found it. He gestured to Buggy to follow him, and they walked away from the entrance and further into the corridor.

The castle didn't have that many cells, most of the prisoners of the city being outside of its enclosure, so Buggy was not surprised to find empty cells here. The man they were looking for had been put in the last cell of the hallway, away from everyone else.

He was sitting with his back against the wall, head down against his knees, dark hair hiding his face. Large chains attached to the wall seemed to be holding him down.

Buggy turned towards Albéric, silently gesturing for him to leave. Obviously reluctant at the idea of leaving the Duke alone with a man who'd tried to stab him two days earlier, the young man eventually left, seeing that the duke was adamant on his request.

Buggy took the time to take a proper look at the man across from him. He looked like any other man Buggy could find in the city, short dark hair, white skin. He didn't wear pauper's clothes, though it was not nobility either. The thing that actually stood out were the blooming bruises on his uncovered skin. Buggy had no doubt it had been caused by his men. He couldn't say it was a method he approved of, but there was a time where, when prisoners refused to cooperate, people had to take drastic steps.

Having taken the time to watch the other man in detail, Buggy finally decided to do what he'd come here for.

'What is your name, prisoner?' He asked, first.

Unsurprisingly, the other man didn't answer. He didn't even react.

'Do you know where you are, and why you're here?' Still no reaction. It didn't deter Buggy, though.

'I am Buggy, Duke of Normandy, the man you attacked and tried to stab. Could you tell me who appointed you?'

The revelation of his identity seemed to tickle the man's curiosity because he finally lifted his head. His gaze was unsettling. Not quite deranged, but surely not indicating a sound mind.

With a raspy and low voice the man finally spoke up. 'Jester, you, here.' It was the man's turn to observe him now. 'Still standing, as I see.'

'Well, you were not able to touch me, if you recall.' Buggy retorted.

The man didn't react, though he kept looking at him. Refusing to let himself be intimidated by a chained man, Buggy kept pushing. 'Who sent you, then?'

The man smiled, though there was no sympathy on his face. 'You'd like to know, huh?'

Buggy nodded, eyeing him down.

'You won't, Jester.' The man shook his head, before he tried to inch closer, voice lowering down. 'Would you like to know a secret?'

Squinting suspiciously, Buggy said 'Go ahead.'

'I don't know either. Someone paid me to kill you, but they used an emissary. Someone wants you dead to the point of paying someone to do it, but you'll never know who. At least I will not be the one to tell you.' The man said with a smirk.

Seeing as the man clearly didn't know anything and was just a pawn, Buggy decided that there was no use in staying here any longer. He turned around and walked away, throwing a last sentence to the tied man. 'Don't forget that you have failed in your mission, nutter.'

'Did I really miss my shot, though?' The prisoner asked, trying to stand up despite the chains.

'What?' Buggy asked, stopping in his tracks.

'Do you think I was really sent to kill you? Or was my attempt a way to instil doubt in you?' He paused. 'Did you sleep well that night? Or the following one? Or did you stay awake, unable to sleep, thinking about how some people wanted to see you dead?'

Refusing to hear more, and, with his back to the other man, Buggy decided to leave the room, but he did not miss the last sentence the man threw at him, screaming. 'People are coming after you, Jester! You're a dead man walking!'

Heya!

I wrote this chapter at a time when I still didn't know where this fic was going, so I remember struggling with the prisoner's part, as it felt like writing it from scratch! I like it though!

Also, I hope you're enjoying the different POVs, I couldn't decide whose I wanted to write this story through, so I just opted to use the three of them. I like the way it looks, hope you do too!

Anyway, don't hesitate to leave favs and comments, it actually motivates me to write more and always make me happy! See you on Wednesday!