SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant Chapter 477: Arrival of Both Families

The tranquil state of the mansion was short-lived.

By the instance Arthur managed to track him down, the atmosphere within the estate had undergone a transformation. A greater number of footsteps echoed through the corridors as servants patrolled with meticulous urgency. The silence that once defined Euclid was now overshadowed by the encroaching presence of various nobles, guards, and attendants. Even before Arthur uttered a word, Trafalgar sensed that the landscape had irrevocably shifted.

Arthur halted a few paces away, bowing his head respectfully. "Young Master." As he looked up, his expression appeared notably more stoic. "Both lineages have arrived. A portion of the guests has already been ushered into the estate, and the remainder are currently being escorted inside."

Trafalgar observed him for a brief moment in silence.

The inevitable had finally begun.

Until this moment, the mansion, the city, and the surrounding territory had felt exclusively his. Everything was prepared, certainly, and changes had been made, but it remained his domain. With the arrival of both great families, that sense of ownership began to dissipate. From this point forward, the estate would no longer serve only his interests; it was now the battleground where House Morgain and House Rosenthal would converge before their fates were sealed through marriage.

He rose from his seat, smoothing the sleeve of his dark attire with a single, fluid gesture. "Let us proceed."

Arthur moved aside immediately, falling into stride beside him as they exited the room.

The distinction between the two houses became more apparent with every hallway they traversed. Servants from the main household navigated the mansion with the efficiency expected of Valttair’s standards—rushing, arranging linens, and inspecting entrances with a keen eye for details that the average person would overlook. Outside, looming through the grand windows, a heightened number of guards stood watch near the pathways and entry gates.

Arthur cast a brief glance toward him as they walked. "The staff dispatched from Lord Valttair’s estate have taken charge of the primary reception logistics."

Trafalgar offered a faint, acknowledging hum. "I noticed."

"They commenced operations earlier today," Arthur noted. "The Rosenthal delegation arrived shortly ago and is being properly accommodated at this moment."

Trafalgar turned his gaze toward the estate’s front entrance.

Even from this vantage point, he felt the heavy tension accumulating beyond the doors. While the ceremony was not until tomorrow, the true burden had arrived with the carriages, escorts, and noble lineages—individuals whose very presence could alter the temperament of an entire territory.

Arthur slowed his pace, walking half a step behind his master. "Everything is proceeding in accordance with your orders."

"It should be."

Upon reaching the grand entrance, the chill wafting from the opened doors brushed against Trafalgar’s face, though its bite was tempered by the formation protecting the estate grounds.

Beyond the threshold, the Rosenthal family had already gathered.

Various servants hovered at a respectful distance as the family was greeted, yet the contrast between them and the Morgains was stark. They carried themselves with the customary noble grace, but there was an unmistakable warmth in their demeanor that was rare in Euclid. Wives stood near their children, and siblings gathered naturally around Aubrelle, the younger members moving with unrestrained curiosity rather than being displayed like lifeless ornaments.

At the center of their group stood Lord Thaleon au Rosenthal.

Tall and broad-shouldered, he possessed brown hair and eyes of a striking red that radiated both influence and warmth. He turned the instant Trafalgar appeared. By his side stood Lady Marie, ever elegant, and Lady Renia, whose expression remained gentle as she doted on Aubrelle and the young twins. Behind them were Idran, watchful and sturdy, and Eldric, whose quieter, sharper gaze surveyed the surroundings. Aubrelle stood with an elegant posture, her pale blindfold secured in place and Pipin perched nearby. The two younger brothers lingered close until noticing Trafalgar’s arrival.

Trafalgar stopped before them and offered an appropriate bow. "Lord Thaleon. Lady Marie. Lady Renia. Welcome to Euclid."

Thaleon scrutinized him for a moment before stepping forward suddenly.

"Trafalgar," he remarked, his voice echoing the same steady resonance that Aubrelle possessed. His expression softened, and before anyone could interject, he gripped Trafalgar’s shoulder and pulled him into a brief, firm embrace.

The nearby servants froze in collective surprise.

"I owe you an apology," Thaleon conceded as he pulled back, his hand remaining on Trafalgar’s shoulder. "When we first met, I failed to grant you my trust. In hindsight, my judgment was harsher than was justified."

Trafalgar blinked, caught off guard, yet he accepted the apology with composed grace. "You had your reasons."

"Regardless," Thaleon’s lips curled into a faint smile. "You proved me wrong."

Behind him, Aubrelle’s face had flushed crimson beneath her blindfold, clearly not anticipating such a display of affection from her father upon their arrival.

Lady Renia shielded a small smile with her hand, and while Lady Marie remained poised, her tension had visibly vanished.

Idran followed, extending a hand to greet him with a firm, steady shake. "It is a pleasure to see you again."

Trafalgar shook his hand. "Likewise."

Eldric moved forward, displaying a reserved yet genuine warmth as he reached out his own hand. "Welcome back," Trafalgar greeted him.

Eldric nodded slightly. "And congratulations on the upcoming union."

Then the twins approached.

Discarding the protocols of noble greetings, the younger boys hurried forward, clinging to Trafalgar’s legs without hesitation, treating the gesture as the most natural act in the world.

The corner of Trafalgar’s mouth twitched upward into a genuine, if slight, smile.

Aubrelle tilted her head, still blushing. "I apologize for them."

"You do not sound particularly sorry," Trafalgar teased, glancing at the children.

Renia let out a soft laugh, and even Idran looked more relaxed. For a fleeting moment beneath the harsh lighting of the Euclid entrance, the weight of the wedding seemed manageable. This was not because the Rosenthals lacked status—they possessed plenty—but because they conducted themselves as a family before acting as a political entity.

Trafalgar turned his gaze to Aubrelle, his tone softening. "Welcome to Euclid."

He gestured toward the inviting interior of the estate. "Please, enter."

The atmosphere shifted drastically when the Morgains arrived.

While the Rosenthals had brought warmth and intimacy, the main family embodied nothing but detachment. Servants stepped out of the way with increased haste. Guards stood at rigid attention. The very air around the foyer seemed to solidify.

In the lead was Valttair, his severe presence enough to force everyone into compliance. He was flanked by his four wives, each radiating a cold, sharp elegance. Helgar stood broad and silent; Rivena wore that familiar, predatory smile Trafalgar had long learned to distrust; and Darion and Elira carried themselves with icy arrogance. Nym was absent, as were others.

Of the group, only Lysandra looked at him with anything resembling human regard rather than duty.

Trafalgar processed these details in a single glance. With the Rosenthals and Aubrelle nearby, he chose to ignore the freezing atmosphere. He had no intention of causing a scene in front of her family.

One by one, the Morgains approached.

Helgar offered a perfunctory nod. Darion’s greeting was hollow. Elira’s eyes roamed the estate with thinly veiled disdain, as if Euclid itself were inferior to the standards of the main house, despite the immense effort invested in the preparations.

Then, Rivena approached him.

As she drew near, Trafalgar slanted his gaze toward her, his voice dropping to a low, private murmur. "You should not have come."

Rivena’s smile widened, amused rather than provoked. "Father insisted on my attendance." She shot him a piercing, venomous look. "There is nothing you can do about that."

She swept past him before he could respond.

Trafalgar remained silent, watching her exit, his expression hardening.

Lysandra was the last to arrive, and notably, she stopped to address him. Her voice was soft, devoid of pretense. "Congratulations, Trafalgar."

He looked at her, and some of the tension departed from his features. "Thank you."

Then, another carriage materialized behind the procession. Anthera, his aunt, stepped out, accompanied by her children. Sylis walked beside her, with Eron and Mael trailing closely. Witnessing their arrival captured Trafalgar’s focus more than any other guest thus far.

Anthera smiled warmly as she stopped before him, placing a hand lightly on his arm. "We could not possibly miss your first wedding, nephew."

He lingered with them far longer than he had with the others, inquiring about their well-being. She responded with ease, and their interaction lacked the suffocating strain that emanated from the rest of the main family.

Anthera’s expression softened further. "Mordrek would have been pleased to see this day."

Trafalgar felt a genuine sense of gratitude for their presence.

All together, both families stood under the same roof.

Finally, with the warmth of the Rosenthals on one side and the biting frost of the Morgains on the other, the reality of tomorrow had arrived.