Chapter 571: Chapter 571: A Place for Silas
Trafalgar answered her after a short pause.
"I don’t know how true that is, to be honest."
Cynthia looked a little surprised by that.
"Hm? You don’t think so?" Her voice softened when she glanced at the sleeping child. "I think you did well with Silas."
Trafalgar turned his head slightly.
"So his na is Silas, hm. It’s not a bad na."
Cynthia nodded. "That’s what we know about him. He arrived not long ago. I ca here a few tis after that, and he was always the sa, just staring out the window. He seed absent, like he didn’t feel comfortable around the others."
Trafalgar looked at her, then at Silas again.
"The boy has had it rough."
Cynthia studied him for a second before asking, "What did he tell you before?"
Trafalgar lowered his eyes to the child lying under the blanket.
"He opened up a little and told
so of what happened to him. It wasn’t easy to hear, even for soone like ." His voice stayed low. "Coming from a kid makes it worse. He’s had a hard life already." A quiet breath left him. "I suppose I identify with him a little."
Cynthia said nothing after that.
She knew enough of the older rumors around Trafalgar to understand what he ant, even if only in part. The academy no longer talked about those old stories much. They had been buried by newer ones, brighter ones, louder ones. But the older version of Trafalgar had existed. Weak and discarded. Treated like sothing lesser inside his own family.
That sort of thing did not disappear just because the world had changed its opinion.
Cynthia remained where she was while Trafalgar sat on the edge of the bed.
"Thank you," she said after a while.
He glanced at her. "For what?"
"For coming today. The children liked you the last ti, and today..." Her eyes moved toward Silas. "You helped him. Maybe now he’ll start opening up to the others too."
Trafalgar did not answer imdiately.
His thoughts were elsewhere now, moving faster than the conversation around him. Silas was the son of a dragon. That much he was already sure of. If that bloodline had truly passed on, then the child had almost certainly awakened his mana core already or would do so very soon. A child like that could beco dangerous without aning to.
And that was the problem.
The children here did not have the money, resources, or instruction needed to awaken and control their cores early. Most of them would not touch mana properly for years. Silas was different. If sothing happened here, even by accident, it would not only be dangerous for him. It would be dangerous for every child in this building.
Trafalgar could not leave him here.
He could not adopt him himself. That was a different matter entirely. Marrying Mayla and Aubrelle was one thing. Taking a child in under his own na was another. On top of that, Valttair would recognize the mana around Silas the mont he spent more than a breath near him.
Then the answer ca to him.
’Arthur.’
Arthur could do it.
Arthur could take the child in, raise him sowhere secure, and keep him in a place where people who understood mana were nearby. Euclid had space. It had trusted hands and soldiers under Trafalgar’s command and a structure strong enough to hide sothing delicate if needed.
And more importantly, Arthur was capable.
’Arthur, you really are useful. Looks like I’ll be squeezing more work out of you.’
He turned to Cynthia.
"Can I get that boy a ho?"
Cynthia blinked.
The question had clearly caught her off guard. "How?"
"I know soone who works for ." Trafalgar’s tone stayed even. "He can give him a ho."
That part, at least, was true.
Cynthia stared at him for a second longer before shaking her head slightly. "It’s not that simple. He has to co here first. There are interviews, checks, docunts. We have to make sure everything is in order and..."
"Don’t worry," Trafalgar said. "Give
a few hours."
Before Cynthia could ask what that even ant, he rose from the bed and stepped away.
He left the room behind him and moved through the orphanage at a pace that made it clear he had already made his decision. By the ti he reached the gate, his mind was running.
A few minutes later, he was already at the Gatehub.
The transfer was quick. The world folded, shifted, and spat him back out in Euclid. From there, he ran.
He crossed the distance to his mansion in seconds.
Arthur was inside.
The man turned the mont Trafalgar entered, and surprise showed on his face at once. "Has sothing happened, Young Master?"
Trafalgar did not waste his ti.
"Yes. I need you to adopt a child."
Arthur’s mouth actually fell open.
"What!?"
"Co with ," Trafalgar said. "I’ll explain on the way."
Arthur did not question him a second ti.
That was one of the reasons Trafalgar relied on him so much. He did not panic first and think later. If Caelum was his right hand, Arthur was the left. Different in thod, no less useful.
The explanation ca while they moved.
Trafalgar did not lie to him. He did not tell Arthur everything, but he told him enough. The child. The unusual bloodline. The danger of leaving him where he was. The need to move carefully. Arthur listened in silence the whole way, his expression growing more serious with each new piece.
By the ti they returned to the orphanage, he understood.
Raising a dragon’s son was not sothing any sane person expected to hear dropped into his lap on an ordinary day. Even so, Arthur also understood what a creature like the Gluttony Dragon had been. The child left behind by that kind of being was not sothing the world would allow to drift unnoticed forever.
Cynthia was outside waiting when Trafalgar returned.
The mont she saw him co back with another man, she straightened. Arthur had that sort of presence. He did not need to speak to give the impression that he could handle more than most people around him.
Trafalgar stopped in front of her.
"I told you to give
a few hours."
Cynthia looked from him to Arthur, clearly trying to understand how soone could leave, return, and bring this kind of answer with him in such a short span.
Arthur inclined his head politely. "Arthur. I was told there is a child here in need of a ho."
Cynthia remained quiet for a mont.
Then she looked back at Trafalgar, and whatever question had been building in her seed to take final form.
He had actually done it.
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