Chapter 172. Arrival

"Miss, please don't scare me. What happened?" Tears welled up in Gina's eyes and were threatening to spill forth.

Margaret's tears had already dampened her lashes, with the lower ones resting softly against her face. Without uttering a word, Margaret quietly took her neatly folded clothes by the side, put them on, and walked toward the door.

Memories of Charles' delirious rambles last night filled her mind. He had even mentioned that man whom she remembered was wrapped in bandages, but he had never brought up her name, even once. Her tears uncontrollably flowed once again.

What am I to him? Am I so insignificant in Mr. Charles' heart that I can't even match up to a crew member?

With a dejected mood, Margaret slowly walked back to the Governor's Mansion. The moment she entered the main door, a mischievous whistle sounded from the side. Jack, her elder brother, stood there with his arms folded and a playful smirk plastered on his countenance.

"My dear sister, it seems like spending the day together isn't enough that you even sleep together at night?"

Margaret gritted her teeth in frustration and clenched her fists. Her punches continuously rained down on Jack as he feigned pain and cried out for her to stop.

After landing one final hefty punch on his arm, Margaret turned and stormed toward her room.

Staring at her graceful silhouette, Jack called out, "Don't worry. I covered for your absence last night. Remember! I'm always on your side!"

The moment Margaret's figure turned the corner, the playful smile on Jack's face faded.

"Have they responded?"

"Those from Hope Island have agreed to your terms and are coming over as quickly as possible. Their assistance will be a great aid to the Governor's current predicament," a voice whispered into his ear.

As he continued listening and played with his fingernails, a chilling glint flashed across Jack's eyes.

"Indeed, it is proving to be a profitable transaction, but how dare he make my sister cry...I am feeling this compelling urge to end his life."

Moments later, Jack let out a light chuckle.

"Don't... I was just kidding. Have the navy be on standby. They're likely sending more than one ship."

Meanwhile, Margaret secluded herself in her room for the entire day. Whispers among the staff suggested that the Princess of Whereto was clearly upset.

Holding a plate of dessert laden with exotic fruits from Hope Island, Gina gingerly pushed open the door to Margaret's bedroom.

"Miss, perhaps you would like a bite of this?" Gina asked.

Everything had finally clicked for her after a while. The scenario she had imagined when she first stepped into that bedroom in the morning wasn't what had transpired the previous night.

The bed was tidy, and there was no unusual or off-putting scent in the room.

The madman had merely upset her young mistress.

"I'm not hungry," said Margaret as she sprawled across a table. Her voice was laden with melancholy.

"Miss, just have a bite or two. You will feel unwell otherwise," Gina persuaded as she approached Margaret.

"I said I'm not hungry!" Margaret burst out.

Sensing Margaret's firm stance, Gina ceased her persuasion. She let out a sigh and turned to leave. But just before she could leave the room, Margaret called out. "Wait."

Gina turned around, and a slight smile appeared on her lips as she returned with the dessert tray once more.

"Has Mr. Charles eaten today?"

A look of disdain crossed Gina's face.

"Miss, why bother to feed that lunatic after what he did to upset you? I've already tied him up and planned to starve him for the next few days."

"How could you do that?! What if he starves and becomes unwell?" Margaret berated and hurriedly dashed out of her room.

Her behavior puzzled Gina as she stood rooted to her spot.

What's the meaning of this?

Returning to the two-story house, Margaret found Charles tied up with ropes in the bedroom. Her heart ached at the sight of his predicament, and she immediately moved to untie him.

Picking up the food that she had brought with him, she began to feed him, one mouthful at a time. After the meal, Charles started his rambles again. Without muttering a word, Margaret turned and left with her heart broken into pieces.

She hadn't slept a wink the previous night, but Margaret still suffered from insomnia. She tossed and turned, but sleep avoided her.

Perhaps I misunderstood Mr. Charles? Maybe those women are his sisters?

But what if they’re his lovers? Is Mr. Charles that fickle, just like other men?

And why did he not mention my name? What am I to him?

Thoughts like these raced through her mind before she finally fell into a restless sleep at six in the morning. When she woke up, it was already three in the afternoon.

She lay in her plush bed and pondered for several moments before making a decision. She decided to never step into that place again. She would leave Mr. Charles in Gina's care. Everything she had done for the past few days had been merely for her self-gratification.

Charles didn't care an ounce about her and was only concerned about some woman named Anna or Elizabeth.

From that day on, Margaret returned to her usual daily routine. She filled her time with salon visits, music, painting, plays and various other activities. But as days passed, anxiety started to sprout in her heart. She found herself often glancing toward the direction of the small house where Charles resided.

Eventually, her resolve crumbled when she heard that Charles suffered a burn on his calf. All her uneasiness, worry and anxiety turned into urgency and pushed her forward at the fastest speed to his side.

The moment she came face to face with Charles, who sat motionless on the couch, again, Margaret lunged at him with her arms spread and held him in a tight embrace.

Nestled in the comforting warmth of his embrace, her restless heart could finally find tranquility.

She muttered, "Mr. Charles, perhaps you don't like me, but I truly like you a lot. I don't know why, but I just like you. I could even die for you."

From that moment on, Margaret reverted to the days when she took care of Charles. In the day, she would personally tend to him, and whenever time allowed, she would seek solace in his arms.

She had no idea of Charles' thoughts, but to her, she felt happy and content as long as she could be by his side.

***

Staring at the brightly lit Isle of Whereto on the distant horizon, Dipp was visibly elated on the Narwhale's deck.

He cupped his hands around his mouth, mimicking the shape of a trumpet's mouth and shouted toward the island, "Captain! Wait for me! I'm coming for you!"

Following suit, Lily jumped onto Dipp's head and made the same gesture. "Mr. Charles!! Me too! I'm here to take you home as well!"

Juxtaposed to this lively scene, James was patting the back of Conor as the latter was vomiting his guts out from his seasickness.

"Are you okay? It has only been three years since your last voyage. How are you already seasick?"

With an apparently distressed visage, Conor waved him off with a gesture. "I... I'm just a little tired. I'll go and rest in the cabin. Let me know when we dock."

James turned toward Laesto, who was nonchalantly sipping on some liquor by the side.

"Doctor, don't you have any medication for seasickness?" James asked.

Laesto let out a snort. "A sailor getting seasick? That's surely unheard of. Who knew what he had been up to for the past years? Let him vomit. He just needs to get accustomed to it. That's better than any medicine.”

James approached Laesto with a smile as he regarded the old man before him. The past three years had etched deeper lines on the elderly man's visage.

"Thank you for coming. I thought you wouldn't come since it's passed the agreed duration you had with Captain," James commented.

Laesto shook his head and said, "I discovered some things, and I have questions for him."

With that, Laesto took out a black mirror from his coat pocket. It was Charles' smartphone. Emitting a harmonious melody, the phone was powered on. Laesto expertly navigated the interface and accessed the photo gallery.

"Look at these lifelike portraits and the landscapes in them. That kid wasn't lying. He's really from the Land of Light, and his origin is anything but ordinary."

Scrolling through those magical images, James was taken aback and rendered speechless.