SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant

Several hours passed on the train.

Cynthia fell asleep after talking with Trafalgar for most of the journey, their conversation drifting between serious things and lighter ones until exhaustion finally caught her. Her head had ended up against his shoulder, her breathing slow, one hand resting near the bag on her lap. Trafalgar did not move her. He only sat there, watching the scenery rush past the window, thinking that he wanted to kiss her. More than that, if he was being honest with himself. But wanting something and taking the next step were different matters, and for once, he did not feel like rushing ahead just because the path had opened.

The right thing, first, was to speak with Aubrelle and Mayla. He respected both of them far too much to move forward with Cynthia behind their backs, even if Cynthia had already spoken with them, even if Mayla had told him more than once that she knew other women would eventually come near him. Maybe the conversation would be simple. Maybe they had already seen it coming from miles away. That did not change the fact that Trafalgar wanted to stand in front of them and say it himself.

Velkaris appeared beyond the window at last.

The capital spread across the horizon with its usual impossible weight, towers, roads, walls, and districts layered into a city that looked less built than carved into the world by centuries of power. Trafalgar looked at it for a while, then lowered his gaze to Cynthia. He touched her shoulder gently. ”Cynthia. We are here.”

She stirred slowly, lashes fluttering before her eyes opened. For a breath, she looked half-lost between sleep and waking. ”Have we arrived?”

”Yes. We are in Velkaris.”

Cynthia blinked properly, and awareness returned far too quickly for her comfort. She realized she had been sleeping on his shoulder. She realized he was close. She also seemed to realize, with the horror of someone remembering dignity existed, that she had just woken up in front of him without arranging anything about herself first.

Trafalgar watched her try to smooth her hair with one hand while pretending she was not embarrassed.

”You look fine,” he said.

”I did not ask.”

”You were thinking it loudly.”

Cynthia gave him a sleepy glare, but there was no force behind it. Trafalgar stood first, taking his suitcase, and she followed after a moment with her own luggage. The train doors opened, and the students began spilling out into Velkaris station, voices rising as groups reunited, servants collected bags, and guards directed the returning Academy crowd through the platform.

Trafalgar stepped down and waited beside the carriage.

Velkaris was already roaring around them. Humans, beastkin, dwarves, vampires, and other races moved through the station in overlapping streams, all of them swallowed into the capital’s endless appetite. Cynthia stepped down after him and stood at his side, still adjusting to the shift from train quiet to city noise.

She glanced toward the exit. ”Are we waiting for someone?”

”For Director Selara. I need to speak with her before we separate.”

Cynthia’s expression changed slightly. ”Is it about what happened in Aurevane?”

”Yes.” Trafalgar looked toward the last carriage. ”That is why I need to see her now. Do not worry. I will tell you what I can when we meet Aubrelle and Mayla. More than that, actually. It is the least you deserve.”

Cynthia held his gaze for a moment, the nerves from earlier settling into something steadier. ”I will keep your secrets, Trafalgar.”

”I appreciate it.” His voice softened.

Selara emerged from the carriage a short while later.

The homunculus walked beside her with a hood drawn over her head, one small hand held in Selara’s. The cloak covered most of her, hiding the strange pallor of her skin and the marks that might draw the wrong kind of attention. Cynthia saw her and went quiet at once. She did not ask. Her eyes lingered, confused and unsettled, but she held herself back, which Trafalgar appreciated more than he said.

Selara noticed Cynthia beside him immediately.

Her gaze moved from Trafalgar to Cynthia, then back again, and her face carried the exhaustion of a woman who had spent days cleaning up after crimes committed by people who loved calling themselves scholars. ”Are you sure about bringing an Academy student into this?”

”Yes, she would find out sooner or later” Trafalgar said.

Selara’s brow lifted.

Trafalgar added, with a calm that made Cynthia stiffen beside him, ”She will be my wife in the future.”

Cynthia’s face caught fire.

She turned toward him so quickly that her hair shifted over her shoulder, mouth opening as if she had at least three different reactions fighting to leave first. None of them won. Trafalgar kept looking at Selara as if he had said something perfectly ordinary.

Selara stared at him for a moment, then sighed. ”So another one finally fell to your charms. I hope you treat her well too, the way you treat my dear assistant Aubrelle.”

Cynthia looked as if the station had become dangerously short on air.

Trafalgar ignored that part for her sake. ”I needed to remind you about her.” His attention moved toward the hooded homunculus. ”If anything happens, do not hesitate. And inform me immediately. You may be in danger if people discover she is with you. I assume you trust Matteo, but I do not know what to think of him yet.”

Selara’s grip on the homunculus’s hand remained gentle. ”You can trust Matteo with this much. He may be irritating enough to make patience feel like a wasting disease, but he has sense. He will not speak. Besides, he does not know everything that happened. Your ’assistant,’ if that is what we are calling him, made sure Matteo slept through the parts that mattered most.”

”It was better for everyone,” Trafalgar said. ”If he had heard certain things, I would not have been able to let him walk away as freely.”

”I understood that when I saw what Caelum did.” Selara’s mouth thinned. ”I did not enjoy understanding it.”

”You were not supposed to.”

”No. I imagine not.”

Trafalgar adjusted his hold on the suitcase. ”We are leaving now. There are no classes for the next two days, so I will see you later, Director.”

Selara looked at him for a breath longer, and some of her severity softened without disappearing. ”Be careful, Trafalgar.”

”I try.”

”Try harder.” She began to turn away, the homunculus following at her side. Before leaving, Selara threw one last glance over her shoulder. ”And I will see you later, personal chef.”

Cynthia waited until Selara had taken a few steps before looking at Trafalgar. ”Personal chef?”

Trafalgar exhaled through his nose. ”Last year I took a cooking elective. She did me a favor, so I ended up cooking for her. Somehow that title survived.”

”Somehow?”

”Do not sound so suspicious.”

”I am starting to think every strange thing around you has a long explanation.”

”Most of them do.”

Cynthia looked toward Selara’s back, then toward the hooded figure beside her. ”I suppose what you discussed with Director Selara is something that will come up when we meet Mayla and Aubrelle?”

Trafalgar nodded. ”Yes. I am trying to be transparent with you. With all of you. It is the least I can do, so you know what to expect from being close to me.”

Cynthia was quiet for a moment. The station noise moved around them, but between them the air felt oddly separate, held in place by what had been said on the train and what had not happened yet.

”Then let us go,” she said.

Trafalgar looked at her. ”Nervous?”

”Yes,” Cynthia admitted. ”But I would rather be nervous honestly than comfortable because we avoided the conversation.”

”That sounds like a good answer.”

”It is. I worked hard on it.”

A faint smile crossed his face. ”I can tell.”

They left the platform together, moving into the currents of Velkaris with their luggage in hand. Behind them, Selara disappeared into another passage with the hooded homunculus. Somewhere else in the capital, Caelum would be dealing with Esmond in whatever quiet, unsettling way Caelum handled dangerous cargo. Trafalgar did not need to know the details. He had enough waiting for him already.

Ahead, Mayla’s apartment waited.

They finally reached the northern district on foot, the noise of Velkaris changing around them as the station crowds gave way to cleaner streets, quieter balconies, and buildings with private wards threaded through their doors.

Cynthia walked beside him without saying much, though Trafalgar could feel the nerves returning with every step. It was one thing to speak about Aubrelle and Mayla on the train. It was another to stand in front of the door where the conversation would stop being theoretical.

Trafalgar entered the building first and stopped before Mayla’s apartment. He took out a key, slid it into the lock, and turned it without hesitation.

Cynthia blinked. ”You have the key?”

”It would be stranger if I did not,” Trafalgar said, opening the door. ”I bought the place, even if Mayla ended up keeping it.”

”That is a very casual way to say something expensive.”

Trafalgar stepped inside and paused, listening. Two voices came from deeper in the apartment, one softer and one brighter. Aubrelle was here too.

”Nice,” Trafalgar said. ”I can hear both of them. It seems they knew we were coming back today.”

Cynthia drew in a careful breath and followed him inside.