SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant

Euclid had grown more in the last two years than it had in decades.

Trafalgar’s mansion had been expanded and rebuilt in several places. New rooms had been added, the older wings reinforced, and the security around the property had increased considerably. That had become necessary. Far more people lived there now than when Trafalgar first received the territory, and the mansion was no longer simply a large residence waiting for its lord to visit.

The rest of Euclid had changed with it.

Its defenses had been strengthened, its roads and infrastructure improved, and the number of soldiers guarding the city had grown. New buildings had risen beyond the older districts, and the steady movement through the streets below showed that the city was no longer struggling merely to survive.

At that moment, Trafalgar stood in one of the mansion’s gardens, accompanied by Mayla and Cynthia.

Aubrelle was not present. She had been called away to deal with an issue involving her family, though she also lived in Euclid with the others. The three of them had made the mansion their home during the last months, filling rooms that had once remained empty for months at a time.

Silas was playing farther across the garden.

The son of the Gluttony Dragon had grown considerably. He moved between the trees with enough energy to make two nearby guards keep a cautious eye on him, though neither dared tell him to slow down.

A noticeable portion of Trafalgar’s income went directly toward feeding the young dragon.

It was an investment, though an absurdly expensive one.

Silas possessed an ability close to his father’s. Much of what he consumed could be converted into power, which meant ordinary meals were rarely enough. Trafalgar regularly purchased the remains of magical beasts for him, and when suitable prey could not be bought, he went out and hunted it himself.

Caelvyrn had done good work teaching Silas how to control his instincts and his growing strength.

Unfortunately, that help had come with a price.

Trafalgar now owed the ancient dragon a favor, and Caelvyrn had yet to decide what he wanted in return. He had not even offered a hint, which somehow made the debt worse.

Mayla glanced toward Trafalgar.

He had been watching the sky for several minutes, waiting for Alfred’s vessel to appear above Euclid. Today was the day Valttair would finally emerge from his prolonged seclusion and training. Because of that, the members of House Morgain had been ordered to gather at the castle and discuss the future of the family.

”Be careful, Trafalgar,” Mayla said. One hand rested against the curve of her stomach. ”And do not let them look down on you.”

Cynthia nodded beside her, supporting the warning at once.

”Yes. And remember not to give us any reason to worry.” Her gaze moved briefly toward Mayla. ”Stress will not do her any good right now.”

Trafalgar looked at Cynthia first, then at Mayla.

His eyes dropped to Mayla’s stomach, which was now large enough that there was no hiding what was coming. Even after months, the sight could hold his attention longer than almost anything else.

”Do not worry. Everything will be fine,” he said. ”Besides, it has been years since I last visited the castle. I suppose it is time.”

He stepped closer to Mayla and placed a hand gently over her stomach.

”And you,” he said quietly, addressing the child within, ”behave while I am gone. Do not make things harder for your mother.”

Mayla gave him a look. ”I doubt the baby is taking orders yet.”

”It is never too early to establish discipline.”

Cynthia covered a small laugh with her hand.

Before Mayla could answer, Trafalgar lifted his gaze toward the sky once more.

A large shadow had appeared between the clouds.

”Looks like they have finally arrived.”

The vessel swept over Euclid, its six great wings spread across the sky as it descended. Several soldiers on the walls turned to watch it pass, though its arrival had been announced beforehand. A ship of that size was difficult to ignore even when expected.

It crossed above the mansion and lowered itself toward the garden.

The grass bent beneath the force of its descent, branches shuddered, and loose snow scattered away from the landing area. The vessel came down in almost the same place it had used during its previous visit.

A broad bridge unfolded from its side and lowered until it reached the ground.

More than thirty people were aboard, visible through the open sections of the vessel as they worked to control its mechanisms and prepare it for departure again. Only two figures came down the bridge.

The first was Alfred.

The old captain still had the same white hair and purple eyes Trafalgar remembered. His coat moved behind him in the wind created by the vessel, and he carried himself with the same confidence as always.

He looked almost unchanged. But the passing years had added a little more age to his face, though Trafalgar suspected Alfred would deny it even while standing in front of a mirror.

The captain looked around the expanded garden, the larger mansion, and the distant skyline of Euclid.

His gaze finally stopped on Trafalgar.

”Looks like life has been treating you well, brat.”

Trafalgar looked down at him.

”Brat? I am nearly two heads taller than you now, old bones.”

The words struck exactly where Trafalgar intended them to.

Alfred’s expression soured. ”Height does not make you respectable.”

”It certainly makes it harder for you to speak down to me.”

Alfred muttered something under his breath that Trafalgar chose not to hear.

What Trafalgar had said was also true. During the years since they had last seen each other, he had grown more than twelve centimeters, leaving him just short of one meter ninety. His shoulders had broadened, and the remaining softness of adolescence had disappeared from his build.

The second person descending the bridge was his sister.

Lysandra du Morgain, the second heir of House Morgain.

Her appearance had changed more than Alfred’s.

Her platinum-blonde hair was shorter now, ending around her shoulders rather than falling down her back as it once had. The pale strands nearly blended with the snow around the garden, much like her fair skin.

Her eyes remained the feature that drew attention first.

Green and bright, like polished emeralds.

More than two years had passed since Trafalgar had last seen her in person.

Lysandra reached the bottom of the bridge and stopped in front of him. Her gaze moved over his face, shoulders, and height, taking in what those missing years had done.

”You have grown, Traf.”

”So I have been told.”

Her attention shifted behind him, first toward Cynthia and then toward Mayla.

The slight warmth in her expression gave way to surprise when she noticed Mayla’s stomach.

Lysandra approached them.

”It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Lysandra du Morgain, the second heir of House Morgain and Trafalgar’s elder sister.” Her eyes returned to Mayla. ”And congratulations. I did not know.”

Cynthia straightened, visibly more nervous now that she stood before one of Trafalgar’s older sisters.

”It is an honor to meet you, Lady Lysandra. I am Cynthia.”

Her greeting came out formal, perhaps more formal than necessary.

Mayla, who had already met Lysandra before, greeted her with less tension.

”It is good to see you again. And thank you.”

Trafalgar stepped beside them. ”Sorry for not telling you. I did not want the family learning about it until now.”

Lysandra looked at him briefly. She understood enough not to question the decision in front of Mayla and Cynthia.

”You have changed as well,” Trafalgar added.

”Are you talking about my hair?”

His eyes moved toward the shortened strands. ”Mostly.”

Lysandra released a quiet sigh and brushed one side of it behind her ear.

”Several things happened. I will tell you on the way, but we need to leave now. Father will not appreciate us arriving late on the day he finally returns.”

She turned toward Mayla and Cynthia.

”I am taking him with me, but I will make sure nothing happens to him. You can both relax.”

Cynthia looked at Trafalgar before nodding. ”Thank you.”

Mayla rested both hands over her stomach. ”Bring him back without any new injuries.”

”I will try,” Lysandra replied.

Trafalgar leaned down and kissed Mayla, careful not to press against her stomach. He gave Cynthia a kiss next, drawing a little of the tension from her face.

Finally, he lowered himself and pressed a brief kiss against Mayla’s stomach.

”I will see you soon.”

He straightened and gave both women one last look before turning toward the vessel.

Lysandra followed him up the bridge, while Alfred waited near the entrance with his arms crossed.

As Trafalgar stepped onto the vessel, Alfred pointed a warning finger at him.

”Do not make too much of a mess on my ship, you little bastard!”