Captain – Chapter 125 – He’s Fallen For Me

“Another bottle, Sarah, Sarah!”

Empty bottles were scattered all over the table, each one engraved with the word “rum,” clearly the cheap yet potent Black Rum.

Among pirates who lived daily with plundering and death, few couldn’t hold their liquor. But even the best drinker from both sides of the ocean would likely be dizzy and unconscious when faced with an entire table of Black Rum.

So naturally, Roy, who was sprawled among the bottles on the table, was drunk too. Yet in her subconscious, she believed she was still clearheaded, and was now tapping the table with a bottle containing only a thumb’s width of liquor, calling for the head maid who was specially serving her drinks.

After shouting several times with no more alcohol arriving, the captain held her dizzy head and sat up, wanting to see what was delaying Sarah.

But when the young woman turned to look, what first caught her eye wasn’t the crowded hall, nor the head maid approaching with swaying hips and abundant charm, but a vibrant shade of red.

Red like a bullfighter’s muleta.

Roy thought absently, then watched as that “muleta” gradually approached. Following a dull thud, a full bottle of Black Rum was placed in the only vacant spot on the round wooden table.

“Oh, thanks, miss.”

Roy reached for the bottle unsteadily, quickly grabbing the neck, then pulling gently.

The bottle didn’t move because another hand was pressing on its mouth, preventing the captain from continuing to immerse herself in this inferior alcohol that was hardly different from sugar water.

“Um, may I ask… is there something wrong?”

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Seeing this, Roy’s unfocused eyes slightly concentrated. She raised her head with a smile—for her current state, any request would be acceptable as long as she could drink.

But when she clearly saw that cold face, the smile at the corners of her mouth stiffened slightly, and she obediently released the bottle, slumping back against the chair: “Li… little Ceci, what’s wrong?”

“The moment I lost sight of you, you got all this alcohol from Sister Sarah. What’s this about? If I hadn’t discovered you all night, were you planning to drink until dawn?”

Cecilia pulled up a chair from the side and sat down, asking expressionlessly.

Looking out the window, although the shops on Horn of Plenty still had their lights on, the thick night sky still made it impossible to tell the time.

“What’s the big deal? Just having a drink, it’s nothing, darling.”

Roy withdrew her gaze, smiling as she spoke. Her originally fair face was still flushed crimson, and as she spoke, she occasionally stole glances at the bottle Cecilia was holding.

“Drink, drink, drink. It’s always been like this—drinking desperately at night, then sleeping so soundly in the morning that even ringing an alarm bell by your ear wouldn’t wake you up.”

Cecilia grumbled impatiently, then thrust the Black Rum into the captain’s arms: “Last bottle. Finish it and get back to sleep. These aren’t the peaceful days of the past—who knows when we’ll have to fight.”

“I knew you were the best, little Ceci.”

Roy opened the wooden cork, sniffing the strong alcohol scent, her eyes narrowing in ecstasy.

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“All night long, what have you been thinking about? Don’t tell me it’s about the Mermaid.”

The proprietress gazed at those somewhat hazy dark golden pupils, asking with slightly furrowed brows.

Someone like Roy, once she had decided on a plan, wouldn’t fret or worry about it anymore, even if that plan was just an empty shell with the words “adapt to circumstances” written on it.

Whatever could make her willingly indulge in alcohol, feeling troubled and subconsciously wanting to escape, was basically always an intricate and troublesome emotional issue.

Just like that night two years ago, after which Roy drank for three whole days in the tavern, lamenting with a worried face while considering how to handle her relationship with Cecilia.

In her words, a pirate captain absolutely should not have such superfluous emotions.

Hearing the proprietress’s question, the captain paused as she was about to raise the bottle to drink. She then put the bottle down and looked at her: “Oh my God, how could I have forgotten about you? Besides being my strategic consulting advisor, you’re also my one and only emotional advisor, little Ceci.”

“If you hadn’t given me that punch two years ago, perhaps we would have…”

Seeing the proprietress’s increasingly cold expression, Roy pressed her hand: “Alright, alright, I wasn’t being very decent back then. Don’t… don’t clench your fist.”

Hearing this, Cecilia sighed softly and released the fist she had been gripping under the table.

The title of emotional advisor wasn’t one she wanted; it was bestowed upon her amidst the jeering laughter of the Mermaid’s crew.

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It was because after Roy had been drinking for three days, she planned to announce to everyone in the tavern that she was severing her relationship with Cecilia, only to receive a hard punch to the face from her.

Of course, that punch successfully changed the captain’s mind.

“Tell me.”

Snatching the bottle from the captain’s hand, taking a swig, and then coughing violently, the proprietress asked with a flushed face.

“Hey, hey, hey, that’s… my drink.”

Roy’s attention clearly wasn’t on the ice beauty in front of her; she only regretted that tonight’s last bottle of Black Rum was one sip less, or possibly even more.

“I’ll get you another bottle later. Don’t be so fussy.” The proprietress had no intention of returning the bottle and urged her impatiently.

“Sigh, alright.”

The captain sighed and said: “Seeing Old John this morning reminded me of some very uncomfortable things.”

“That old fellow—not mentioning his suddenly appearing daughter and his secret dealings with you—even assuming he was forced by Richi and had no choice but to work for him, which I could overlook, but how could he…”

Roy paused, the frivolity gradually disappearing from her face, replaced by extreme coldness. It was a sign of her forcibly suppressing her anger: “How could he, after my appearance, still act as if nothing had happened, foolishly thinking he could slip away with his precious daughter, far from trouble?”

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“Has this old bastard forgotten who pulled him out of prison? And who gave him his current status and wealth?”

After speaking, the captain fell silent for a moment, then pushed all the empty bottles on the table away in one sweep, letting them crash to the floor, shattering into pieces.

“Richi is the same, and those who follow him, a shipful of bastards.”

Cecilia wasn’t disturbed by this scene; she simply reached out and touched Roy’s cheek with her fingertips: “Won’t it all be over soon, my captain?”

Anger or coldness—these emotions rarely appeared on Roy.

The proprietress knew that these surface problems weren’t really the crux of the matter, but merely the triggers that annoyed the captain.

So she waited quietly, waited for the young woman to calm down, waited for her to reveal her true concern.

“Yes, just a few more days, a few more days…”

Feeling the cool touch on her cheek, the irritation in Roy’s heart gradually subsided. She gazed tenderly at the proprietress’s amber eyes, and a smile finally returned to her face. However, this smile contained neither the composure of the past nor the coldness of before.

There was only a hint… of faint resignation.

“Little Ceci, damn it, he’s fallen for me, just like I fell for you back then.”