Chapter 710

The chamber assigned to Princess Shirahoshi within the royal palace of Dressrosa was less a room and more a private world unto itself. Calling it a room would have been a gross understatement. The chamber alone was nearly the size of a grand theater.

Its soaring ceilings disappeared into intricate frescoes depicting the oceans of the world, while massive marble pillars lined the perimeter, each carved with scenes of merfolk, sea kings, and ancient maritime legends. Golden chandeliers hung overhead, their warm light reflected across polished floors of white and blue marble that resembled waves frozen in motion.

Yet the true centerpiece of the chamber was impossible to ignore. Nearly half of the enormous space had been completely redesigned. A massive panoramic aquarium stretched from floor to ceiling across an entire wall of the room.

The crystal-clear glass alone was several feet thick, reinforced using the finest materials available in Dressrosa. Beyond it lay an underwater paradise painstakingly recreated from countless seas across the world. Schools of brilliantly colored tropical fish darted between coral formations imported from distant islands.

Massive rays glided gracefully through deeper sections. Exotic creatures from the Grand Line swam alongside species native to Fish-Man Island. Even rare fish from the North Blue, West Blue, and South Blue could be found among the living exhibit.

The entire aquarium felt less like a decoration and more like a fragment of the ocean itself that had somehow been brought into the palace. Against the enormous glass, tiny fists repeatedly struck the surface.

Tap...Tap...Tap...Tap.

Tiny by giant standards, at least. A young mermaid with flowing pink hair pressed herself eagerly against the glass, her eyes sparkling with delight as fish darted past her. Barely more than a year old. And yet already enormous.

Princess Shirahoshi had grown at an astonishing rate. Her size now exceeded that of many fully grown merfolk. Each passing month seemed to bring another dramatic growth spurt, leaving servants constantly scrambling to adjust furniture, clothing, and accommodations.

Watching her excitedly chase fish through the aquarium, Neptune couldn’t stop the small chuckle that escaped him. A bittersweet one. His gaze softened. When he closed his eyes, he could still remember the day she was born. A tiny bundle wrapped in blankets. Small enough to carry effortlessly in one arm. Fragile. Precious.

Now...he looked at her again. Already she dwarfed most adults. And if her growth continued at this pace, she might one day surpass even his own colossal stature. The thought filled him with pride. And pain. Because he had missed it all. The first words. The first smiles. The first steps of growth. More than an entire year of his daughter’s life had passed without him there.

His hands tightened slightly around the armrests of his chair. He was grateful. Truly grateful. The Donquixote family had saved what remained of his people. Had sheltered his children. Had protected them when Fish-Man Island fell into chaos. Without them, Shirahoshi would almost certainly be dead.

Without them, Fukaboshi likely would have perished as well. Without them, perhaps the entire surviving remnant of the Fish-Man race would have disappeared. Neptune knew all of this. His mind understood. His logic accepted it.

Yet...his heart refused. Because no matter how justified it was. No matter how necessary. No matter how much he owed them. A father could never truly accept another man raising his daughter. Especially not a daughter he still loved with every fiber of his being.

"Arnold..." Neptune finally spoke. His voice carried hesitation. Across the room sat Arnold, one of his oldest friends and one of the few surviving fish-men who had become a core member of the Donquixote Family. Years had changed the man considerably. The Arnold sitting before him now was very different from the fish-man Neptune once knew. Loyal. Steadfast. And utterly devoted to the family that had saved their people. Neptune opened his mouth.

"Do you think—"

"You shouldn’t ask." The interruption came instantly. Arnold didn’t even look up. His tone was calm. Yet absolute. Neptune froze. The fish-man finally lifted his gaze. "And you know exactly why." A heavy silence settled over the chamber. Arnold sighed. "Don’t ask me for something you already know I would refuse."

His expression hardened. "Neptune." The use of his name instead of a royal title carried considerable weight. "I know what you’re about to ask." Neptune lowered his eyes. Because he did know. He wanted Arnold to mediate. To speak with Doflamingo. To plead on his behalf.

To convince the Donquixote Family to allow Shirahoshi to return with him. To let him have his daughter back. Arnold shook his head.

"I may be a fish-man." His voice grew quieter. "But I repaid my debt to our people long ago." The old friendship between them was evident. So was the strain. "I have already given everything I could to our race and more." His eyes sharpened. "But now, my loyalty now belongs elsewhere."

Neptune looked away. The answer hurt. Even though he had expected it. Arnold leaned forward slightly. "Do not force me into a position where I have to choose between old friendships and the family that gave us a future."

The words struck harder than Neptune expected. Because he knew Arnold was right. The Donquixote family had become Shirahoshi’s family. That was the reality he struggled to accept. His eyes slowly shifted elsewhere. Toward the young mermaid sitting beside Shirahoshi.

Perhaps...perhaps she would understand. Perhaps she would listen. "Shyarly..." The name barely left his lips. The young mermaid didn’t even turn around. Instead, she pointed toward a colorful fish swimming through the aquarium. "That’s a butterfly fish."

Shirahoshi’s eyes widened. "Fish!"

"Yes." Shyarly smiled warmly. "And that one over there is a clownfish."

"Fish!"

"Correct," Shyarly added.

Shirahoshi giggled happily. The young mermaid patiently continued naming species one by one while teaching the princess how to recognize them. Occasionally she even encouraged Shirahoshi to reach out with her innate gift and communicate with the creatures. The infant princess responded enthusiastically every time. Completely oblivious to the heavy conversation occurring behind her.

Neptune watched the interaction silently. His chest tightened. Because once again he saw the same thing. Comfort. Trust. Affection. Not forced. Not taught. Natural. Shirahoshi genuinely loved the people around her. The Donquixote Family wasn’t simply her guardian. It was her home.

Fukaboshi stood nearby watching his sister with quiet vigilance. Just as he always did. The young prince had barely left Shirahoshi’s side since the tragedy that destroyed their world.

Years ago, on the darkest day of Neptune’s life, his family had shattered. His wife had died.

His kingdom had fallen. His children had been scattered.

Yet among the chaos, Fukaboshi had never abandoned his promise. The promise he made to his dying mother, Queen Otohime. To protect Shirahoshi. No matter the cost. Neptune still remembered hearing what had happened. How the young prince had thrown himself into danger. How he had willingly wagered his own life to buy precious seconds.

Seconds that ultimately allowed Shirahoshi to survive. Seconds that changed everything. While Neptune had failed. His son had succeeded. That realization still haunted him. Watching Fukaboshi stand guard over Shirahoshi now, Neptune felt both pride and shame.

Pride in the son who had become so dependable. Shame in the father who had not been there. His gaze returned to his daughter. Shirahoshi laughed as dozens of colorful fish gathered around the glass before her. The room filled with innocent joy. Yet Neptune’s heart only grew heavier.

Because the harder he looked, the more he realized the truth. His daughter was happy here. And that truth made his struggle all the more painful. For while he desperately wanted his children back...he could no longer tell where their future truly belonged.

Since arriving in Dressrosa, Fukaboshi had scarcely spoken more than a handful of words to his father. The distance between them wasn’t measured in meters. It was measured in years. Years of grief. Years of guilt. Years of unresolved bitterness.

Neptune noticed it every time they occupied the same room. The way his eldest son avoided his gaze. The way conversations died the moment he entered. The way Fukaboshi always remained close to Shirahoshi yet never once approached him willingly.

It hurt. Far more than any wound Neptune had suffered in battle. Because he understood why. Fukaboshi did not truly hate him. If anything, that was what made it worse. Hatred could be fought. Hatred could be challenged. But disappointment? Disappointment lingered. And Neptune saw it every time his son looked at him. The former king knew his son understood the truth.

Fukaboshi knew Neptune had fought for them. Knew he had risked his life countless times. Knew he had desperately tried to hold their kingdom together as it crumbled around them. Yet despite all that...the bitterness remained. Because there was one truth neither of them could escape.

Queen Otohime was dead. And some part of Fukaboshi would always wonder if it could have been prevented. Neptune had known. He had known the dangers of Otohime’s ideals. Known the hatred festering beneath the surface of Fish-Man Island. Known there were those who would rather see the kingdom burn than embrace coexistence.

Yet despite understanding the risks...he had supported her. Believed in her. Stood beside her. And in the end, she had died. Every time Fukaboshi closed his eyes, he could still see it. His mother’s body. Collapsed upon the wooden deck. A spreading pool of blood beneath her.

The panic. The screams. The helplessness. And the terrible realization that she had been murdered by one of their own people. If only someone had stopped her. If only someone had forced her to see reason. If only someone had protected her from herself.

Perhaps she would still be alive. Perhaps their family would still be whole. Perhaps none of this would have happened. Those thoughts had haunted Fukaboshi for years. And unfortunately for Neptune, he occupied the center of every single one. The room remained quiet as Shirahoshi continued pressing her tiny hands against the aquarium glass.

Then suddenly, Fukaboshi spoke. "Father...you know as well as I do..." His deep voice cut through the room. Neptune visibly stiffened. Because it had been so long since his son had voluntarily addressed him. "...that you cannot protect Shirahoshi."

The words landed like a hammer. The room immediately fell silent. Even Arnold glanced over. Neptune slowly turned toward his eldest son. Fukaboshi stood motionless near the aquarium. His gaze remained fixed on Shirahoshi. Not his father. Never his father.

"So why are you so determined to take her away..." His voice hardened. "...only to place her back in harm’s way?" Neptune froze. The question struck deeper than he wanted to admit. Because he didn’t have an answer. Not one that would satisfy Fukaboshi. Not one that would satisfy himself.

For a few moments, only the sounds of the aquarium filled the room. Then Fukaboshi spoke again. This time his words carried an edge that made Neptune’s blood run cold.

"Or..." The prince finally turned. Their eyes met. "...do you truly believe that because Whitebeard agreed to help you..." Neptune’s pupils contracted. "...he can protect Shirahoshi every second of every day?"

Silence. Absolute silence. Neptune’s heart skipped a beat. His face paled. Because that was impossible. No one should have known. His plea to Whitebeard had been private. The true purpose behind the Emperor’s visit to Dressrosa had never been publicly disclosed. Only a handful of individuals should have possessed that information.

Yet Fukaboshi knew. Not guessed. Knew. And if Fukaboshi knew, then the Donquixote Family already knew as well. The realization hit Neptune like a tidal wave. Everything suddenly made sense. Why hadn’t Doflamingot granted him a private audience to hear him out? Maybe it was because he already knew that Neptune had never really thought that mere dialogue would provide a solution to this matter.

They had known from the beginning. His attempt had never been subtle. The Donquixote Family had simply allowed him to proceed while watching quietly from the sidelines. A chill crawled down Neptune’s spine. Fukaboshi saw the realization dawn on his father’s face. His expression remained unchanged.

"You still don’t understand." The prince’s voice carried years of frustration. "You’re still acting as though Shirahoshi is something that can simply be taken back."

Neptune opened his mouth. But no words came. Because deep down... Fukaboshi was right. Before he could respond, another voice interrupted.

"Fukaboshi...!" The young prince immediately fell silent. Not because of authority. But because of respect. Across the room, Shyarly finally rose from beside Shirahoshi. The young mermaid gently brushed a strand of hair behind her ear before turning away from the aquarium. Her expression remained calm. Composed. Yet there was a sharpness in her eyes that hadn’t been present moments earlier.

"That’s enough." The room grew noticeably quieter. Even Arnold straightened slightly. Because the person speaking now wasn’t merely a young mermaid. Nor was she simply another survivor from Fish-Man Island. The young woman standing there was one of the Donquixote Family’s core members. Even among them she was special.

Someone whose words carried weight. Shyarly slowly turned toward Neptune. For the first time since the conversation began, her full attention settled upon him.

"Tell me something, King Neptune." Her tone remained polite. Dangerously polite. The kind of politeness that usually preceded unpleasant truths. Neptune felt his throat tighten.

Shyarly continued. "Do you truly believe we are naive?" The question wasn’t hostile. Which somehow made it worse. "Did you genuinely think we wouldn’t understand your intentions?" Each word landed with surgical precision. "Or have we become so accommodating toward the surviving Fish-Men..." A faint disappointment entered her voice. "...that you believed attempting something like this was acceptable?"

Neptune visibly flinched. Because beneath the calm words lay an accusation. Not of betrayal.

But of disrespect. The Donquixote family had given sanctuary to his people. Protected his children. Provided resources. Offered security. And despite all of that, he had arrived in Dressrosa with Whitebeard hoping to reclaim Shirahoshi.

Without consulting them. Without trust. Without honesty. Shyarly’s gaze remained unwavering. "Shirahoshi is not a political asset." Her voice softened slightly. Nor was she a bargaining chip. She was a child. A child who had spent most of her life within these walls. A child who viewed this palace as home. A child who called members of the Donquixote Family her family.

The disappointment in Shyarly’s eyes only deepened. For a few moments she simply stared at Neptune. Not with anger. Not even with hostility. But with the weary frustration one reserved for someone who continued making the same mistake despite being given every opportunity to learn from it.

Nearby, Shirahoshi remained blissfully unaware of the tension consuming the room. The young princess pressed her hands against the aquarium glass, giggling happily as a school of brightly colored fish darted past her. Her innocent laughter only made the atmosphere heavier. Because everyone present understood the truth.

The argument unfolding behind her was about her future. And yet she was far too young to comprehend any of it. Shyarly slowly folded her arms.

"You’re fortunate." Her voice remained calm. Far calmer than Neptune felt he deserved. "Very fortunate." The former king lowered his gaze. Something in her tone immediately told him what was coming. Across the room, Fukaboshi remained silent. His fists were clenched tightly at his sides.

The young prince had been holding back for most of the conversation. Holding back his frustration. Holding back his disappointment. Holding back all of the accumulated resentment and yet could never truly condemn his own father.

Shyarly’s eyes never left Neptune. "You’re lucky your son pleaded on your behalf with Master Doffy." The words landed heavily. Neptune visibly stiffened. Fukaboshi’s jaw tightened. Because everyone knew it was true.

If not for Fukaboshi, this conversation would have unfolded very differently. The Donquixote family had tolerated much over the years. They had sheltered the surviving Fish-Men. Protected them. Fed them. Given them homes. Given them purpose. Given them a future.

And yet Neptune had arrived in Dressrosa with one of the Four Emperors intending to pressure them into relinquishing Shirahoshi. Whether he intended harm or not was irrelevant. The implication itself was enough.

"Trying to deceive us with schemes like this..." Shyarly’s voice hardened slightly. "...always carries consequences, King Neptune." The title sounded unusually formal coming from her. A deliberate reminder. At this moment she wasn’t speaking as a fellow mermaid. Nor as someone who once shared Fish-Man Island as a homeland.

She was speaking as a representative of the Donquixote Family. And the distinction mattered. A great deal. "But Master Doffy has chosen to overlook it." Her gaze briefly shifted toward Fukaboshi. "One last time." The room fell silent. "For Fukaboshi’s sake."

The prince looked away. His expression darkened. Because he knew exactly how much weight that statement carried. Fukaboshi had spent more than a year earning the trust of the family.

Years proving his loyalty. Years standing beside Shirahoshi. Years proving that his place here was genuine.

Had anyone else attempted what Neptune had done—the outcome likely would have been far less forgiving. Doflamingo wasn’t known for his patience. Nor his mercy. The fact that Neptune was still sitting here at all spoke volumes. Shyarly sighed softly.

"Master Doffy understands a father’s desperation." There was no mockery in her words. No cruelty. Only fact. "He understands why you came." Neptune slowly closed his eyes. Because that almost made it worse. The Donquixote family hadn’t failed to understand him. They hadn’t dismissed his feelings. They hadn’t mocked his grief. They simply disagreed. And that was far harder to argue against.

Shyarly continued. "And if you believe Whitebeard can help you in this matter..." A faint shake of her head followed. "Then you’re being naive."

The statement immediately caused tension to ripple through the room. Even Arnold glanced toward her. Because dismissing Whitebeard so casually was not something most people would dare. Yet Shyarly spoke without hesitation. Not because she underestimated Whitebeard. Far from it. Everyone understood exactly how terrifying the old Emperor of the seas was.

That was precisely why she felt comfortable saying it. Because this was not a question of strength. But the faith they had in Rosinanate. And there were certain things even Whitebeard could not force.

"If your intentions had truly been sincere..." Her gaze sharpened. "...you should have walked through the front door." Neptune flinched. Every word struck precisely where it hurt most. "You should have spoken honestly."

"Man to man." Her voice remained composed. Yet disappointment lingered beneath every syllable. "Instead, you resorted to schemes. To bring Whitebeard. To leverage old friendships. To applying pressure where trust should have existed." Shyarly looked genuinely saddened. Not angry. Not outraged. Simply disappointed.

And somehow that hurt far more. After everything. After all the years. After everything the Donquixote family had done for the fish-man race, Neptune still hadn’t fully trusted them. Still believed he needed leverage. Still believed he needed Whitebeard.

Even she, as a fellow mermaid, had begun running out of patience. The silence stretched.

Only broken by Shirahoshi’s cheerful laughter nearby. Then Shyarly spoke once more. This time her voice softened. Not out of kindness. But because what she was about to say didn’t need harshness to carry weight.

"You should make the most of this visit." Neptune slowly looked up. The young mermaid met his gaze directly. "I assure you..." For the first time all conversation stopped. Even Fukaboshi looked toward her. "...this may very well be the last opportunity you’ll have to see Shirahoshi for a very long time."

The words hit like a physical blow. Neptune’s breathing stopped. For a moment he couldn’t even process them. The room suddenly felt smaller. Colder. Far more distant. Because he understood exactly what she meant.

****

Far removed from the tension surrounding Shirahoshi’s chamber, deep within the royal palace of Dressrosa, another silence lingered. One far more dangerous.

The study of the King of Dressrosa occupied an entire wing of the palace’s upper levels. Vast floor-to-ceiling windows opened onto a sweeping balcony overlooking the sea, allowing the golden afternoon sunlight to pour across polished marble floors and shelves lined with countless books, reports, and maps gathered from every corner of the world.

Yet despite the luxury surrounding him, the room felt unusually cold. At the edge of the balcony sat Donquixote Doflamingo. His posture appeared relaxed. One leg crossed over the other. One arm resting casually against the chair. From a distance, he looked perfectly at ease. Anyone unfamiliar with him might have mistaken him for a man enjoying the view. They would have been catastrophically wrong.

Because those who truly knew Doflamingo understood something important. The calmer he appeared... the angrier he usually was. And right now, he was furious. His gaze remained fixed upon the distant horizon. Beyond the sparkling waters of Dressrosa. Beyond the reefs and shipping lanes. Toward Green Bit.

A porcelain cup rested upon the small table beside him...untouched. The tea within had long since gone cold. A fact noticed immediately by the man standing nearby. Without needing to be asked, Senor stepped forward. He picked up the neglected cup and replaced it with a fresh one.

Steam curled lazily from the surface of the newly poured tea.

The gesture was practiced. Natural. The kind born from years of friendship. Among all the people in the Donquixote Family, few understood Doflamingo better than Senor. Few had stood beside him longer. And because of that, Senor immediately recognized the signs. The prolonged silence.

The unwavering stare directed toward the sea. Doflamingo was angry. Extremely angry.

Senor remained silent for a while. Allowing his old friend time to collect his thoughts. Eventually, he broke the silence. "Are you really alright with letting this matter slide, Master Doffy?"

The question was asked carefully. Not because Senor feared Doflamingo. But because he knew exactly how seriously Doflamingo took matters involving family. The response wasn’t immediate.

For several moments, only the sound of distant waves reached the balcony. Then Doflamingo reached for the fresh tea. He took a slow sip. The warmth did little to improve his mood.

"You already know the answer to that." His voice was calm. Too calm. Senor sighed. Because he did know. Doflamingo set the cup down. A faint crack appeared beneath the porcelain saucer. Not enough to shatter it. Just enough to reveal how tightly he had been holding it.

"No." The single word carried enough irritation to answer the entire question. "No, I’m not alright with it." His gaze never left the horizon. "Not even slightly." The air around him seemed to grow heavier.

"Neptune came into my home." His voice remained level. Measured. Controlled. Which somehow made it worse. "He entered our territory...he sat at our table...he enjoyed our hospitality." Every word sharpened. "And then he brings Whitebeard into my kingdom to pressure us into handing over one of our own."

A faint smile appeared on Doflamingo’s face. It wasn’t a pleasant smile. It was the kind of smile that had made countless enemies regret their decisions over the years.

"Does he truly think so little of us?" The question wasn’t directed at Senor. Nor was it directed at Neptune. It was directed at the situation itself. At the sheer audacity of it. Doflamingo had tolerated many things throughout his life. Insults. Threats. Schemes. Political games. But there was one thing he had never tolerated well. Being underestimated. Especially when it involved the family.

His fingers tapped lightly against the armrest. A subtle habit Senor immediately recognized. One that usually preceded violence. "If this had been anyone else..." Doflamingo chuckled softly. The sound held no amusement. "They’d already be dead."

Senor nodded. Because that wasn’t an exaggeration. It was simply fact. Had another king attempted such a stunt, the matter would have ended very differently. Had another arrived with an Emperor in tow, Dressrosa’s response would have been far less diplomatic.

Had another person tried to leverage outside pressure against the Donquixote family, their corpse would already be floating somewhere in the New World. The only reason Neptune remained alive was not because of history. Was because of one particular young prince.

Doflamingo’s expression softened ever so slightly. "Fukaboshi." The name alone carried considerable weight. Senor nodded again. The prince had earned enormous respect over the year. Not through words. Through unwavering devotion to Shirahoshi. Few people in the family doubted his sincerity.

Doflamingo exhaled slowly. "The boy practically begged." His voice carried reluctant acceptance. "On his knees." The memory lingered unpleasantly. Fukaboshi had never asked for much. Rarely requested favors. Rarely invoked personal needs.

Yet for Neptune’s sake, he had humbled himself completely. Not because he approved of his father’s actions. But because he couldn’t bear seeing his remaining family torn apart further. And Doflamingo had seen that. Seen the conflict. Seen the desperation. Seen the pain. Which was precisely why Neptune was still breathing.

"Unfortunately for me..." Doflamingo leaned back slightly. "...there are certain things I’m willing to compromise for my family’s sake." A bitter smile appeared. One filled with irritation. And resignation.

"This time..." His eyes narrowed toward the sea. "...that compromise happened to be my pride." The admission lingered between them. Because men like Doflamingo did not surrender their pride lightly. It was one of the few things he valued almost as highly as family itself. Yet when forced to choose between the two...the answer had always been the same.