Previously
While the third-class passengers chat about high society and Noah Tudor, their ship is violently boarded and seized by pirates. The raiders round up the women on deck to demand family names for ransoms, intending to sell anyone unclaimed into slavery.
“Quite the beauty, aren't you? Giving us our money's worth.”
Perhaps failing to control her expression had provoked these dreadful men's interest. Assuming it was safe to touch her since she lacked even a family name, the men pressed closer, making her stomach heave. Covering her nose and mouth, Cordelia shrank back step by step.
Her heart thumped erratically. Her eyes briefly crossed paths with the people from her cabin, but they turned their heads away. It was hardly surprising.
Her back hit a rigid exterior wall. Right behind her lay the sea. A sea spitting white, pearl-like foam across its deep blue surface, resembling the azure hair of a mermaid. The crisp scent of salt water stung her nose.
In an instant, an overwhelming impulse surged within her.
Should she just jump?
At this moment, that seemed like the only end that would spare her misery.
“Stop right there!”
A sharp, resolute voice cut through the air.
An aristocratic young lady stood up, brushing off the attempts of those around her to hold her back. With clean blonde hair, fair skin, a dainty bridge to her nose, and an elegant, aloof expression, she resembled a white peacock. As the most striking beauty among the finely dressed women, her sheer confidence stood out all the more. Her eyes wide and steady, she glared directly at the pirates.
“You haven't received your ransoms yet. Do not act rashly.”
“Stay out of this, my precious lady. Are you planning to pay the ransom for this miserable wench, too?”
When the pirates snorted in dismissal, she retorted coolly.
“Very well. If necessary, I shall cover her price. So do not lay a finger on her.”
Taken aback by such resolve, even the pirates exchanged looks before asking in annoyance,
“And just who are you?”
“My name is Shasha Ander. My father is Lord Morpheus, Grand Duke of Arsène. My father will pay the ransoms for every single person gathered here. So cease your insolence at once.”
Astonishment rippled through the crowd at Shasha Ander's noble tone. Part of it was admiration for her boldness and dignity, but part of it was pure shock that a celebrated society flower was held hostage alongside them, not to mention the revelation of her lineage. Her peerless beauty and poise had certainly marked her as exceptional, but to think this woman was the famous Shasha Ander!
Recognizing her name, the pirates gasped in wonder before rejoicing among themselves at having hooked an even bigger prize than anticipated. One of them grinned mockingly.
“Well, well, quite the precious jewel, aren't you? Fine by us, just make sure you pay up in full.”
“You would do well to show proper respect to your clients first.”
Stepping forward with sharp, clicking heels to stand in front of Cordelia, she spoke with unyielding firmness. With that single sentence from Shasha, they had been elevated from slaves and hostages to clients.
“Now then, I would like to rest. Show these ladies to our quarters.”
The men shrugged and stepped aside. Still dazed, Cordelia linked arms with Shasha and walked proudly past the pirates. It was a bizarre, astonishing experience.
Blankly, she gazed at the beautiful woman at her side. What struck Cordelia in that moment wasn't Shasha's bravery, her brilliant wit, or her wealthy father who could casually part with a fortune.
‘So this is how brightly someone shines when they're raised with boundless love.’
And Cordelia felt a wave of sorrow that such a thought was the very first thing to enter her mind before her savior.
Her own father was so shameful and detestable that she refused to utter her family name even on the verge of being sold into slavery, yet someone else's father served as an impenetrable shield by his name alone. Shasha was likely able to carry herself with such confidence because she knew her father had the power to protect her and would willingly move heaven and earth for his daughter.
What must it feel like to receive such absolute protection?
“Are you all right?”
Brought to her senses by the concerned voice, Cordelia hastily gathered her skirts and offered a polite greeting.
“Thank you. Thanks to you, I was spared a terrible fate.”
“Not at all. How could I sit back and watch another woman endure such humiliation in that situation?”
Shasha bit her lip in lingering frustration. The faint, sweet scent of rose oil drifted from the edge of her sleeve as she patted the back of Cordelia's hand. Even though the ship had been seized by pirates and everyone was steeped in terror and dread, looking at her alone made the space feel like a corridor in an imperial palace.
Of course, some might scoff that she was simply flaunting her rich father's influence, but Cordelia believed no one could dismiss the courage it took for a woman to boldly confront criminals guilty of murder and rape. To risk danger for someone she had never met before. Could Cordelia have ever done the same? Cordelia watched Shasha reassure the others, telling them the captain had sent a distress call to the Admiralty right before the attack and that they only needed to hold out for a few days.
She truly was a wonderful woman.
“Where do your origins lie, my lady? Are you perhaps traveling to make your debut this social season?”
“Pardon? Ah, no. I am not of such standing.”
When Cordelia shook her head in flustered embarrassment at the polite inquiry, Shasha looked even more bewildered.
“Pardon my presumption. Seeing your ingrained etiquette, straight posture, and accent, I naturally assumed you were a young lady preparing for her debut in high society.”
“What? Me?”
Shasha widened her eyes as though unable to understand Cordelia's complete confusion.
“You offered me a courtly greeting just a moment ago, didn't you? One cannot observe courtesy so effortlessly without any connection to high society. Though you have a slight provincial inflection, your vocabulary belongs to the Katysha elite. I do not know which noble figure she was, but your chaperone must have tutored you with great care.”
“Ah.”
Cordelia knew nothing of such things. She only remembered her mother, whose smiling face had grown so faint in her memory. Everything Cordelia saw, heard, wrote, and thought had stemmed from her mother. Her sickly mother used to sing lullabies every night, whispering into her young daughter's ear.
“My pearl of the sea, Cordelia. You are another me.”
‘You are a part of my very soul. A child destined for the brilliant future I never achieved.’
Tears welled in her eyes.
Dabbing at her tears, Cordelia gave the surprised Shasha an awkward smile.
“Yes… It was my mother.”
‘Mother, it seems I have taken after you far more than I ever realized.’
‘Even your pain and your sorrow.’
***
The captured passengers numbered in the hundreds, separated and quarantined across four distinct areas. The crew and first-class passengers occupied the third deck; the servants, engineers, and second-class passengers were held below them; while the remaining third-class passengers were reportedly kept down below, forbidden from coming up.
Thanks to the quick wit of Shasha Ander, who had negotiated with the pirates, the women aboard were gathered in the luxurious first-class staterooms and the spacious banquet hall for room and board. It was meant to prevent any tragic accidents that might occur in the chaos if they remained scattered. Cordelia believed it to be the right decision. Nowhere was more horrifying for a woman than a place where law and order had vanished.
By good fortune, Cordelia was able to share a room with Shasha through her goodwill. Madame McKenzie and Miss Blankie, who had been standing in a corner like refugees, sheepishly approached to check on her and apologize for turning away earlier.
Cordelia gave a faint smile and nodded. What could they have done in that situation, powerless as they were? Being just as powerless herself, she harbored no desire to blame them for doing what was needed to survive.
“It will be difficult, but please hold on just a little longer. Word is bound to reach us soon.”
Shasha spoke with firm conviction, and everyone nodded with anxious faces. A faint glimmer of hope was emerging. There were nobles of considerably high standing aboard this liner, and naturally, their families and the imperial army would never abandon them. Behind Shasha Ander, the most prominent figure among them, stood one of the empire's ducal houses. It was common knowledge that the Duke of Arsène treasured his youngest daughter, born to a commoner mistress, more dearly than his own life.
Cordelia also tried her best to think positively amidst the anxiety, and for once, she seemed to succeed. It appeared that staying beside someone as bright and steadfast as Shasha naturally rubbed off on those around her.
On the night of their third day in captivity, Cordelia drifted into fitful sleep before jolting awake to a faint groaning sound. Shasha was drenched in a cold sweat.
“M-Miss Shasha. What is the matter? Are you unwell?”
“Ah. Well…”