Chapter 209: Widowhood Has Nothing to Do With This

James Cook was the captain of the Titanic Whale.

Charlot Mecklenburg had once befriended Captain Francis Drake of the White Sea Dragon and this James Cook in the city of Cappadocia. With their help, he had defeated a fleet of slave traders and established a financial relationship with both captains through gold pounds.

Incidentally, Charlot had entrusted Julian Arsilo to wager two thousand gold pounds on his victory against Count Lamorak, and the return had quadrupled to over eight thousand gold pounds. Including his earlier savings, Charlot now possessed over nine thousand gold pounds, which made him quite wealthy, even by Ingrima Empire standards.

Upon seeing James Cook, Charlot warmly embraced him, and the feeling was mutual.

During their last encounter in Cappadocia, James Cook had been delighted. Upon returning to Britain, he learned that Charlot had not only delivered Chatham and other key targets’ heads as promised but had also portrayed him and Francis Drake as heroes in official documents. These reports credited them with rescuing foreign envoys, recapturing Cappadocia, and defeating a pirate fleet.

James Cook had also heard that Emperor Alfred Guillaume greatly favored Charlot, summoning him several times and even granting him a role in the Ingrima Empire’s government. This further convinced James Cook that this young man was worth befriending.

Charlot arrived at the port early and was invited aboard the Titanic Whale, where James Cook arranged for him to stay in a luxurious guest room, second only to the captain’s quarters.

By noon, Aurora Soumet arrived at the dock with a team and boarded the ship. When she saw Charlot and James Cook chatting and laughing like old friends, she could hardly believe her eyes.

James Cook, now thirty-five years old, held the imperial rank of Sub-Lieutenant, Level 25. He was a high-ranking Transcendent with formidable Ocean Combat Energy. Rising through merit alone, he commanded a magical alchemical warship, making him an exceptional figure in the Imperial Navy. Generally, he looked down on those who climbed ranks through noble birth and often treated even Aurora, a Level 19 diplomat and cultural officer under the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, with aloof indifference, sticking strictly to business.

Yet, this proud naval captain was now chatting with a foreign diplomat as though they were brothers.

Aurora, feeling a mix of amazement and reflection, recalled her father’s advice from recent days about seizing opportunities. She had initially dismissed such conventional rhetoric, but now, seeing Charlot and James Cook, she felt a flicker of interest.

Charlot greeted Aurora with warmth—they were, after all, friends bonded by ties deeper than gold. For Aurora, Charlot had fought duels, acquiring two magical rapiers, two knight’s lances, and even the unicorn griffon, all of which were premium items. This history of shared experiences created a bond stronger than his camaraderie with James Cook.

Although James Cook harbored some resentment toward Aurora for outranking him due to her family’s influence, he maintained civility, smiling as he greeted her, though his distant demeanor was evident.

Aurora saw no reason to curry favor with James Cook. The three gathered, chatting idly as they waited for the Grand Princess’s arrival.

The afternoon came and went, yet the Grand Princess did not appear.

James Cook dared not urge her but muttered some complaints, which Charlot responded to with only a polite smile, remaining an attentive listener.

When James Cook was in the midst of criticizing the Grand Princess’s eccentricities—mentioning her seclusion after her husband’s death as unsuitable for a diplomatic envoy—the sky darkened slightly. A figure cloaked in black appeared above the magical alchemical warship.

Charlot almost exclaimed in surprise. The figure bore a striking resemblance to a recent "neighbor" he had encountered—same black robe, same elegant figure, same deadly and enigmatic aura.

The only difference was that this black-robed Grand Princess now carried a book.

Charlot would never have imagined that the mysterious Saint-ranked neighbor he had met was, in fact, the Grand Princess herself.

James Cook, mid-rant, noticed Charlot’s stunned expression and followed his gaze skyward, where he too froze in astonishment.

A chilling voice descended from above:
“Prepare me a quiet cabin.”

James Cook hurriedly led the way, arranging a cabin next to the captain’s quarters, directly across from Charlot’s room.

Charlot and Aurora watched as the Grand Princess entered her quarters and instructed that she not be disturbed. The two stifled their laughter, exchanged farewells with James Cook, and returned to their respective rooms.

James Cook, needing to command the magical warship for departure, had no time to accompany them further. He returned to his quarters, drenched in cold sweat, wondering if the princess had overheard his earlier grumbling.

Back in his room, Charlot resumed his usual routine, cultivating his Blood Glory technique. After completing his practice with all the Blood Vortexes, he pondered how to pass the time. Travel by ship in this era was undeniably dull.

A knock at his door interrupted his thoughts. Assuming it was Aurora, he opened the door, only to find the elegant, black-cloaked figure of the Grand Princess standing there.

This was Princess May Guillaume!

Her robe obscured her face entirely, revealing only a pair of lifeless eyes.

Charlot performed the imperial salute and was about to speak when she cut him off:
“Do you have books? I only brought one, and I’ve finished it.”

Charlot, momentarily taken aback, asked, “Books? What kind?”

“Novels,” the princess replied curtly.

Charlot, having skimmed through some Old Continent novels since his transmigration, internally dismissed them as poorly written with clichéd plots. He thought, “These stories can’t even compare to amateur writers pleading for reviews on forums.”

Though he didn’t voice these thoughts, his disdainful expression betrayed him.

For the first time, the princess’s lifeless eyes seemed to gain a spark of vitality as she remarked coldly, “You, of all people, look down on these literary masters?”

“Do you know how many stories of love and loss, heroism and tragedy, grandeur and suspense they’ve created?”

“Do you realize how deeply they’ve explored human nature, upheld morality, cherished humanity, and expressed compassion?”

With a casual gesture of her slender hand, she unleashed a pressure akin to a mountain’s weight. Charlot could barely resist, struggling to draw his rapier as he frantically channeled his Blood Glory.

“I am a great admirer of classic literature!” he cried, gasping for breath.

Never had he imagined that his disdain for Old Continent novels would offend a Saint-ranked princess of such high status.

Widowhood, it seemed, had little to do with this incident...

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