SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant

”Now that,” Trafalgar said, ”is something I did not expect.”

Xavier stopped walking as if Trafalgar had placed a blade across the floor in front of him.

Vivienne did not stop with him. She only turned her head slightly, glanced at their joined hands, and accepted with visible dignity that arriving like this had removed any chance of entering quietly. Xavier, unfortunate creature that he was, had not prepared for an entire table to witness the evidence.

Barth’s mouth opened first.

Cynthia’s cup paused halfway to her lips.

Zafira leaned back a little, her previous mood buried beneath the sort of curiosity people usually reserved for accidents happening at a safe distance.

Trafalgar looked from Xavier to Vivienne, then to their hands again. ”I will admit, I thought this would take longer. Much longer, if I am being generous.”

Xavier’s face reddened at once. ”It is not that dramatic.”

”It is a little dramatic,” Cynthia said, recovering fast now that someone else had become the morning’s sacrifice. ”You walked here holding her hand in front of everyone. That is not exactly subtle.”

Vivienne’s mouth curved, faint and composed. ”Xavier said we should not hide it.”

Xavier looked betrayed that she had used his own courage against him.

”I said that before remembering Trafalgar would be here.”

”Wise men consider the battlefield before marching,” Trafalgar said.

”You did not consider the battlefield when you announced you and Cynthia were dating,” Xavier replied, a little desperate now.

”I did. I judged it harmless.”

Cynthia turned toward him slowly. ”Harmless?”

”For me.”

”That explains more than you think.”

Barth finally found enough air to speak. ”Wait, wait, wait. You two are also together? Since when? How many things happened while I was not paying attention?”

”Apparently enough to justify taking notes,” Zafira said.

Barth’s enthusiasm turned helpless. He looked between Trafalgar and Cynthia, then Xavier and Vivienne, as if the academy cafeteria had changed into a meeting for couples and he had arrived with no weapon.

”This is good, though,” he said. ”It is really good. I mean, Xavier looked like he might collapse every time Vivienne spoke to him, so this is probably healthier.”

Xavier closed his eyes briefly. ”Thank you, Barth. Very helpful.”

Vivienne gave Xavier’s hand a small squeeze. It did not rescue him. It only made him blush harder, which the table immediately noticed.

Trafalgar took his seat again with far more satisfaction than he had any right to possess. ”So, Cynthia and I. Xavier and Vivienne.” He took his cup, letting the pause stretch only enough to be cruel. ”That leaves Barth.”

Barth froze.

The betrayal on his face was almost majestic.

”Me?”

Cynthia’s expression brightened with sudden, merciless interest. ”He is right. You are the only one left.”

”I do not think this is a process where everyone must be paired before breakfast.”

”That sounds like something said by a man without prospects,” Zafira replied.

Barth turned to her with wounded disbelief. ”You too?”

Zafira lifted one shoulder. ”You are the only easy target available.”

”I was happy for everyone.”

”That made you vulnerable.”

Xavier, seeing a path out of his own humiliation, grabbed it with both hands. ”Do you have anyone in mind, Barth? We can be supportive.”

”I–I do not need support.”

”You might need a strategy,” Cynthia said. ”You are good-hearted, which is useful, but you also panic whenever the conversation becomes personal.”

Barth straightened with the wounded dignity of a man being described accurately in public. ”I do not panic.”

Trafalgar gave him a measured look.

Barth lasted half a breath before lowering his voice. ”I do not always panic.”

Vivienne laughed softly, and the sound helped loosen the table. Xavier’s shoulders eased. Cynthia’s embarrassment from earlier had almost vanished now that she could redirect every ounce of cruelty toward her brother. Zafira, despite the dullness Trafalgar had caught in her earlier, handled the exchange with enough poise to make it look effortless.

Trafalgar’s attention returned to Vivienne without his face changing.

Her hand rested near Xavier’s now, close enough to brush his fingers whenever she moved. It was a small thing, but it altered the shape of the table. Vivienne was no longer merely someone connected to him through secrets and bloodlines. She was beside Xavier, and Xavier did not know half of what sat beneath the ground he was walking on.

Vivienne knew part of it.

Rhosyn. The Primordial blood. The parts of Trafalgar’s existence that could not be handed around as gossip, confession, or proof of intimacy. Xavier mattered to him, but that did not give anyone the right to drag him into ancient hatred because romance had made discretion feel inconvenient.

Vivienne noticed Trafalgar watching her.

She did not react openly. She only lowered her cup and said, with perfect calm, ”I will be right back.”

Xavier released her hand a little clumsily. ”Ah, yes. Of course.”

Vivienne left the table, walking toward the corridor that led away from the cafeteria’s noise. Trafalgar waited long enough that no one could accuse him of rising after her immediately, though Cynthia’s attention flicked toward him with clear suspicion.

He stood. ”I need to check something.”

Cynthia did not ask what. Her expression said she would remember it later.

Barth was too busy trying to defend his romantic future from Xavier and Zafira to notice much of anything.

Trafalgar caught up with Vivienne near the quieter bend of the corridor, where the cafeteria’s murmur dulled against stone and mana-sealed doors. She stopped before he spoke, which saved time.

”You cannot tell Xavier what you know,” Trafalgar said.

Vivienne turned to face him. There was no surprise in her expression. No outrage either.

”I know.”

Trafalgar studied her. ”Knowing it and doing it are not always the same thing.”

”They are, when the person is not stupid.” Vivienne folded her hands in front of her, elegant even with the bluntness in her voice. ”I care about Xavier. That does not mean I intend to prove it by handing him secrets that could put him in danger.”

”Good.”

”But you came here to hear me say it.”

”Yes. I needed to make sure.”

Vivienne accepted that without offense. ”Then I will say it plainly. I will not tell him about Dravok, your bloodline, or anything else you have not chosen to place in his hands yourself. If one day Xavier learns, it will be from you, not from me.”

Trafalgar did not soften, but some of the edge left the air.

”If you ever did tell him without permission, you know what could happen.”

”I know enough.”

”Then hear the rest. Xavier would not merely know something dangerous. He would become part of it. People could use him. Follow him. Question why he knew. And if that information reached the wrong ears, the consequences would not stop with a damaged friendship.”

Vivienne’s face lost the last trace of morning warmth.

”I understand.”

”Do you?”

”Yes,” she said. ”Because if I tell him, I make myself feel less alone for a day and leave him carrying something he cannot put down.”

That answer was better than Trafalgar expected.

Vivienne watched him notice it, though she was polite enough not to smile. ”You do not need to protect Xavier from me.”

”I protect my people from anything that can harm them.”

”Including the women they choose?”

”Including everyone.”

Vivienne considered that, then nodded once. ”Fair enough.”

For a breath, neither spoke. The conversation had ended where it needed to. Trafalgar had drawn the line, and Vivienne had stepped behind it without forcing him to push.

”Alright,” Trafalgar said. ”I would rather not ruin Xavier’s morning more than necessary.”

Vivienne’s composure cracked just a little. ”You already did that by existing near him.”

Trafalgar looked back toward the cafeteria. ”That is not my fault.”

They returned to the table a minute later, walking separately enough that Xavier did not look worried, though Cynthia’s face told Trafalgar she had noticed every inch of it. Zafira noticed too, because of course she did, but she only drank from her cup and kept her thoughts to herself.

Vivienne took her place beside Xavier again. This time, Xavier reached for her hand under the table with far less certainty than before. She let him, and the small relief that crossed his face made Barth smile despite being the current victim of everyone’s jokes.

Trafalgar sat down and picked up his cup.

Cynthia leaned slightly closer. ”Everything fine?”

”Yes.”

She huffed, but there was no real anger in it.

Across the table, Barth was trying to explain that he did not need help finding anyone, Xavier was pretending to agree while clearly enjoying the reversal, and Vivienne listened with the calm of someone who had survived a private warning from Trafalgar du Morgain and returned to breakfast without spilling a drop of tea.

Trafalgar took a slow drink and decided that, for once, the disaster of the morning could remain someone else’s problem.