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Hungry For Justice: A Hero For Lvneel Chapter 4

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Chapter Four: Priceless

* Note: Chapter will soon focus on a OC character, but she will be a crucial part to this story. And Sanji age’s is 24 for things to make sense. Also there are a few spoilers if you haven’t reached the New World yet…

As he was regaining consciousness, he thought he was left in the heavy downpour of rain. Only when he heard the familiar bawling of the reindeer did he realize he was actually covered in sticky, wet tears.
“He’s…he’s wake everybody!” exclaimed Chopper. The doctor sniffed, then proceeded out of the room. Sanji discovered he was on a soft bed, and bandages were tied around his legs. The home looked old and wooden, so he was guessing Chopper found a place for them to stay. He peered around the room, and found a worn teddy bear beside the pillow he was using. Its nametag read: Jean.
Chopper returned, bringing the crewmembers and the woman he had seen earlier. All of them looked at him in concern, except Zoro, who continued to wipe down his swords. Nami punched him in the shoulder, and he sighed and put the cloth away.
“I’m sorry, so sorry,” wailed Chopper, continuously apologizing. “I should have told somebody, but I was scared I might ruin his pride…I should have told you sooner, now his legs…”
“Calm down Chopper, I’m here now. Don’t regret anything; I’m glad you kept quiet for me. Just heal me and we’re okay.”
“Kept quiet? Sanji, you should have told me, I’m good at keeping secrets!” whined Luffy.
“Now’s not the time for that Luffy,” interjected Usopp. “Sanji has shown much bravery, and he needs rest. He doesn’t want you here to complain.”
“Your legs aren’t looking like they’re going to heal anytime soon,” inspected Franky. “Chopper told us your nerves and muscles are badly damaged, and would take a few months to heal,” added Robin. Brook quietly played on his violin, which he had retrieved from Sunny when he and Nami went to get medical supplies. Chopper insisted that they couldn’t risk moving Sanji.
“Months?! We don’t have that kind of time. We’re supposed to regroup with the alliance four weeks after this!” exclaimed Sanji. He looked at Chopper desperately support him. Chopper sadly shook his head. “As the ship doctor, I must order that you stay in bed for a week, and then take it easy for more weeks after that. Until we’re sure your legs are back to normal, no fighting. You’ll cook with one of us helping you out.”
“Damn it!”  Sanji cursed. He was supposed to be training more to prepare the next Yonko fight with Big Mama. Now, he was immobilized. The silent agreement passed between the crewmates confirmed that. Sanji looked at Zoro, expecting the swordsman to laugh, make a pun, or at least smirk. Instead, Zoro remained silent, looking somber. “Is that Marimo feeling pity for me?!” thought Sanji. That was worse. He didn’t want to get sympathy, especially from him.
“I don’t mean to be a bother, but can I address the elephant in the room now?” The mysterious woman crossed her arms. Luffy smiled at her. “Thanks for letting us stay here, Miss Old Lady.”
“My name is Paris Ciseaux, Straw Hat,” grumbled the woman. Franky spoke up. “Robin and I met her in the library. She has something to show us…mostly you.”
Paris coughed, and then started to speak. “For decades, the royal family, the Pâquerettes, started to heavily weigh us down with the taxes. King Louis began this when he wanted the palace to look grand with expensive furniture. After him, it was his daughter, Queen Marie. The rates rose when she ruled, using our money for gambling and buying dresses from lucky designers. At least they were able to make a living.” She looked at Sanji. “She died, giving her son, the current ruler, King Francois, the power to rule. During that time, he attracted the attention of a Celestial Dragon. They thought the palace looked grand in the jewels that covered most of the walls. Wanting to keep them impressed, he doubled the taxes to add more gem splendor into the castle.”
The woman sat down in the chair. Her aging hands brushed the white streaks in her blue hair. “We should have revolted, started an uprising,” she murmured softly. “Perhaps more lives would have been saved by then.”
“Then why didn’t you?” Robin inquired, gently nudging the woman to tell her story.
Paris took out a photo, picturing three family members. She pointed to a young woman, with strawberry blond hair and piercing gray eyes, which mirrored Sanji’s own.
“We all would have revolted against this family, if it weren’t for the sacrificing, loving heart of your mother, Mademoiselle Cosette.”

37 Years Ago…
“Cosette-hime!” sighed the maid. “Now is not the time to play hide and seek.” She neatly fixed the scattered pillows on the comfy bed, and then whipped the curtains to reveal a laughing little girl.
The princess was still in her nightgown. Her hair may have been tousled and a mess, but her smile took all those imperfections away. The child was only five years old, and her maid, Mademoiselle Ciseaux, was only fifteen. She had taken the role of Cosette’s personal maiden when her mother had died of scurvy.
Paris took out a glittering violet dress and a gold tiara. “Come now, Cosette,” she ordered. Cosette finally sat in her lap. The maid took out a studded black comb, and brushed the strawberry blond locks. “It tickles,” the girl giggled. Paris helped the princess into her outfit, and set the tiara on her head. “Can we play hide and seek now?” Cosette asked.
“Princess as you know your father will have my head if he finds out that I am playing with his royal child,” reminded Paris. “Besides, today he instructed me to take you out of the palace grounds.”
“But I don’t want to wave hi to those old men.” Cosette pouted. A smile escaped Paris’ mouth. She too was always bored when the men of the council visited to kiss the princess’s hand.
“No Cosette, your father wants me to take you outside of the gates today.” Paris told her. “Really? I can finally go outside?” The girl’s face instantly lit up. “Papa consented at last?”
Paris chuckled. “Yes, Cosette-hime. Now, you must hold my hand at al times while we are walking, okay?” She had forgotten that the princess wasn’t allowed to walk about on her own. “Okay, Ciseaux-san,” agreed the princess. And the two walked out of the room.
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“Get your baguettes, fresh out of the oven!” a baker announced. “Ciseaux-san, can I have one, please?” begged Cosette. “Cosette-hime, you’ve already bought a new pair of ruby slippers, butterfly hairclips, and your teddy,” sighed Paris. She took out the new stuffed bear, as if making her point.
“Put him back, Jean is sleeping,” whispered the child. The maid rolled her eyes, and put him back in the bag. They had been out for a few hours now, and it was time to head back.
“Please, Ciseaux-san, can’t I just have one? I’ll share it with you?” The princess looked at her with pleading eyes. “What if Papa doesn’t let me out again?” Paris frowned. Everyone was whining about the high taxes and hunger, yet here she was, having a full belly, plus pampered. But the princess didn’t have her freedom. “She isn’t like the rest of the royal snobs,” Paris thought to herself. “Although she can be quite demanding.”
“Fine.” Paris gave in. “We have a bit of time left, so go ahead, I’ll come along behind you.” “Yay!” Cosette cheered and ran ahead. “Wait for me, princess!” the maid called.
Cosette was tripped by a large man. "Did that peasant just call you princess?" A cruel smile spread across his features. The girl ignored him, and called out to the baker. "I'd like to buy two loaves, please," she asked. The baker nodded, and quickly gave her the bread. He took a quick glance at the large man approaching. With a nervous chuckle, he hurriedly went to focus on something else.
The man scowled. "What a spoiled brat," he growled. "Everyone is starving out here, yet you are happily filling your royal belly." He shrugged, and two more men went beside him. " I don't think your old man is cheap enough to neglect his little princess, is he?" His thick, meaty hands grabbed the girl. Cosette screamed, and started to pound on his oily bald head. She drooped her bag of food on the dusty floor.
"Get your filthy palms off Her Highness this instant!"
With a roundhouse kick, Paris knocked out one of the kidnappers unconscious.  With her heavy packages, she spun them into contact into the other one's face, sending him reeling. While he was distracted, the maid proceeded to punch the man in the gut. She kicked him in the jewels for good measure.
"Ciseaux-san!" The princess was held above the ground while the criminal was trying to stop her from brusiing his scalp. He dropped her, and stabbed the maid. She screamed.
"Get Paul; we're going," he called to the one with a bruised face. He dragged the unconscious man with him.
The people stood watching. They didn't help the ladies for fear of the beastly men and for their hatred toward the royals, yet they felt guilt for not helping the girl. It was not her fault for being born into this fate, so they didn't jeer at her openly. Besides, no one could afford to face the king's wrath now.
"Ciseaux-san, are you alright," Cosette asked. She noticed a red blotch stained Paris' simple dress, and the blood that dripped from the deep wound. The princess screamed. "Someone, please, deliver me to the castle." She stole a knife from the butcher booth close to her, and teared the sleeve of her dress. She hastily attempted to wrap it around the incision, and took out the teddy bear. "Jean-chan, cheer Ciseaux-san up," she ordered the silent toy, and placed her in Paris' arms.
"Princess, really, I'm alright." She forced a smile. Despite all the pain, she couldn't help but feel amused at Cosette's efforts to heal her. A coachman came, and helped escort them back to the palace.
The doors of the royal halls slammed open. "Father! Ciseaux-san is hurt! Please, I beg that you help her." Cosette begged.
King Francois sat upon his royal throne, talking to three of his advisers. He sighed. "Can't you see that daddy is busy?" he droned. "But she got hurt protecting me from bad people! Father, please!" his daughter cried.
The advisers spoke in a rush, but he signaled them to be silent. "Okay. Those scary criminals will be found and be drowned in the river, like all the other traitors. As for your maid, we'll ship her body to her family tomorrow."
"But-"
"My sweet child, don't you remember what daddy's taught you? All the people must obey the will of the king, because they were predestined to. All your maid did was do her duty, and if she dies, she dies. We'll have a nicer maid up and ready tomorrow." He noticed the matted and ripped dress. "I suppose I can get you another dress since today's taxes seem to be paid on time. Now run along. Daddy's got work to do." He waved her away. Cosette's shoulders sagged as she exited the room. "Posture, sweet," the king added. Cosette automatically stood straight, and headed to the royal wing.
Paris heard the whole thing. Her wound was unbearable, and the cleaning and bandaging didn't seem to alleviate any of the pain. "At least Her Highness made an effort to speak." she thought. Then the maid frowned. The king was going to turn Cosette into those silent, obedient supporters, just like her mother. The queen didn't question her husband's decisions anymore. She used to ask questions, but something must have happened between the couple. Now, as she stood next to him, the only silent protests she would do was twitch an eyebrow or quickly frown, followed by a supportive smile.
The door to the servants' quarters swung open abruptly, startling the workers inside. Paris didn't blame them. The king was known for firing his servants on a whim to add more wealth to his treasury. Paris thought she survived this long due to the princess taking a liking to her.
Boris, the head royal doctor, was shoved by Cosette herself. "Your Highness, your father will have my head if-"
"I'll have yours if you don't heal her this instant!" Cosette yelled. She scanned the crowd of confused workers, then spotted her. "Ciseaux-san, Dr. Boris is going to make you feel better. Did Jean-chan do a good job?" Paris realized she was still holding the stuffed bear.
She couldn't help but chuckle as the two headed towards her. " I guess our Cosette-hime is a fighter." she thought to herself.
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As the years passed, the taxes kept climbing, now adding even some of the high class as victims. The princess matured, and was curious as ever, always asking questions.
"Why does that man going through the trash?"
"Why are those children sick?"
"Why doesn't that old woman go somewhere to shelter from the rain?"
As always, her father waved away her questions with "the people serve the king lecture" while her mother pursed her lips, with a nod.
It was rapidly approaching Cosette's tenth birthday, which was a cause of celebration in the kingdom, at least in the royal court. The king summoned his daughter to come downstairs.
"Yes, father?" She wanted to ask about why the punishments of the kingdom were so severe for petty crimes. Her teacher had just taught her the lesson, one of the many she would need to rule Lvneel.
“Well, your king, which is I, your daddy, will be ordering the best dress in all of North Blue for you to wear, my sweet child.” Cosette, forgetting all her questions, squealed with delight. “Why thank you father, you are most generous,” she managed to say formally.
“You’re dismissed now; tell your instructors you’re on a break to prepare for the big day.” The king smiled, then shooed her away. “Yes, father,” and Cosette left with a huge smile on her face.
The king called for his head advisor. “Yes, your majesty?” He curtsied.
“Triple the taxes for today,” he ordered. “And this time, no excuses.”
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Cosette had the biggest smile on her face. The scarlet silk gown seemed to be made just for her; it was so soft, fancy, and just the right shade. She twirled again, and went to adjust the tiara on her head. She practiced her royal speech for her royal party held in the evening.
She wanted to talk to Paris. Through the five years, the two decided to call each other by first name in secret, since they were so familiar with each other. Cosette decided to head down to the servants’ quarters, knowing her friend would be there.
As she approached the room, she stopped when she heard sobbing. It sounded strangled, and there was another voice, trying to sooth the one who was crying. Cosette peeked through the cracked doorway.
“I’m so sorry, Paris, you didn’t deserve this. Don’t worry, your son is in a better place than this hell now…”
Son? Cosette tried not to gasp in horror. Surely Bernadette, who was Paris’s best friend in the department, couldn’t be talking about little Timothy. Paris once brought him to the palace. He was a delightful three year-old, and Cosette knew he was all the family Paris had left. Timothy’ father…well, he was probably the nastiest man that ever walked the green earth in Cosette’s eyes. When the toddler came to visit, the princess had entrusted him with Jean. She insisted she was too old for the bear, and it needed to be in better hands. Timothy did take a liking to the bear, after all.
“Why?” Paris’ voice shook her from her thoughts. “Why did he take him away from me? Why did he have to go and leave me alone? Why…aren’t even the servants of the royals themselves not spared from the taxes? Why did it have to double yesterday out of all days? Does fate really hate me?” The maid screeched, and Bernadette promptly covered her mouth.
“Hush, what if someone hears you?” Bernadette paused to listen.
Fearing her heart could not break any further, Cosette tiptoed away from the room, feeling remorse.
When Cosette was gone, Bernadette had a vengeful expression on her face. “We got to make them pay,” she growled. “And I think I know just the way how.” She looked at her work table. Bernadette was one of the tailors in the palace.  “How about you take away their precious princess? I think ten years is enough for her, don’t you think?”
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