SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant

By the time they arrived at Andrew’s mansion, the noise from the port had faded into something distant.

The room he received them in looked almost exactly the same as the last time Trafalgar had stepped inside. The same broad sofas. The same table between them. The same expensive ornaments placed with the kind of care meant to make the room feel grander than it truly was. Nothing had changed there.

Andrew had.

Trafalgar noticed that before he even sat down.

A maid entered with tea and placed the cups down carefully, one after another, trying not to linger longer than necessary in the presence of her lord’s guests. Trafalgar thanked her with a small nod before picking up the cup. Zafira did the same, quiet as ever beside him, her hood lowered now that they were indoors. Trafalgar began without wasting time.

”How is your son, Andrew? Is Leon doing well? What is he doing now? I did not see him this time, not in the mansion or anywhere else.”

Andrew, seated on the opposite sofa, adjusted himself before answering.

”He has been training for the neutral force of the Council of Sages.”

That drew a faint change in Trafalgar’s expression.

”I see. I hope he learned how to behave after last time.”

Andrew swallowed.

He had learned too.

That much was obvious to him every time Trafalgar spoke in that calm way of his. The last meeting had left a mark on Leon, but it had also done something to Andrew himself. Back then, he had been reminded of a truth that men in

positions like his sometimes forgot after too many years giving orders inside their own territory.

There was always someone above.

And in his case, the one who had reminded him of that had been Trafalgar du Morgain.

Which made tonight even worse.

Because Trafalgar had not come alone.

Beside him sat Zafira du Zar’khael.

Andrew had already seen from the rooftop that the girl with Trafalgar was no ordinary companion, but the room made the difference clearer. Her skin was pale, almost porcelain beneath the soft light of the chamber. Two black horns curved from her forehead with a quiet sort of elegance that made them more unsettling instead of less. Long purple hair flowed behind her in loose waves, and her greyish eyes carried the kind of cold poise Andrew did not want turned in his direction for long.

He swallowed again.

Two heirs of the Eight Great Families sitting together in his mansion was the kind of thing a man remembered for the rest of his life. He did not know why they were together, and he had no desire to pry into that matter. Curiosity could be dangerous when nobles like these were involved.

Even so, one thing overruled caution.

Whatever had happened tonight had happened in Mariven Port.

His territory.

That gave him no choice.

He gathered himself and spoke while Trafalgar was still lifting his cup.

”Lord Trafalgar du Morgain, I would like to know what happened there. As you can understand, this concerns my territory, so as its lord, I must know.”

His voice wavered slightly near the end. He hated that it did, but there was little use denying the truth. Sitting across from one heir of a Great Family was already enough to make a smaller lord tread carefully. Sitting across from two at once was another matter entirely.

Trafalgar did not make him wait long.

”Do you remember Augusto?”

Andrew nodded at once.

”Of course.”

”The last time we met, we agreed on something regarding him.” Trafalgar placed the cup back down with measured care. ”I will not go around in circles. There was an assassin after me. Thanks to Zafira, we noticed him in time and dealt with him.” His mouth flattened slightly. ”Though you already saw how it ended.”

Andrew’s stomach tightened.

An assassination attempt in his city was already bad. An assassination attempt against an heir of one of the Eight Great Families was far worse. The kind of thing that could poison years if handled badly.

He could already imagine the rumors if this spread wrong.

Andrew allowed it, failed to stop it and Andrew arranged it.

All false.

A drop of sweat slid down the side of his face. He resisted the urge to wipe it

immediately.

Trafalgar spoke again.

”I would like to apologize for the damage.”

Andrew answered so fast the words almost collided with each other.

”Please, do not worry about that.”

Trafalgar studied him for a brief instant, not pressing, not smiling, simply continuing.

”We do not want to cause you problems. Both of us had our hoods on. No one knows who we were, so you do not need to worry about our families. There will be no repercussions and no misunderstanding.” He leaned back slightly.

”You understand what I mean.”

Andrew understood perfectly.

Keep this contained.

Not just the assassination attempt. The identities involved. The rooftop. The blast. The entire chain of events. Fewer mouths meant fewer versions, and

fewer versions meant fewer disasters later.

Before he could answer, Zafira spoke.

Andrew straightened without meaning to.

This was the first time he had heard her voice since entering the mansion, and

that alone made the room feel different.

”Do not worry,” she said. ”The Zar’khael family will not take action over this, just as Trafalgar said. What happened tonight was completely separate from your family. It has nothing to do with your house, so you may rest easy.”

Andrew felt genuine relief this time.

Not enough to make him careless. He was not that stupid. But enough to let his shoulders ease a little. Enough that his thoughts stopped stumbling over fear

and returned to something useful.

He lowered his head slightly.

”You have my gratitude, Lady Zafira.”

For the first time since the rooftop, Andrew managed to breathe like a man

sitting inside his own home instead of a man being measured for a coffin. His pulse remained uncomfortably quick, but his mind had begun working again, and with that came something else.

A rumor. A string of reports he had not thought much about at first because Mariven Port was always full of strange little movements, shady deals, and people who preferred to be seen only when necessary. But now, with Trafalgar sitting across from him and the night’s events hanging between them, those

small reports no longer felt separate.

Andrew frowned.

”Now that I think about it...” he muttered.

Trafalgar picked up on it at once.

”What is it?”

Andrew rubbed one hand across his jaw before speaking.

”I have heard that some strange things have been happening near the shop of

that lycan, Augusto.”

That caught Trafalgar’s full attention.

The shift was small, but Andrew noticed it anyway. Curiosity had surfaced,

clean and direct, the way it always seemed to with Trafalgar. Not exaggerated

or theatrical. The young Morgain heir simply became harder to distract once something interested him.

Trafalgar picked up his tea again, though he did not drink this time.

”Could you tell me what those rumors say?”

Andrew nodded slowly.

”I can. They did not seem important at first, but after tonight...” He exhaled

through his nose. ”I would rather not dismiss anything too quickly.”

Trafalgar’s voice remained even. ”Good. Start from the beginning”