“Do it now! Before it is too late Martius… I promised his mother… Solon will stand a chance, but Sanji must be sent away. I cannot protect him when I am dead-“Spiridon, the ailing King of the ailing nation of Kiot convulsed as he was wracked with yet another coughing fit. He no longer bothered to wipe the blood from his lips.

“He won’t understand, my lord-“

“It doesn’t matter if he understands Martius, it matters if he lives! Dolonius was a good man, and so his son must have something of him in him. They have spared Kiot; perhaps he will spare my son. It is his only chance.”

From the shadows, Sanji, the fifth Prince of Kiot, listened as his father pleaded with the advisor. His father was dying, and to spare his life from his cruel brothers from whom Spiridon would soon no longer to be able to protect him, he was to be sent away to the nation of Decius as a gift to the King.

A gift.

An addition to a harem.

“Do not lurk so in the shadows my son. Come, ease Martius’ heart and tell him you will abide by my decision.” The dying man wheezed.

Sanji started, but came into the light. Even on his deathbed, his father was as astute and clever as ever. Sanji had never been able to hide from him for very long. He came to his father’s side and took up a damp rag, wiping the sweat from his King’s brow.

“I would rather die by your side…”

Spiridon’s face seemed to tighten with familiar irritation.

“But I will abide you in all things, old man. But I worry for Solon. Will he withstand my other brothers’ treachery?”

Spiridon smiled gently at his most beloved son. “Solon is strong, and he has the support of the army and Martius. His men love him fiercely. But you, my lovely child, have no such luxury. Would you have been born as your sisters, I would have married you off to the King of Decius, instead of this. If Solon defeats your brothers, then you will be able to return someday and aid your brother in restoring our kingdom. But-“ He stopped again to cough. It didn’t subside for several minutes. “You must… survive… first.”

“In the end, I am still worth nothing to anyone but my face?” Sanji said, trying to retain his composure. He was furious at his own worthlessness and in despair over his father’s suffering.

“You are an excellent warrior and a quick mind, my son. You are no less than Solon. You will find your place in time, but first you-“

Sanji interrupted. “Yes, yes. I must survive first.” He smiled gently. “You’re repeating yourself, old man.”

Martius watched respectfully and quietly as they spent the last few moments together.

“I must rest... I fear, my son, this will be our final parting. King Dolonius’ son is a good man. Do not trouble him as you have troubled me your entire life.” He smiled again, but it faded to a serious gaze. “Do what you must, Sanji, to become powerful. Should Solon succeed, you will need power to return to Kiot. But remember to live a life that you are proud of.”

Sanji nodded and kissed his father’s brow. “I love you, old man.”

To Sanji’s golden hair and deep blue eyes, Solon was raven haired and green eyed. They stood at equal height, but Solon’s presence made a much deeper impression. He was the commander of Kiot’s armies, and had seen many battles. His skin was dark and toughened with the sun, and scarred in many places. Sanji’s was pale like moonlight, smooth and unmarred.

Solon in his red battle armor, Sanji in his black waist wrap, Solon his boots and Sanji his sandals. Solon his leather cuffs and helmet, Sanji his golden jewelry and coal darkened eyes.

They stood in stark contrast to each other, staring out from the highest balcony of their palace as the sun came up.

“It will be before tomorrow ends. You must leave now, or the caravan will not be far enough away to save you. My soldiers will take you to the Mesanine Outpost, where, if my messenger arrives in due time, at least a delegation from Decius will be there to meet you.”

Sanji nodded and enjoyed his brother’s calm, strong voice for what might be the last time.

“I’m sorry.” He said suddenly.

Solon looked at his younger brother. “For?”

“Not being able to stay by your side. I have nothing useful to-“

“If it meant that I have at least one brother I can love, not fear, not hate, then it was worth it. And father is always telling you that you will find your place-“

“Yes yes-”

“You have to survive first.” They said together, smiling.

They were quiet for a few more moments until Solon held something out to his younger brother.

“What is it?” Sanji held out his hand.

“It was the emblem given to me when I first made captain. I want you to have it.”

“But-“

“It’s a promise, Sanji. Where you are going… Decius. I have seen it. It is full of good, kind people with infinite amounts of opportunity. They do not hunger there. Injustice is rare, and beauty is plentiful. You may… you may not want to return. Promise me, whether I live or not, that when you have power, you will return to save our people.”

Sanji accepted the emblem, a silver wolf, and grasped it tightly. “I promise.”

Sanji left in secrecy, with only a small entourage and seven soldiers. They did not stop for rest, even through the scorching wasteland that lay between Kiot and Decius on the continent of Loth. Kiot was closer to the Desert of Dostrodos, whereas Decius was on the coast. Decius enjoyed a mild climate (though Sanji would not know, as he had never, ever left Kiot) with abundant greenery, while Kiot suffered hot, harsh winds, cracked earth, and minimal rainfall. They were not quite a desert nation, being far enough from Arabasta for that, at least.

But slowly the scenery began to change. For probably the first time in Sanji’s life, he enjoyed a cool breeze, albeit from inside the carriage. He would not be allowed outside the carriage unescorted until he reached the Steps of Eudor at the new King of Decius’ palace.

“What? Are you absolutely sure? Has anyone told the King? Rastus! Send a message immediately to Senator Nico; the King will want to know which of Spiridon’s sons has been crowned. I will go to meet the Prince at the Mesanine Post personally. This is too sudden! Platon, see to it this young man gets all the care he needs. His feet will need medical attention.”

The Kiotian messenger collapsed and the entire room was sent in to a flurry. Nami, former harem girl, now top Advisor to the King of Decius and famed cartographer, alone kept her head. She barked orders that were immediately followed, and soon she had the messenger cared for and gathered herself a respectable delegation to meet the refugee prince from Kiot.

“Wait, miss, I must tell you something…” The exhausted messenger rasped.

“What is it?”

“The Prince is not here as a political refugee… here…” He handed her a note. “I was to give this directly to the king, but… you… will need to read-“He passed out before he could say another word.

Nami held the crumpled note in her hand. “Well? Get him to the infirmary! I think I’ll just take a look at this little note-“

“Madame Advisor, do you think that wise? It’s for King-“

“Zoro can deal with it!” She snapped. “I’m not his Top Advisor for nothing.”

She opened the note and read a few hastily scrawled lines before squawking, “What?!”