Chapter 493: Little Celebration [I]

Trafalgar ended up seated between Aubrelle and Mayla.

Aubrelle was on one side with Pipin resting nearby and her cane leaned close enough to reach whenever she wanted it. Mayla was on the other, already more at ease now that everyone had settled properly. The table itself was large enough for conversation to spread without feeling crowded, but small enough that it still felt personal. That alone made the difference clear.

This was nothing like the wedding.

There were no stiff lines of nobles pretending warmth. The people here were talking because they wanted to. Laughing because something had actually been funny. Eating because they were there to enjoy the night, not endure it.

Trafalgar stayed quiet at first, letting his eyes move over the people around them.

Most of the faces were unfamiliar. Friends of Aubrelle’s, people she seemed to know well enough that conversation came easily to her. That caught his attention more than anything else. Aubrelle was speaking with a softness he had seen before, but not often in a group like this. She looked lighter tonight. More like herself in a way the wedding had never allowed.

’It’s good that she can relax.’

After everything that had happened, she deserved at least one evening that did not feel like a transaction dressed as a ceremony.

Mayla noticed his silence after a while and glanced at him. "You’re doing that thing again."

Trafalgar turned slightly. "What thing?"

"The one where you sit there like you’re evaluating the whole room."

The corner of his mouth moved faintly. "Maybe I am."

Mayla smiled. "Try being normal for one evening."

Before he could answer, Aubrelle turned her face slightly toward them through Pipin’s sight. "She has a point."

Trafalgar looked at her. "So both of you decided to start attacking me the moment we sat down."

"It’s not an attack," Aubrelle said, and there was a quiet note of amusement in her voice. "It’s concern."

"That sounds worse."

Mayla laughed softly at that, and even Aubrelle’s lips curved.

That was when Cynthia decided to involve herself.

"I really didn’t expect you to turn out like this, Trafalgar."

Trafalgar shifted his gaze toward her. "Like what? Unique?"

Cynthia looked at him for a second, then let out a small breath through her nose. "That is certainly one word for it. We all knew you had absurd talent. Anyone with eyes could see that much. But this..." She made a faint gesture with her hand, as if the whole of recent events could somehow fit into it. "This is a different thing. Being a genius is one matter. Being whatever you are is another."

Beside her, Bartholomew adjusted his round glasses and nodded quickly in agreement.

Cynthia noticed it and continued, "You passed everyone in first year when it came to force alone. At this point, the strange part would be if you weren’t some ridiculous exception." Her yellow eyes rested on him a moment longer. "Though I suppose we’ll still have to see whether you manage to pass the year properly."

That made the corner of Trafalgar’s mouth move faintly. "So that is what worries you."

"It should worry you too."

Before the conversation could go any further, Trafalgar turned toward Bartholomew. "Barth, I need a favor."

Bartholomew blinked. "A-a favor?"

Trafalgar reached over and caught his hand before the poor boy could retreat into his chair. "You have to help me."

Bartholomew went still at once, visibly thrown by the contact. His face changed so fast that even Xavier glanced over with interest. For a second it looked like Bartholomew might simply shut down where he sat, but after gathering himself with visible effort, he nodded.

"L-leave it to m-me."

Trafalgar released his hand and leaned back. "Good. You’re my savior, Barth. I haven’t had time to handle anything during all of this. Now I can finally relax a little and deal with what I left behind."

Xavier looked at him with open doubt. "Relax? You?"

Trafalgar picked up his glass. "Yes. Apparently they’re going to let me finish the academy in peace for once. It’s probably their way of keeping me out of another large mess."

That caught Xavier’s attention immediately. "That sounds good for me too. It means we’ll get more sparring."

"We will." Trafalgar glanced at him. "You said something similar at the Council. You wanted to show me something."

Xavier smiled slightly. "I still do."

Trafalgar looked at him a moment. "A new Echo?"

Xavier’s smile widened just enough to be irritating. "I’m not telling you. You’ll see when the time comes."

Trafalgar let out a quiet breath through his nose. "So you’re going to be annoying about it."

"Of course."

Zafira, who had been listening in silence until then, took a sip from her drink and said, "For once, I think he’s earned the right."

That made Cynthia glance at her, then at Xavier again. "You must be very proud."

"I am," Xavier said without shame.

After that, Trafalgar looked toward Vivienne.

"By the way, I didn’t introduce her properly. This is Vivienne. She’ll be at the academy with us next year."

That was enough to pull the attention of the table toward her.

Vivienne, who had been sitting a little quieter than the rest until now, lifted her eyes and found several people already looking her way. She held herself well enough, but there was still a trace of hesitation in the way she sat, as if she had not yet decided how much space she was allowed to take among them.

Cynthia was the first to move.

She extended her hand across the table with easy confidence. "Nice to meet you, Vivi. I’m Cynthia." A faint smile touched her mouth. "It’s always good to have someone new around when these people are involved. Otherwise the whole table starts feeling repetitive."

Vivienne blinked once at the straightforwardness of it, then reached out and returned the greeting. "It’s nice to meet you too."

Cynthia’s eyes stayed on her for a second longer, measuring, but not in an unpleasant way.

Beside her, Bartholomew had already gone visibly tense.

He adjusted his round glasses, looked at Vivienne, looked away, then looked back again, clearly trying to find the courage to say something normal and failing each time before a word could leave his mouth.

Cynthia noticed immediately. "And this is my brother, Bartholomew," she said, saving him before he could sink into the table. "As you can see, he’s a little shy, but he’s harmless."

Bartholomew looked mortified. "C-Cynthia..."

Vivienne turned to him properly then, and whatever awkwardness had still been hanging around her softened a little. She gave him a small, gentle smile, the kind meant to make it easier rather than draw more attention to him.

"It’s nice to meet you too, Bartholomew."

That alone was enough to make him sit a little straighter, even if his face had already gone red.

"Y-yes. You t-too."

Across the table, Xavier had gone suspiciously quiet.

Trafalgar noticed it almost at once.

The way his eyes kept drifting back. The way he seemed to be listening to everything Vivienne said with a degree of focus he had not given anyone else’s introduction. The way his expression kept shifting whenever she looked in his direction.

Trafalgar watched him for a second longer, then said, with perfect calm, "Xavier, your drool is about to hit the table."

Xavier reacted instantly.

He raised his sleeve and wiped at the corner of his mouth before his brain caught up with what he was doing. By then it was already too late. Vivienne was looking at him. Cynthia had gone silent. Bartholomew was staring. Even Zafira’s eyes had moved toward him.

Xavier froze.

Then the color rose to his face.

Trafalgar’s mouth curved faintly.

"Don’t lie to me, Trafalgar," Xavier said, trying and failing to recover any dignity. "There was nothing there."

That was what finally broke the table.

Cynthia laughed first. Then Mayla. Even Aubrelle’s lips curved softly beside Trafalgar, and Bartholomew let out a small, helpless sound that was probably meant to stay inside his throat.

Vivienne looked at Xavier for another second, then lowered her eyes with the faintest trace of a smile she clearly had not intended anyone to notice.

The warmth around the table deepened after that, and for the first time since she had entered, she no longer felt like someone sitting on the edge of the group.