Hungry For Justice: A Hero For Lvneel: A One Piece Fanfic

Chapter Five: The Thief

* Note: For those who are coming from Reddit (yes I have an account now) or wondering where I got the ideas from. I deeply apologize again if I sounded like I was taking credit for the Sanji theory. All rights and credits go to the original creators, like Alpha2Late17 on Youtube. I only weave my magic using the theories and characters into my story. The thing I will take credit for are my OC's, unless you promise to give credit. Sorry I just had to get this across before moving on. I hate feeling guilty without owing my success to the ones who created it. Anyways, onward to chapter five!!!

Cosette was still staring at herself in the mirror when there was a sharp knock on the door. She ignored it.

Cosette couldn't understand. Actually, she could. Five years ago Paris had risked her life to save Cosette's, and what had she received for that bravery? Nothing. She was literally left for dead by her father.

Then again, Paris had been in the palace for ten years now. Even her own mother did more than acknowledge her presence; Queen Charlotte always used her manners, curtly giving her thanks when the maid was babysitting the princess. Then she would sometimes observe the two playing together.

She always did that, observe. Cosette had asked her once why she didn't help father with country affairs. The queen had only smiled and replied that the king had everything in control, and she was there as his supporter, for there was nothing for her to do. Queen Charlotte would just watch the meetings of the council on the sidelines. Although she looked like she had her views, her mouth was sealed shut, as if by discipline. Cosette didn't understand why. "Father and Mother love each other, so why does Mother act so afraid to speak?" she once thought to herself.

The point was, Paris had done for than enough to earn her keep in the palace. Yet she still suffered from the taxes. And it had claimed a life. Cosette's head was dizzying from the fact. She knew people were growing hungry, and that unfortunate events occurred. Death wasn't new. There were many rebels who hated her father, and wanted him out of the throne. When Cosette asked him, the king had told her that the taxes were being used to beautify their home so that the subjects may find delight in it. The rebels, when they were caught, were gagged, and their ankles and wrists were bound together. The "traitors of the kingdom" proceeded to be thrown into a lake, and were drowned. So death didn't faze her as much.

With a clearer vision, she found the cold truth: in exchange for a bejeweled castle, there would be people dying because they couldn't simply buy food to eat. There were so many jewels and precious metals in her home. Even the dining silverware was studded with pink diamonds on each tip. "What are you thinking father? By the time you deem the palace is fit for a king, you'll have no subjects to admire it with you," she thought bitterly.

The knocking repeated. "Cosette, it's me," rang the familiar voice. The princess froze. Paris was acting strange. She didn't sound like she'd been crying, yet she was a few moments ago. And Paris never knocked on the door. She would always unceremoniously barge in, whether Cosette was undressing or not.

"It's time for your hair cut," the maid continued. Cosette frowned. Father said nothing about a hair appointment for the big day. And when she did, Paris was never the one to do so. She had once told her that there was no artistic bone in her body.

Before she could ask, the door swung open. Paris stalked in, as if a ghost. Her puffy eyes were steely cold with determination. Cosette's eyes fixed on the large pair of scissors that her friend grasped in her hand.

Those were not for cutting hair.

Cosette knew those were used by the clothing designers of the palace. She had seen one of them being held as the tailor expertly designed a robe her father was wearing. The tailoring scissors were to be used with skill, and they were sharp.