Anyone on the island who learned their identities would have reacted the same way, let alone the owner.
If the owner hadn't seen so much in his life and had nerves of steel, he might already have dropped to his knees.
That was how intimidating their identities as pirates were.
Pirates could be easy to talk to one moment and utterly ruthless the next. Slaughtering a town or destroying an island was hardly unheard of.
The owner turned and met Kuta's kind azure eyes. He forced a stiff smile, then quickly set the wine cup in front of him.
"Si..." The owner visibly hesitated. He picked up the wine jar, peeled away its paper seal, and poured as he explained, "G-guest, my father brewed this himself. We rarely sell it."
"He brewed it himself?" Kuta's eyes lit up as he watched the pale green wine pour from the jar. He sniffed and swallowed.
He had known it was good wine before. Now that he could smell it and see it, he knew it was truly exceptional.
It reminded him of the fine wine he had paid three hundred thousand for when he first set out to sea—just a pound and a half of it. This might be even better.
"Please."
The owner set down the jar and gestured to the cup, watching Kuta intently.
It was one of the few things his family took pride in.
If it pleased the man before him, that would make for a
fine story.
Ordinary pirates who came here never got to drink his father's wine!
It was a coincidence that Kuta had come today. With few customers around, the owner had been sorting through the jars his father had delivered that morning.
"Thank you."
Kuta thanked the owner and picked up the cup.