Sally. The Blonde Princess. Shella. The Snake-Human Princess.
Sally was quiet, her posture guarded but composed. The delicate tilt of her head, the slow, soft movements of her hands—everything about her screamed cultivated fragility. She knew the art of appearing vulnerable.
But she was watching.
Observing everything. Listening to the rhythm of the ship. Gauging the crew, the way they moved, who barked orders and who obeyed. Beneath the polished mask of a porcelain doll lay a calculating mind.
She would not cry. She would not scream. Pity was a tool, but dignity was armor.
The other… was different.
Shella didn't tremble. She stood tall, even with her scaled tail coiled beneath her. She didn't pretend to be docile. Her golden eyes radiated disdain, even when surrounded by steel and sea.
She was no damsel.
Shella wasn't just exotic. She was proud. Even bound in chains, she looked down on the humans around her—these fragile, soft-skinned creatures who thought coin could buy everything.
Long ago, her people had been rulers beneath the sea. Betrayed by their merfolk cousins. Driven out. Hunted. But not broken.
She would not break either.
Two names, two rare bloodlines, now aboard a pirate ship cutting through the Grand Line.
Back aboard the ship, both girls stood near the mast— silent, tense.
Not an hour earlier, they had witnessed a scene from a nightmare. A pirate brig had attempted to ambush them, believing Whitebeard's lean crew an easy mark. Delusional fools.
Newgate didn't even board. He simply stepped to the edge of the deck, raised his naginata, and with a roar—split the pirate ship clean in two.
One swing. Clean. Absolute. Bodies, planks, and cannonballs spilled into the sea.
That wasn't violence. That was dominance.
The girls had been released from their shackles immediately afterward, but the gesture hadn't brought relief. It made everything worse.
Because now, they weren't bound. They were expected to choose their fate.
Argus stood nearby, watching them with his arms crossed.
"If that fear turns to panic, it'll end badly," he muttered.
Newgate chuckled lowly. "Gurararara~! You worried they'll bite?"
"I don't sleep beside snakes unless I've filed their fangs."
Just then—
"Husband. Big Brother."
Serena stepped onto the deck, composed and graceful, her presence like still water over jagged rock. Her silk robe fluttered gently in the wind.
She bowed her head with poise. "Let me speak to my new little sisters."
Argus didn't hesitate. "They're yours."
She smiled, calm and royal, and led the two stunned girls toward the ship's private cabins.
---
BELOW DECK
The cabins weren't lavish, but they were clean, private, and safe. Serena made sure of it.
She laid fresh linens. Drew a warm bath. Left silks and modest jewelry where they could see. Comfort, not submission.
Then she sat with them.
Not as a rival. Not as a queen.
But as the first among equals.
"I won't lie to you," she said gently. "We're all here because fate bent our lives around a stronger man. But that doesn't make us slaves. It makes us survivors."
Sally sat straight-backed, trying to appear delicate—her voice soft, unsure. A practiced nobility.
She was playing weak.
If I look too proud, they'll break me faster, she thought. But if I act fragile... perhaps I'll earn pity. Perhaps I'll slip a dagger in someone's ribs later.
Shella, in contrast, crossed her arms. She remained upright, her serpentine eyes flicking around like a predator.
I'm no lamb, her thoughts hissed. If they think I'll bow, they'll bleed. I survived worse than pirates. I won't die in a harem.
Serena caught both expressions—and smiled.
Good. They're smart. Smart women bend but don't break. Those are the ones who survive.
"You may not believe it now," she said, brushing Sally's hair gently, "but your value didn't end when your kingdoms fell. With Argus, it's not your bloodline or beauty that will matter most—it's your will."
---
UP ON DECK
Argus and Newgate stood at the railing, reviewing their current finances.
"Still got enough to keep us moving?" Argus asked.
Newgate grinned. "We're pirates, brother. If money dries up, we just find a fat kingdom and squeeze."
He wasn't joking.
The Grand Line was dotted with soft, bloated nations hoarding gold. And Whitebeard's crew—small but sharp—could gut them like fish.
Argus pulled out the weathered treasure map.
"Still think this is real," he muttered.
Newgate snorted. "Gurararara~! You and that gut of yours."
"It's not a gut feeling. It's a bet. If I'm wrong, we burn it. If I'm right, we grab history by the throat."
---
LATER THAT EVENING
Below deck, Serena lounged in her quarters, her robe loosened, her smile satisfied.
Shella had snarled, Sally had wept—but now they both rested in private rooms, fed, washed, clothed.
She'd won.
Manipulation wasn't deception. It was direction. A nudge here, a whisper there. Neither girl trusted her yet—but they'd follow her. And that was enough.
"Queen of the harem," Serena whispered to herself with a sly smile. "And I didn't even raise my voice."
Later that day…
Hiroshi and Domas returned from a scouting mission, battered but proud.
"We hit three ships and a port town in the last week," Domas reported. "No civilians hurt. Only armed guards and rebels. Loot's secured."
"We even gave the kids a choice," Hiroshi added. "Some joined us. Others were left with enough food to survive."
Newgate clapped them both on the back. "Good men."
Then Serena entered the deck.
Both men straightened, offering subtle bows.
"Lady Serena," Hiroshi said, voice respectful.
"Thank you for keeping things steady while we were gone," Domas added.
She offered a polite nod, her expression calm.
"Lady Serena," Doma said with genuine respect. "We heard what you did with the new concubines."
Hiroshi added, "They're calm now. ."
Serena gave a slight, approving nod.
They weren't just loyal. They respected strength, wherever it appeared.
"Good," she said. "Now keep them from getting ideas. They'll be family soon—but family doesn't mean soft."
"Yes, Lady Serena."
---
DAWN
The breeze rolled in from the east, soft and golden. Argus sat at his desk, sipping broth Serena had brought personally.
She didn't brag. She didn't fuss. She simply served and let the taste speak for itself.
Argus raised an eyebrow. "You made this?"
She nodded once. "Don't underestimate your woman."
He smiled faintly. Not the smirk of a pirate—but the grin of a man whose empire was beginning to take shape.
Sally and Shella would fall into line—not because they were forced, but because Serena would make them want to.
And with their bloodlines, their talents, and Serena's steady hand, the harem was becoming more than indulgence.
It was a foundation.
A future.
---
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