SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant Chapter 498: In Good Hands

Trafalgar was seated right in the room's center, with Mayla positioned behind him, comb in one hand and scissors in the other, easing the dark locks forward through careful, expert motions.

"Don’t cut too much."

Mayla offered a smile without pausing her work. "You can relax. You’re in good hands." She passed the comb through his hair once more, steadily and with patience. "Who do you think has been cutting it your whole life? I know exactly how you like it. Long enough to tie it back, short enough that it doesn’t start annoying you every morning."

Trafalgar exhaled softly from his nose. "It sounds like you know me very well."

"I do."

The reply came so straightforward that he made no effort to dispute it.

Moments later, he added, "You mentioned earlier wanting to speak with me alone. Is there something particular?"

Mayla tidied a portion near his shoulder prior to responding. "Not really. I just craved some time alone with you." Her tone remained casual, yet gentler now. "You appear weary, Trafalgar. I figured a bit of rest here would help you." The comb glided through his hair anew. "And hearing you'd finally prioritize the academy made me happy."

Trafalgar raised his gaze a touch. "You don’t want me risking myself again."

The scissors produced their initial crisp snip.

"Do you really need to ask that?" Mayla replied. "Why would I want the most vital person in my world charging into peril whenever trouble strikes?" She pinched another strand between her fingers. "You dislike it too when I’m out of your sight. Especially if danger arises and you’re absent."

Trafalgar attempted to twist his head toward her.

Mayla swiftly steadied it with one hand. "Move and you’ll be bald. Stay put."

A subtle hint of a smile crossed his face. "Fine."

Mayla’s smile grew warmer as she continued. The scissors clicked lightly and accurately.

Seconds passed before Trafalgar spoke. "You’re correct, though. I stumbled into major events during the recent war. Now all eyes are on me."

"And that’s a bad thing?" Mayla inquired.

He pondered it. "Not entirely."

"Then that aspect benefits you," she noted. "Though I’d still rather keep more of you to myself."

Trafalgar eyed her via the mirror, noting the sincere calm in her expression. "That sounds a little possessive."

"It is." She offered no denial. "I see no reason to hide it from you."

That prompted a quiet huff from him, nearly a chuckle.

Mayla’s hands returned to their rhythm. The comb swept through his hair again, trailed by the scissors’ gentle, even snips.

Shortly after, her tone shifted faintly.

"What Rhosyn mentioned earlier... about the Void Creatures. Is that truly possible?"

Trafalgar’s face grew a bit more serious. "Yes."

Mayla observed him in the mirror.

After a short silence, he continued. "In the worst scenario, it strikes within a decade. Best case, we gain a few extra decades. Regardless, it demands the same from me: by then, I must possess the strength to shield you, Aubrelle, and the rest."

Mayla’s movements hesitated briefly.

"The others?" she questioned.

Trafalgar met her gaze in the reflection. "I refer to those who matter deeply to me."

Mayla circled to the front of the chair, positioning herself to even out the bangs properly. She raised the comb, sectioned off some fringe with her fingers, and examined it with her usual focused care.

"I understand your meaning," she said. "Your friends. Those near to you. The ones you’d never abandon." Her eyes met his briefly. "But I grasp fully that certain women might develop feelings for you. We’ve discussed it already."

Trafalgar fell silent.

Mayla caught it and gave a soft smile. "See? Your quiet says plenty."

He tsked lightly. "You make it seem like I’m gathering followers everywhere."

"No." Her fingers repositioned a lock before the scissors snipped once more. "I mean you’re the type others naturally trail, intended or not. It can spark loyalty, respect, or even complications."

Trafalgar held her look a moment more. "And you’re remarkably composed about it."

Mayla’s smile lingered. "I must stay practical to remain at your side. Plus, I know you well." She clipped the final strands over his brow and murmured softer, "You’d never hold anyone close unless they truly count to you."

Moments later, Mayla set down the scissors and retreated a step.

"There. All finished."

Trafalgar passed a hand through his freshly cut hair, checking the feel. It now fell just right, neat for tying back without the prior bulk that had irked him.

"Good," he approved.

Mayla beamed. "Of course it’s good."

He stood from the chair, bent forward, and planted a quick kiss on her lips. "Thanks."

Mayla’s gaze warmed. "No need to thank me for what I’ve always handled."

"Maybe not. Still thanking you."

She chuckled softly while stooping to collect stray clippings from the floor. "Then spend the night here at least. Rest up properly." She peeked up at him. "Tomorrow you resume your calm academy life. Arriving looking rested would be ideal."

Trafalgar nodded briefly. "Fine. I’ll stay."

Mayla smiled privately and grasped the broom.

His words halted her then.

"One more thing."

She glanced back over her shoulder. "What is it?"

Trafalgar remained in place, observing her. This time, he addressed it directly.

"I should’ve asked sooner," he stated. "But I’ll ask now." A short pause ensued. "Mayla, do you want to marry me?"

The broom tumbled from her grip, clattering softly on the floor.

She simply gazed at him.

For one second, then another.

The question had struck home. It merely rendered her speechless.

Trafalgar waited patiently.

Mayla’s lips parted, yet no words emerged. Ultimately, she nodded once, then more decisively, her eyes conveying volumes beyond speech.

That sufficed.

A soft exhale escaped Trafalgar’s nose.

He’d fulfilled the vow.

Aubrelle had urged him to do so, and it was complete. Valttair would learn via Caelum later. He’d face the elder’s views when necessary.

Mayla at last gathered air to whisper, "Yes."

The response arrived belatedly, yet it connected.

Following that, the evening settled into peaceful silence.

They tidied jointly, restored order, and upon retiring, Trafalgar discovered sleep arriving more readily than in ages.

That night, he slumbered deeply for the first time in a while.