SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant

Chapter 368: Chapter 368: Bathroom Visit

The door opened without ceremony.

Trafalgar didn’t turn right away. He heard the hinge move, felt the shift in presence more than the sound itself. The bathroom remained quiet, the air still warm from the water, marble reflecting soft light without judgment.

Footsteps stopped just inside.

”Young master.”

Caelum’s voice carried the same tone it always did—controlled, precise, devoid of unnecessary weight. When Trafalgar finally lifted his gaze, their reflections met in the mirror. Caelum stood straight-backed, coat immaculate, hair combed cleanly back as if nothing in the castle had been out of place tonight. His yellow eyes were fixed on Trafalgar, sharp and assessing, missing nothing.

Trafalgar set the towel aside and turned halfway toward him. ”I didn’t expect anyone to follow me,” he said calmly.

Caelum closed the door behind him, careful, deliberate. The sound was soft, final. ”I noticed,” he replied. ”This bathroom isn’t the closest one to the hall.”

”That’s the point,” Trafalgar said. He leaned back against the marble edge of the basin, arms resting loosely at his sides. ”A place without attention. Without whispers. Without people suddenly pretending they care.” His gaze flicked back to Caelum through the mirror. A faint pause followed. ”Well. Except yours.”

He shut off the tap at last and glanced at Caelum through the mirror. ”You didn’t come just to comment on that,” he said. ”So say what you came to say.”

”Right,” Caelum said. He stepped closer, stopping at a respectful distance. ”I came because there are things you should hear. And because it was better said here than anywhere else.”

”There are two things,” he said at last. ”Both relevant. Both better said away from the hall.”

Trafalgar waited.

”The first concerns Lady Rivena,” Caelum continued. His tone remained even, professional, but there was a trace of something more personal beneath it. ”I owe you an explanation. I didn’t intervene directly when the situation escalated.” A pause. ”That was a choice.”

Trafalgar’s eyes narrowed slightly, not in anger, but in focus.

”If I had stepped in myself,” Caelum went on, ”it would have required justification. Questions. Attention from people who would have enjoyed pulling at the thread.” His gaze sharpened. ”Instead, I sent Lysandra. She was already involved, already positioned to act without raising alarms.”

”I figured,” Trafalgar said quietly.

Caelum inclined his head. ”I wanted you to hear it from me. Not as an excuse. As context.”

The second silence felt different. Heavier.

”And the duel,” Caelum said.

That drew Trafalgar’s full attention.

”Well fought,” Caelum stated simply. There was no flattery in it. ”From this moment on, no one in this house will see you as lesser.” His eyes held steady. ”They may resent you. They may fear you. But they will not dismiss you.”

Trafalgar let out a soft breath through his nose. ”That was inevitable.”

”Yes,” Caelum agreed. ”But inevitability doesn’t lessen the impact.” He gestured subtly toward the hall beyond the walls. ”Your name already carried weight after your father revealed your talent. What happened today gave that weight shape. Substance.”

He paused before adding, ”It’s only a matter of time before it reaches beyond this house.”

Trafalgar’s mouth curved faintly. Not quite a smile. ”A world-famous prodigy,” he said dryly. ”Sounds flattering. Also sounds like a good way to collect enemies.”

Caelum’s expression didn’t change. ”It is.”

Their eyes met in the mirror.

”Which is precisely why,” Caelum said, ”you’ll need to be careful from now on.”

Caelum let that settle before speaking again.

”There’s one more thing,” he said. His gaze stayed on Trafalgar, measured. ”The real reason I came.”

Trafalgar turned slightly, attention sharpening. ”Go on.”

”Your father is proud of you.”

The words landed heavier than any praise before them.

Trafalgar blinked once, then let out a quiet breath. ”Proud,” he repeated. There was no disbelief in his voice, only a restrained edge of irony. ”Of me.” His eyes flicked back to the mirror. ”After I broke Darion’s face with my fists.”

”Yes,” Caelum replied without hesitation. ”Because of that.”

Trafalgar’s brow creased faintly. ”That’s hard to believe.”

Caelum shook his head once. ”It isn’t, if you look at it from his side.” He took a step closer, voice lowering just enough to carry weight. ”You protected yourself. You didn’t shrink. You didn’t apologize for your existence after revealing your talent.” His eyes hardened slightly. ”You stood where you were placed and made sure no one could push you aside.”

Silence stretched.

”He said you were at his height,” Caelum added. ”Those were his words.”

Trafalgar turned fully now. ”Did he see it?”

”Yes.”

The answer came immediately.

”While traveling,” Caelum continued. ”Gate to Gate. He watched the entire duel.” A pause, brief but telling. ”From his tone, it was clear he was satisfied.”

Trafalgar stared at his reflection, unreadable.

It made sense. Valttair had never valued restraint mistaken for weakness. The house came first. Survival came before comfort. What he had done to Darion had been brutal, yes. But it had been decisive. Final.

’So that’s how he saw it,’ Trafalgar thought.

Caelum straightened. ”From this point on,” he said quietly, ”there’s no question where you stand.”

Trafalgar broke the silence himself.

”Don’t call him my father,” he said quietly. There was no sharpness in it, just a firm line drawn. ”Not to me.”

Caelum inclined his head at once. ”Understood.” A brief pause followed, respectful rather than awkward. ”My apologies. I’ll refer to him as Valttair when we speak.”

Trafalgar nodded once, accepting that without comment. His gaze lingered on the mirror for a moment longer before shifting back to Caelum. Whatever weight the conversation had carried eased slightly, settling into something more controlled.

”Is that all?” Trafalgar asked.

”Almost,” Caelum replied. He hesitated just long enough to signal that what came next mattered. ”There’s one last thing he asked me to pass on.”

Trafalgar waited.

”When Valttair returns from his meeting with the Sylvanel matriarch,” Caelum said, ”he intends to give you a birthday gift.”

That earned a reaction at last. Trafalgar’s brow lifted faintly. ”A gift?”

”Yes.”

”For turning seventeen,” Trafalgar said, more to himself than as a question.

”So I was told.”

Silence returned, different this time. Not heavy. Anticipatory.

”A gift,” Trafalgar repeated, considering it. From Valttair, that could mean anything. An object. An opportunity. A burden disguised as generosity. Whatever it was, it wouldn’t be simple, and it certainly wouldn’t be sentimental.

Caelum didn’t elaborate, and Trafalgar didn’t ask him to.

”The details weren’t shared with me,” Caelum added. ”Only that it would be given in person.”

”Alright,” Trafalgar murmured.

Caelum stepped back toward the door, hand resting briefly on the handle. ”That’s all I had to say, Young master”

A small courtesy.

”Get some rest,” Caelum said. ”The house will be loud tonight. Tomorrow won’t be.”

The door closed softly behind him.

Left alone once more, Trafalgar looked at his hands, clean now, unmarked. Seventeen. A war approaching. A reputation already set in motion. And somewhere ahead, a gift waiting with his name on it.

’So it begins,’ he thought.