Oliver stopped midway when his eyes caught a woman in his peripheral sight. It was the same young lady he had encountered back in the secluded garden; the maiden of exquisite beauty. 

But there was something peculiar about her when she appeared in front of them; back then her eyes were bright and stirred. Now there was nothing more evident in those eyes but fear.

The king was silent, and once again the new commodore witnesses his majesty's hands balled into fists. He feels a tremor pass through him—is the princess in grave trouble with her father? Straightaway, King Gaius manages to wear a grin. "Ah, my child! Lucrecia, come over, my precious flower."

"Of course, his majesty, father."

"Very well, let me introduce you to this wonderful family..."

Oliver wanted to rush out of the royal estate. He knows trouble when he sees one. If only he could take the maiden's hand and get her out of this hell of a manor, and bring her somewhere far and safe from her father's grip, he would have. But all he could do now is act poised and calm. The king introduces Oliver to his daughter.

"At last, the two meets! I've been waiting!" the king chuckles in delight. "Commodore Oliver Stevenson. Meet my only daughter, Marie Lucrecia."

"Pleasure to—"

"Your Highness—oh, uh, apologies..."

"That's alright."

The fine couple lets out a slight chuckle upon their tangled-up introductions. Oliver immediately bows her head, just like how he practiced, "Your Royal Highness, Princess Marie Lucrecia. It is a pleasure to finally meet you."

Lucrecia performs a curtsy, "Pleasure, Commodore."

Oliver straightens his body, offering his hand to the fair maiden. She takes it, and like a jolt of electricity, the young commodore felt undeniably flattered when her skin touched his. And once again he feels himself cringe at his thoughts—the commodore had thought deep in his mind how Lucrecia's skin felt almost like Angelina's. 

Being a sea criminal, her hand was calloused yet it still looked attractive, and it felt very comforting, too. Oh, how he missed touching her skin...

He bows, placing a light kiss at the back of the young lady's hand. Oblivious to the princess, he slightly rolls his eyes. It's not like he wanted to kiss anyone's hand. Did he suffer and sacrifice too much in the navy only for him to kiss the hand of a woman he isn't even acquainted to?

She as well, felt tingles in her stomach the moment Oliver had kissed her fair, polished skin. "You are a gentleman, Commodore. It is no doubt."

He shifts his head to take a closer look at the princess, and somehow the lad wished he never did. Only a few inches across him is the face of a woman of great sophistication and royalty—Lucrecia's eyes beamed even when they were of anxiousness. People always mentioned how she manages to still look exuberant whenever she conversed nonsense matters from posh royalties for hours, pretending to be interested.

At last, he was able to witness closely how she batted her lashes, and when he thought she looked beautiful from afar; she appeared like a goddess up-close. But he thought Angelina is the most dashing.

"...you are the epitome of beauty and elegance, Princess."

"You flatter me too much, Commodore," she chuckles. "Thank you."

He knew he needed to keep her as far as possible from her father, the king. Indeed, King Gaius never chose wrong, because Oliver was the most brilliant of them all. Lucrecia was witty enough to read what was written in those eyes of his, and when he offered her a stroll, the princess never resisted.

"Apologies, his majesty. King Gaius, may I take Princess Lucrecia for a quick stroll around the royal estate? I would like to get to know her Royal Highness well."

The King's eyes glimmer in delight. He shoots the lad the brightest of smiles and beckons for them to stroll away, however they like. "Ah, that's what I wanted to hear. You may, young man."

The couple strides away from the royal estate, strolling anywhere but near the king. No one had the courage to initiate to converse yet, but it just had to be Oliver, whatever happens. "Princess Lu—ow!"

"What are you doing! You fool!"

"What was that for?"

Oliver massages his swollen cheek, its pain stinging his skin. Lucrecia had given her a sharp slap on the face the moment he opened his mouth to speak. For a while, he continued on letting out moans of disdain. He shakes his head at the woman beside him. "Princess Lu—"

He halts, seeing the young woman with shimmy eyes; she was delaying her tears, and for what reason? What triggered her to cry?

"So, where are you going to take me, Commodore? What's your name again?"

"Oliver," he emphasizes, curiosity obvious from his tone. "I've no idea, Princess. Where would you love to go?"

He wanted to ask why her eyes were glimmering with tears, but she might get angry at him. And it was never a trait of Oliver to meddle and poke with anyone's emotions, or asking silly, sensitive questions. He was thinking that hers might be too sensitive to even talk about. Almighty, he says at the back of his head. What am I supposed to say?

Still astounded by the young woman's manners, he doesn't say a word. He surveys her as she inhaled and exhaled repeatedly, flapping her fan in the quickest way possible. He badly wanted to ask her if she had difficulties with the king, but he thought it was too personal. The two just met and it would be inappropriate for him to do so. 

She suddenly walks away from Oliver, seeking cover from the sun's heat. "Have you no umbrella?"

"I've none of that," replied Oliver. "Would you like me to get one for you?"

"It takes minutes from here to the manor," she blinks several times, trying her best not to cry. "Walking will only tire you."

"I walk for miles, preparing for the navy. I can certainly go anywhere to get you an umbrella."

"No, I—don't go back there."

He couldn't refrain from asking this time. "...are you alright, Princess?"

"Lucrecia," she finally sniffs, a few tears running through her cheeks. "Or Marie."

"Pretty much everyone addresses you that," he says. "Lucrecia..."

She abruptly sits on the sophisticated bench on the side. Oliver remained silent as the princess shed tears. He takes the empty space beside her, his eyes gazing far away. Oliver then remembers that one of the royalties told him from months ago that the princess is somewhat a spoiled, badly-behaved woman. He nods to himself; indeed, she is! Who slaps people out of nowhere?

All of a sudden, Lucrecia wipes away her tears. "Look, Commodore, uh..."

"Oliver."

"Right, Commodore. Oliver."

"What is it?"

"I'm sorry. For slapping you..."

Thank God! He almost wanted to praise whoever deity there is. He thought she wouldn't apologize for slapping him out of nowhere, and Oliver is kind and understanding enough to forgive her. He just had to ask her why. 

"That is...pretty confusing, actually. I forgive you."

"I respect you, Lucrecia," he tells her. "But I ask of you to respect me as well."

Lucrecia doesn't spit a word. Her eyes just gazed far away, with deep thoughts. Oliver continues.

"As your...future spouse, perhaps," he looks down. If it wasn't for his father, he wouldn't have to deal with all this. He would've been the happiest man because he would've married Angelina.

Still, the woman remained silent, but she seems to be listening. "Do you want to go back—"

"No, no!" she tugs his sleeves, a panicked emotion on her face. "We can't go back there!"

He gently places his hands on her arms, with the hopes of comforting the woman. Oliver was too confused and bewildered at her sudden actions, "Lucrecia?"

"You ruined it!" she throws a fit, and the garden was massive enough that no one's going to hear any of her tantrums; only one, poor commodore. "Everything! I wouldn't have to deal with...this!"

"I wouldn't have to deal with this either!"

"You brought me back to this place! You brought me back to him!"

"I don't understand, Lucrecia."

"You, it's all you..." she falls to the grass, her tears running endlessly on her cheeks. It was magic that her make-up isn't ruined yet. 

Both of her palms were covering her face, her shoulders repeatedly moving up and down as she sobbed. "You ruined it!"

Now, what is a commodore supposed to do when there is a crying princess across him? Kneeling down beside the woman, he tries to capture her in an embrace—well, at least that's what he did to Angelina whenever she had tantrums. 

What was he supposed to know about women who act like children?

"Lucrecia, I didn't—" he halts his sentence midway when he catches a glimpse of a bruise on her lower arm; well it seemed like one, but he wasn't sure. He then sees another one on her upper limb. Why does she have these bruises? They looked too fresh that make-up didn't do a good job at hiding them.

But he brushes it off. "Come here, Lucrecia."

"No," he wipes away her tears. She sniffs a bit, "Take me back to my room. I would like to rest."

"Are you certain? Didn't you say you don't want to return to the manor?"

"Let us leave. Now, Commodore," she blankly says. "...please."

Using the back door, the commodore accompanies Lucrecia into her room. They were hiding from servants, for the princess didn't want anyone to see her back inside the royal manor. When they reached the front door of her room, she bids Oliver goodbye.

"Thank you," she curtsies. "I suppose you may now leave."

He bows. "Princess Lucrecia. I...hope you rest well. You need it."

"I certainly will, Commodore."

"Very well," he forces a smile. "I will now—"

"My precious flower!" the king suddenly appears from the stairs. "Commodore!"

Oliver swiftly turns to face the king, and was about to declare his farewell when he feels a hand clutching his sleeve. He notices Lucrecia holding tightly on his arm, the emotion in her face unreadable; her smile showed delight yet her eyes were of fear.

"His majesty, King Gaius. We meet again, Sire."

"Were you just leaving, Commodore?"

Oliver doesn't answer immediately. He feels Lucrecia holding on to him like her life depended on it. He makes up a response, "His majesty, yes. Lucrecia and I have planned to have dinner together."

"I see the both of you are already getting acquainted."

"His majesty, you have a lovely daughter."

"Ah, you're such a gentleman, Commodore! I never chose wrong!"

"He is, father," Lucrecia smiles. "He offered me his company for the rest of the evening."

"That is lovely," says the king. "But I'm afraid I'd have to steal the man away for a while."

"His majesty, what do you mean?"

"I am saying, lad," he clears his throat, eyeing Lucrecia. "I have an important mission for you...tonight, right away."

Lucrecia blinks repeatedly, forcing a slight chuckle. She somehow succeeds in pretending to be calm and poised, "But father, Commodore just got here."

"I know that, my precious flower," King Gaius shoots the princess a sad smile. "But Commodore has duties. Save all the dinners and the dates when you get married."

"His majesty, Sire," Oliver bows his head. "I vow to fulfill my duties if only you'll allow—"

"You leave to sail the British waters tonight, Commodore," the King declares. He slowly walks towards the couple, and his eyes glimmer in astonishment when he notices that Lucrecia was actually trying to get away from him using Oliver. 

At last, King Gaius declares to Oliver his newest duty, sending a quiver down his daughter's body. Anxiousness envelopes Lucrecia as the king rests his hand on Oliver's shoulder.

"Find Edward Montesino for me, Commodore," says Gaius, his eyes intense as he commanded Oliver.

"Relay that King Gaius commands his presence. Dead or alive."