Chapter 550: Two Conversations
Mayla had just finished carrying the basket of freshly washed clothes into the sitting room when soone knocked at her door.
She wiped her hands lightly on her skirt and crossed the room with the quiet rhythm that had never really left her, even after no longer serving inside House Morgain. The mont she opened the door, surprise gave way to warmth.
Aubrelle stood there with Pipin perched on her shoulder.
She was not wearing the blindfold today. The old scar still marked her face, pale and cruel where the past had carved into her, but it no longer looked like sothing she wished to hide. Her red eyes remained slightly unfocused, fixed nowhere in particular, while Pipin did what he always did, small crimson eyes alert, taking in the room before she ever entered it.
A soft smile appeared on Mayla's face at once.
"Hello, Aubrelle. I wasn't expecting you. You could have sent word first. I would have prepared sothing"
Aubrelle's lips curved faintly.
"Can I co in?"
"Of course. Co in."
Mayla stepped aside. Aubrelle entered with asured steps, Pipin turning his small head here and there as if inspecting the room on her behalf. The basket of clothes, folded linens, and half-finished housework made the state of the apartnt obvious enough.
Aubrelle tilted her head slightly.
"Did I co at a bad ti?"
Mayla shook her head.
"Not at all. I had a few things to do around the house, that's all. You're not disturbing anything. You're always welco here."
That seed to ease sothing in Aubrelle. She walked farther in, found the sofa with Pipin's subtle guidance, and sat down with the quiet grace that never really left her no matter the setting.
"It's a relief to hear that," Aubrelle said. "I thought I might be intruding"
Mayla carried the basket to one side and sat across from her.
"Is there any particular reason you ca?"
Aubrelle's fingers brushed lightly over Pipin's feathers before she answered.
"No special reason, not really. I just thought we could spend so ti together." Her tone softened with a hint of amusent. "We share the sa man. I suppose that makes us family, doesn't it?"
Mayla smiled at that.
"Yes. I suppose it does."
For a brief instant, the room settled into a quiet that felt easy rather than awkward. Outside, the city moved at its usual pace. Inside, there was only the low dostic warmth of the apartnt and two won who no longer needed to pretend there was distance between them.
Mayla spoke first.
"By the way, what has Trafalgar been doing lately? He sends
ssages every day with that item he gave , but he always sounds busy."
Aubrelle nodded.
"You said it yourself. He's been going from one thing to another without much rest." The faint smile on her lips remained. "Though, as usual, he keeps so things to himself. I imagine he'll tell us later, when he decides the timing suits him."
Mayla let out a small breath through her nose, not quite laughter.
"I'm not worried. It's Trafalgar. Even when he hides things, he usually does it because he thinks it will spare soone trouble." A pause followed. "I heard classes ended for now."
"Yes," Aubrelle said. "I'll be entering my third year, and Trafalgar will begin his second." She leaned back slightly. "Though perhaps he didn't tell you this either. He finished as the best student of the entire first year."
Mayla blinked.
"He didn't ntion that in any ssage."
Aubrelle's mouth curved more clearly this ti.
"That sounds like him. He probably doesn't think it deserves much attention."
"Maybe he doesn't," Mayla said, "but it's still incredible."
Aubrelle lowered her head a fraction.
"It is. I only finished third."
Mayla's brows softened.
"Third is still amazing"
"Under normal circumstances, perhaps." Aubrelle's voice stayed calm, but there was honesty in it. "But after everything that happened, my mind was not where it should have been. The written exams suffered for it. That was enough to
push
down."
Mayla did not offer empty comfort. She understood Aubrelle too well for that. Instead she said, "Even so, you're here. You kept moving. That counts for more
than a ranking."
Aubrelle fell quiet at that.
The conversation drifted naturally after that, moving through smaller things. The kind of things people only shared once there was trust enough to stop guarding every word. They spoke about the Academy, about little routines, about ssages Trafalgar sent and the ones he did not, about the city, about what each of them wanted to do once there was ti to breathe properly
again.
Eventually, Aubrelle's tone shifted.
"There's sothing I've wondered for a while."
Mayla folded one of the shirts in her lap and glanced up.
"What is it?"
Aubrelle let her hand rest over Pipin's back.
"What do you think would happen... if there were more in the future?"
Mayla understood imdiately.
The question did not surprise her. Trafalgar was not an ordinary man living an ordinary life. Nothing around him remained small for long.
She gave Aubrelle an honest answer.
"Trafalgar isn't soone who would fall for just any girl. I think you know that already." Her voice remained gentle, though the certainty in it did not waver. "For soone to stand at his side, she would have to be important to him. Not a whim or so passing interest. Soone woven into his life deeply enough
that he couldn't ignore it."
Aubrelle listened without interrupting.
Mayla continued, slower now.
"I think we are both that for him, even if he doesn't always say it plainly. He has probably already done things for us that we don't fully know about. And he'll likely do things in the future we can't even imagine yet."
Aubrelle's fingers paused over Pipin's feathers.
She knew that was true. Trafalgar had already changed the shape of both their lives in ways that would have sounded impossible not so long ago.
Mayla lowered the folded shirt onto the basket.
"This may be selfish of ," she said, "but I think we should support him. And if,
soday, soone else appears who becos that important to him, then perhaps we should be there for her as well. If she truly reaches his heart,
fighting it out of pride won't make anything better."
Aubrelle absorbed that in silence before changing direction slightly, as if the
seriousness of the topic had stirred another thought in her.
"By the way" she said, "don't you want children?"
That caught Mayla off guard enough that she actually laughed.
"Of course I do."
Aubrelle tilted her head.
"Then how many?"
Mayla's expression turned far too innocent.
"That depends on Trafalgar's vigor when the ti cos, doesn't it?"
Aubrelle flushed so fast it almost looked painful.
Mayla could not help it. She laughed again, softer this ti, genuinely amused
by how unprepared Aubrelle had been for that answer.
Pipin gave a tiny chirp that only made Aubrelle redder.
Far from Velkaris, in a castle that by all rights should have been dark and
severe, Zafira du Zar'khael stood with her father beneath high pale arches washed in white light.
The place should have reflected the old image of demon nobility, black stone,
oppressive halls, and sothing infernal in every corner. Instead, the Zar'khael stronghold rose in white and silver, elegant rather than grim, with broad balconies, polished floors, and windows that opened the horizon instead of contrast never stopped surprising outs the first ti
swallowing
they saw it.
Zafira stood near the arrival court with Malakar before her, the mont of departure already close enough to feel.
"The next ti you return," Malakar said, "I'll take you to see the mines myself. You should see what they've beco. In the end, the agreent with the Morgains was worth it. At this rate, we'll recover the original investnt sooner
than expected."
Zafira's curiosity sharpened. "They're generating that much?"
"And more," Malakar replied. "The place turned out to be a maze of untouched
tunnels. Every ti they think they've mapped it properly, another path opens up and soone finds more." A trace of satisfaction entered his voice. "If not for that prodigy son of Valttair's, we never would have uncovered it like this."
"You an Trafalgar."
"Yes, Trafalgar."
Malakar's expression shifted into sothing thoughtful.
"I'll admit it, I was surprised he survived that fall back then. He didn't seem like
anyone special at the ti." He let out a low breath. "Now I understand why that bastard Valttair took an interest in him the way he did. Hiding a talent like that inside his own house..." He clicked his tongue. "Typical."
At the ntion of Trafalgar, sothing small changed in Zafira's face.
It was brief. So brief that most people would have missed it. Malakar did not. His daughter was about to leave. She would soon be traveling
with Trafalgar to Mariven Port. A father who ruled one of the Eight Great
Houses did not survive long by missing details like that.
He watched her for a mont before speaking again. "Get along with him, daughter. That boy will likely beco the future of House
Morgain. With that talent, the day may co when he surpasses both Valttair and ." His voice stayed even. "We may stand among the Eight Great Houses and carry rivalries older than most kingdoms, but only fools refuse to see what
is in front of them."
Zafira answered without lowering herself into softness.
"I rember you saying he wasn't our problem when he fell."
Malakar t that directly.
"He wasn't. And he never will be." His tone remained firm. "He is a Morgain.
That part does not change." He paused. "But that day could have turned uglier than it did. I had no desire to watch things escalate into the kind of war we just saw between the Thal'zar and the Sylvanel." A faint coldness crossed his features. "Though, in pure military strength, our house would likely stand above them."
A transport carriage touched down not far from them, polished and quiet,
ready to take Zafira to the nearest Gate.
Malakar glanced toward it.
"It's ti."
Zafira stepped forward and embraced him.
He returned it without hesitation. For all the strength in him, for all the weight
of his title, there was nothing performative in that brief mont. He was simply
her father. When she pulled away, she said nothing unnecessary. Neither did he.
She boarded the transport, and monts later it departed. Malakar remained where he was, watching until it passed beyond the outer line
of the estate. Only after it had truly gone did he turn away and return to his work, once again one of the eight most important people in the world.
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