Sea Monster Stew Chapter 6

“It’s a miracle my identity hasn’t been discovered and I’m still alive…”

 

Biche let out a deep sigh and ran her fingers through her messy hair. 

 

Her golden locks, neglected for so long, were dry and brittle, and the skin she brushed with her hand felt rough.

 

She stood blankly, observing her calloused hands. There was no trace of her monstrous heritage to be found anywhere.

 

The evidence of Biche’s sea creature father only appeared when her body touched seawater. 

 

But inside the fortress towering at the island’s center, it was hard to even see the sea. 

 

The only ocean permitted to Biche was the faint horizon visible between the tall buildings.

 

There was a way to sneak out through the water channel and follow the river to the sea. 

 

But it was impossible for Biche. Unlike other humanoid sea creatures, gills did not exist on her body.

 

Maybe they would develop in time? She had hoped and endured, but there was still no sign.

 

‘Just when are they going to appear? If only I had gills, I could get home on my own…’

 

Just as she heaved another deep sigh, she felt a gaze on her. Biche flinched and slowly turned her head.

 

A black-haired man was out on a third-floor balcony, staring intently down at her. Her eyes met his ruby-red ones. It was Boatswain Hildert.

 

Biche habitually gave him a cheerful smile. But Hildert ignored her smile and went back inside the fortress. 

 

In the swift turn of his body, she sensed a subtle anger and irritation.

 

‘Why is he angry again?’ Biche tilted her head quizzically and went inside. 

 

She went up to the floor with Hildert’s study and carefully pushed the door open.

 

The leather sack containing the gallbladder was lying abandoned by the door. It seemed the sailor who had taken the sack had already been by the study.

 

“Mr. Hildert. Sorry I’m la—”

 

The moment she closed the study door, she was lifted into the air. 

 

Hildert set her down, almost throwing her, onto a nearby cabinet and shoved his face close to hers. His solid body pressed flush against her, trapped between his spread legs.

 

“M-Mr. Hildert?”

 

Biche pressed herself against the wall as much as possible and muttered in a frightened voice. 

 

She didn’t dare even try to push Hildert away with her hands.

 

If she did, it felt like a thunderbolt would strike her down. Just like the many creature slaves whose lives Hildert had taken with a mere flick of his finger.

 

“I’m sure I told you.”

 

Hildert held her gaze and pressed down firmly on her shoulders.

 

“Not to fraternize with the sailors.”

 

His gaze slowly moved over Biche’s shoulder, landing on the large leather sack by the door. He seemed to be referring to the chivalrous sailor.

 

“But he said the sack looked heavy… that he’d carry it for me…”

 

Hildert intensely disliked Biche talking to the sailors. It was because low-quality sailors often harassed the fortress servants.

 

While she doubted any sailor would dare lay a hand on the Boatswain’s assistant, Hildert seemed to want to prevent even that remote possibility.

 

At first, she thought he was being overprotective, acting out of concern for his only assistant. 

 

But as time went on, she began to suspect there might be another motive behind his overprotectiveness.

 

Desire flickered in the crimson eyes staring at her. An emotion she couldn’t decipher—whether lust or affection—swirled chaotically within those burning pupils.

 

“…Mr. Hildert…”

 

“Get out.”

 

His words and actions were at odds. The hands gripping Biche’s shoulders tightened.

 

The body heat between them grew increasingly hot, and desire gleamed in the crimson eyes glaring at Biche’s tear-filled ones.

 

“Um…”

 

Trembling, Biche mustered her courage. She had to say what was on her mind.

 

“You have to let go of my shoulders for me to get out…”

 

The corner of his mouth, which had been staring intently at her, twitched upward. Hildert let out a soft snort and slowly pulled his body away.

 

The moment he turned his back, Biche scurried out of the study. She thought she faintly heard him mutter, “All you have is a sharp tongue.”

 

 

* * * 

 

 

The pirate archipelago ruled by the Crocus pirates, ‘Karabas’. Under Captain Hawk, there were seventeen admirals, each commanding their own ship.

 

Captain Hawk, busy with expeditions, appointed a Boatswain to manage the main island in his stead. 

 

That person was Hildert. Unlike the admirals, who each governed an island, he had to reside always on the main island.

 

Thanks to her master becoming Boatswain, Biche, his assistant, had more work than ever. 

 

It was incomparably busier than when Hildert was just the pirate fleet’s dedicated mage.

 

Between cleaning Hildert’s magic study, office, and bedroom, assisting his magical research, and serving his meals and baths, the days flew by.

 

She had thought that if she just stayed busy day by day, gills would eventually appear, allowing her to escape effortlessly. 

 

There had been a time she dreamed such a sweet dream.

 

Deep at night. Biche hid in a corner of the garden, tears dripping down. 

 

She couldn’t cry in her room, so she came outside. If she was caught crying inside the servants’ quarters, she’d be summoned by the head maid and scolded.

 

 

“Sob…“

 

She held her knees tightly with both arms, crying silently. She wasn’t so naive as to not recognize the desire Hildert was revealing. 

At some point, the way he looked at her had changed.

 

It was clear he harbored lust for her, and he seemed angry at himself for it. ‘Was he disappointed in himself for being drawn to his plain assistant?’

 

“It hurts…”

 

Bruises were forming on her shoulders where Hildert had gripped her tightly. 

 

The blue-black bruises ached, bringing fresh tears. Biche sniffled and rubbed her eyes roughly with the back of her hand.

 

She had a strong feeling that next time, it wouldn’t end with just her shoulders being grabbed. 

 

After serving his meals and baths, would she have to serve him at night too?

 

She suddenly remembered the day Hildert had made her his assistant. Back then, he seemed like a savior who would protect her. 

 

She thought he was the only one who would shield her in this madhouse of a pirate den.

 

“That damned Captain Hawk…”

 

Her arrow of anger pointed towards the pirate captain. Captain Hawk had not kept his promise to return her freedom. 

 

The moment he assigned Biche to be Hildert’s assistant, he seemed to have completely forgotten her existence. 

 

His vague promise to send her back to her homeland someday had been a lie.

 

“…Mother… Father…”

 

Now, thinking of her parents, whose faces were becoming blurry, her sobs grew even louder.

 

‘If only I had gills. I’d run away from this damned pirate den right now.’ 

 

Wiping her tears fiercely, she made this vow.

 

“Hey.”

 

Then, a low, husky voice came from above. Biche rubbed her tear-filled eyes and jerked her head up.

 

Beyond the bushes where Biche was hiding stood a man with ash-grey hair. He rubbed his sleep-heavy eyes and looked down at her.

 

His face seemed somewhat familiar. The ash-haired slave boy came to mind.

 

‘Could it be…?’

 

As she stared blankly at the man’s furrowed brows, he threw a rebuke at her in a rough voice.

 

“Shut it. Crying in front of my window in the middle of the night, you wanna die?”

 

“S-sorry.”

 

“If you’re gonna cry, go do it somewhere else.”

 

“…Yes…”

 

Biche unintentionally lowered her gaze. 

 

The man was wearing only black pants. Her eyes were drawn to his erect nipples, stiff from the cold. 

 

The man, who had been yawning lazily, noticed Biche’s gaze and grinned.

 

 

“Where are you looking?”

 

“Ah, no! I wasn’t looking!”

 

“You were eyeing mine, same as I was eyeing yours. Let’s call it even.”

 

The man waved a hand lightly and turned away. Biche stared blankly at his retreating back, then flushed red.

 

“I must be crazy.”

 

Letting out a short groan, she quickly crossed her arms over her chest. 

 

Her nightgown was thin, making her body clearly visible through it. 

 

Moreover, underneath the thin gown, she was completely naked.

 

And with the moonlight bright enough, it was inevitable that the peaks of her chest were outlined against the fabric.

 

“What a disgrace…” Biche bit her lip and hurried back to the quarters. 

 

The night wind was chillingly cold, but the heat rushing to her face showed no sign of abating.

 

Fortunately, the maids sharing her room were all fast asleep. 

 

At least she wouldn’t get in trouble with the head maid for being out in the garden at night. Biche sighed in relief and carefully lay down in bed.

 

The face of the ash-haired man floated before her eyes. Remembering his distinct amber eyes, Biche frowned.

 

‘…He does look similar… But there’s no way he wouldn’t recognize me.’

 

Her feelings were complicated. She hoped the man was the boy she had been desperately searching for, but at the same time, she hoped he wasn’t.

 

The man had acted as if he didn’t know her at all.

 

If the boy had lived all this time completely forgetting her, then what was the point of her desperately searching for him these past five years?

 

Biche squeezed her eyes shut under the covers. She tossed and turned, but couldn’t fall into a proper sleep until dawn broke.