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Though his hands did not tremble, his breathing was shaky.

Mihawk walked to his desk, sitting down to read the letter. His fingers lingered on the pendant against his chest, until he unsheathed the small knife hidden inside the cross.

The swordsman deftly unsealed the envelope, taking the yellowish parchment out and unfolding it. He recognised Akagami no Shanks' handwriting.

Biting his lip in a rare display of nervousness, his eyes fell on the first sentence.

So you were in Falaise.

I should have known, as you are a cruel man, Dracule Mihawk.

I did not care for the news of your presence in Normandy, by my brother's side. There are limits that, I believe, should never be crossed. And yet, I have been a patient man from the start. Know that I did not look for you beyond the necessary research when you took the decision of deserting me. Despite the fact that you broke my heart, that day, Mihawk. If your purpose was to afflict me, know that you've succeeded.

But I'm a changed man now, and I forgive you. I forgive you, and am ready to have you by my side again.

A war is brewing, and your place is beside me, on the battlefield. Forsake Buggy, he does not possess the calibre to see this war through. The throne of England belongs to me, and I will not let neither Teach nor Buggy seize it. Together, we can defeat them both.

If that is of concern to you, there is room for the Desert King. As for Buggy, he remains my brother, and will not be harmed. He simply is not fit to be King.

Think about it, Mihawk. Teach is heading for England as I am writing, and I shall meet him there. Soon, I will meet you, too. Soon, I will come your way, and I know you'll wait for me. I know.

Shanks.

Mihawk's hands were still shaking when he set the letter down. Outrage had now replaced apprehension. Mihawk was seething. This note was a spit in his face.

He had dreaded the moment Shanks would learn about his whereabouts. He did not have any nightmare about it, but would have preferred so. Would have preferred to see it pester him in his sleep instead of inhabiting his mind every second he was awake. The nagging feeling at the back of his mind that the day would come where someone would be sent to retrieve him, and his peace would be broken.

Crocodile's presence had gradually appeased this feeling, and Mihawk had accepted the fact that this time would come soon the moment he had agreed to be Buggy's knight. He knew, then, that his identity would be revealed shortly, and it had been.

Shanks' letter, thus, was nothing of a surprise, but his presumptuousness filled Mihawk with rage. Nothing had changed since his departure. Shanks still saw him as his. A man to drink with, a soldier to dispose of, and a body to take as he wished.

To his eyes, Mihawk was something to own. And it seemed like he saw his own brother in a similar way, not even bothering to imagine that Buggy could protest.

Maybe it was even worse, the fact that he did not even deem Buggy capable of standing up for himself. He wasn't even offered a place by Shanks' side, though it was a poisoned chalice Mihawk knew not to let the sweet taste deceive you.

How self-centred Shanks was, to believe that Mihawk's escape had been to hurt him, how he could not realise that he was the reason Mihawk had fled. How belittling it was, to see that Shanks did not even think that Mihawk could betray him. The admission of Teach's destination being an inestimable piece of information whose revelation could backfire if Mihawk was to use it ill-advisedly.

Somehow, from Shanks, this felt like an admission of his fault, a proof of good faith to appease Mihawk's mind. But the fact that he did not even consider the possibility of Mihawk rallying behind Buggy, or escaping a second time, still showed that he had no understanding of the situation.

This thrown information like a gift to a child who would come running back to his parents the moment he would be shown that he would get but a slap on his wrists for his mistakes. And how presumptuous of him, to offer a place to Crocodile just like he would throw a bone to a stray dog Mihawk would have found on the way. It was contempt in its purest form, and Mihawk could not accept that.

Mihawk unclenched his jaw, rubbing at his chin in thought. He had to inform Buggy of the turnaround of situation. Teach going straight for England was not a possibility they'd taken into consideration, and it brought out major changes.

However, Mihawk couldn't see himself going to Buggy with this new information without mentioning the letter, and thus, its contents. He'd have to expound on his past relationship with Shanks, the reasons that had driven him to leave Aquitaine, and it was something Mihawk wished to avoid. If he could hide it indefinitely, if not forever, then he would do it.

Sighing, he put the letter back inside the envelope, breaking the wax seal with the back of his knife and throwing it inside his bin. It was useless, as the letter itself bore the name of Shanks, but in a castle where barely no one knew how to read, Shanks' straw hat was more of a proof that his name on a piece of paper.

He slipped the letter between two books on his shelf, not wanting to get caught wandering inside the castle with a letter potentially associating him with treason. He rubbed his forehead with the side of his left thumb. No matter how hard he tried to picture it, he had no idea how Buggy would react to any of the information inside the letter. Going straight to the Duke was not a good idea, especially since he currently gave the cold shoulder to his knights.

Mihawk had to find Crocodile.

Buggy was going around the castle looking for Cabaji, to no avail. It wasn't an urgent matter, he simply wanted to talk strategy again, but it seemed that his advisor was not around. It wasn't supposed to happen, he and Mohji having to always be available for him, no matter the time or the place. Or so it was what people thought should happen. It was not how Buggy worked. This, and the fact that he had never quite needed them for pressing matters in the past, which had probably supported their habit of not being around most time.

Sighing, Buggy decided to walk to the room where the domestic staff lounged. If Cabaji himself wasn't inside, maybe the other employees would have a clue.

He did not knock on the door when he pushed it open, not wanting for his appearance to disturb anyone inside. Contrary to the beliefs, he knew to appreciate discretion.

He was about to step inside when snippets of conversation caught his attention.

'Do you think the Duke knows?' A man whispered.

Buggy frowned, pricking up his ears.

'I don't know, the instructions did not specify that he had to be given an update on it. All I needed to do was slip the envelope under Hawk Eyes' door, and that was it.' Another man answered.

'It's easy money, that's unfair! How come you're always the one who's offered the nice deals?' The ushered voice complained, pissed off.

'It was easy, but I almost got busted because of that fucking seal, it got caught under the door and I had to force to make it slip inside.' The man grumbled.

A sealed letter? Delivered to Mihawk? Buggy stepped back inside the corridor, closing the door unnoticed by the two servants.

It was weird, why would anyone but him receive sealed, and thus designated, letters? What if it had something to do with Teach? What if the man was already on the edges of Normandy?

Buggy retraced his steps, looking inside rooms he'd checked minutes before, looking for another man, this time. But it seemed that the castle's ground floor was empty. He walked to the training field, but there was no one here either. He climbed the stairs to the guard's floor, but no one seemed to have seen the knight.

He hadn't checked everywhere yet, but the situation didn't look good to him. Buggy was starting to think about all sorts of things, making up irrational scenarios in his head.

In an effort to stay calm, he walked to his room. He passed Mihawk's.

He considered it, and decided to knock on the door. There was no answer.

He insisted, knocking again. No answer. He was about to walk back to his own room, when he realised that he owned a skeleton key. He could, potentially, open Mihawk's door, if he wanted to. He shook his head, walking back inside his own room, throwing himself on his bed.

He waited, keeping his ears open to see if anyone came back, but there was no sound in the ducal corridor. No sign of Mihawk.

After half an hour debating on what to do, Buggy cracked, grabbing the skeleton key from his bedside table. He stepped outside the corridor, holding his breath as he stood before Mihawk's door.

He knocked again, despite not having heard a sound ever since he'd walked inside the corridor earlier. Unsurprisingly, there was no answer. He looked around one last time, and slipped the key inside the lock. It clinked, and the door opened with a groan. Buggy stepped inside.

The room was clean, nothing showing through, just like Mihawk. His bed was made, his window was clean, and nothing stuck out of the wardrobe.

Buggy crouched under the bed, feeling stupid when he found nothing. The bedside table's drawer was empty, and so was the desk's. With a sigh, Buggy sat at the chair by the bureau. He rubbed his hands against his face. He was fucking stupid. Creeping into his knight's bedroom like that, acting like a thief, even though the man had nothing to reproach himself for.

Buggy looked up, reading the titles of the books on the shelf. Some were in Spanish, ones Buggy couldn't decipher. The Norman ones were familiar, obviously. There was an English one, too. Mechanically, Buggy reached for it, wanting to read some extracts to see if his memory was rusty. He was surprised when a letter fell from the shelf.

Buggy froze, looking at the letter with wide eyes, as if it wasn't what he'd been looking for in the first place. There was no seal on the envelope, but Buggy had a feeling it was the one the soldier had delivered unquestioningly.

Buggy looked at it for a few seconds before he reached for it hastily. He couldn't be caught sweeping now.

He slipped the letter out of the envelope, unfolding it and losing no time. His heart skipped a beat as his eyes fell on the handwriting. Buggy could recognise it with his eyes closed.

But why would Shanks send a letter to Mihawk? The blue-haired man read its content, feverish.

By the end of the letter, Buggy's vision was blurred by his own tears, Shanks' name the last word he read before he blinked, feeling the tears fall on the desk.

He let out a nervous laugh which turned into a sob as he put the letter down.

What a funny turn of events. What a cruel stroke of bad luck. It seemed that it was the only thing in Buggy's life, bad luck. This, and the seemingly constant and central theme of treason tiling his life.

He should have seen it coming. Had seen it coming, actually. Mihawk's and Crocodile's double-dealing. Two worldly reputed mercenaries accepting to be Buggy's personal knights, and for what, a bed to sleep in and two meals a day? Buggy was fucking stupid. They could go anywhere, had gone everywhere, and for some reason he'd thought it was just natural for them to establish themselves in Normandy, under his orders?

Buggy thought he was going to faint. He was out of breath, spiralling.

He thought about the scene he'd caught in the shed two days ago. In the heat of the moment, filled with envy and appreciation, he'd thought that, when Crocodile had mentioned him, he'd been associating him with fucking. Now Buggy wasn't so sure anymore.

'Well, I did really think you were going to lay him down on the floor right there, in the middle of the training field, and do it.' Had he been talking about hurting him, then? About disposing of him?

If this was the case, Mihawk's sentence took a chilling turn, then. 'Bet you regret it didn't happen, freak.' Had Crocodile been fantasising about his killing ever since the start?

And Mihawk's answer, then. 'The Jester is not ready yet.' Was there a date fixed? Was his deposition or death written down in a calendar somewhere in Aquitaine, all the details behind the handover of power arranged by Shanks himself?

Buggy felt like throwing up. Was it how Shanks had always seen him? A duffer, good for nothing, undeserving of the duchy of Normandy? Buggy could take the treason from his advisors, or from his knights. It wasn't so uncommon in their worlds. But from Shanks, his brother?

Buggy knew blood ties ruled this world and prevailed over anything, but he had hoped that his relation with Shanks had been different. Stronger than people had painted it out to be. Something else, than what people had tried to call it.

But it was not the case, and the people had been right. Buggy and Shanks shared no blood, and for a little more power, Shanks was ready to besmirch this sixteen-years old connection born across the pond.

If it was what the red-hair wanted, then so be it. Buggy didn't have the strength to fight anymore. He had no one to fight alongside. And he had nothing to fight for. Buggy was certain that if Shanks was to take control of the Duchy, he would do a better job than him.

Wiping his tears-stained cheeks, Buggy slipped the letter back inside the envelope. He had a mind to put it back where he'd found it, but decided against it. At least Crocodile and Mihawk would know why he'd gone.

He set the chair back in its place and walked outside of Mihawk's bedroom. He did not lock the door. He walked back to his room, changing into his favourite clothes, dark pants, black boots, and his orange cloak. His hat to hide his face on his way out. On second thought, he opened the wardrobe and got a long black coat out. It was one he never really wore, though he'd often wanted to. But it wasn't a proper ducal coat. Buggy didn't give a shit about being ducal anymore.

He dropped the cloak, put the coat on instead, laced up his boots, and let his hair drop from the ponytails. He wanted to feel his hair fly in the wind on his way. He left the room unlocked. He did not intend on coming back.

Buggy hurtled down the stairs, heading straight for the stables. If he'd gone up while looking around for his men, he was now actively avoiding them. He thought he'd caught sight of Mohji's grey hair, but he did not linger to see if it was really him.

He reached the stables quickly, heading straight for his horse's loose box. Not losing time, he equipped the Friesian, everything necessary being within easy reach. He was scratching his horse behind the ear when he heard a small voice.

'Sir?'

It was the valet from Lisieux. He was looking at him, frowning, obviously wondering why Buggy was getting his horse ready at such a time of the day.

'Are you going somewhere?' The young boy asked.

Buggy reached inside his pocket, walking to the valet. 'Hold out your hand.' He said gently.

The boy seemed to hesitate, and Buggy nodded encouragingly, looking at his hands. The valet complied, holding his right hand open in front of him.

Buggy dropped a few coins in his palm, closing the boy's hand afterwards.

'Not a word to anyone, alright? It's between you and me.' Buggy paused, thinking. 'If the two knights that were with me at Lisieux come to find me, you're allowed to tell them I took the horse, but to no one else, alright?'

The young boy nodded, pocketing the coins. He stepped away, his eyes lingering on Buggy one last time before slipping away.

Buggy sighed and grabbed the lead rope. He led the Friesian outside, scratching his flank one last time before mounting.

He crossed the castle's gate inconspicuously and disappeared inside the streets.

Mihawk found Crocodile inside the chapel, looking at the stained-glass windows. The day was not over yet, but the light was already starting to set down.

'I can admire craftsmanship when I see it.' Crocodile said, anticipating an answer to a question Mihawk had not uttered yet.

Had it been any other day, Mihawk would have joined him, or at least answered something else, but he didn't have the heart.

'You need to see something.' He simply said.

Surprisingly, Crocodile looked towards him immediately. Maybe it had been the tone he'd used, or the obvious fact that he'd been running around.

Crocodile crossed the room in quick strides, frowning. 'What's the matter?'

Mihawk motioned for him to follow, explaining while they were walking away. 'I received a letter. You can guess from whom.'

Behind him, Crocodile clicked his tongue, annoyed.

They walked to the room without saying a word. Mihawk got his key out quickly to open his door, but was surprised to find it already unlocked. Frowning, he got into a defensive stance, pushing the door open.

Inside the room, he found the envelope sitting on his desk, and nothing else. He cursed. 'Fuck.'

'Do you think the Jester found it?' Crocodile asked.

Mihawk looked up, eyes wide. He had certainly not thought about it.

They rushed out of the room, straight to the Duke's, not surprised to find it unlocked as well. There were clothes missing, but nothing out of the ordinary.

He couldn't possibly have gone that far, Mihawk had not left for a very long time. They decided that they should not split up, looking around the castle together as to not gather any more attention than they already would by wandering around. Crocodile did not know the content of the letter, but knowing the sender, it could incriminate Mihawk, and him too, maybe.

Seeing as they found nothing inside the castle, they decided to start looking around. Naturally, the stables came first. And they didn't need to look around too much. All the stalls were occupied but one, on the very far left of the corridor, where Buggy's Friesian usually was.

The valet from the other day had appeared behind them at some point, and he nodded towards the empty stall, simply saying 'He came to get his horse, and left.'

So, how did you find this chapter?!

Let me know in the comments! See you on Wednesday!