SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant Chapter 839: Old Faces

Marella came out of the back before Lyren arrived, and Trafalgar noticed the years on her straight away. She'd gone thinner, and her hair had turned fully grey, pulled back into a low bun the way she'd always worn it. Her light brown eyes were the same though, and so was the smile she gave him when she came around the counter, the smile of a grandmother who hasn't seen you in far too long and has been quietly hoping you'd turn up.

"Trafalgar." She said his name like she was checking he was real. "It has been such a long time. You should come by more often, you know. We're not strangers here."

"I know. I'm sorry about that." He meant it. "I've been busy the last while. There's barely time for anything these days, honestly."

Marella let out a sigh that had no real complaint in it. "Well, there's nothing I can do about that if you're busy. You're a Morgain, after all." She looked him over the way old women do. "How have you been, then? Whenever we ask Garrika about you, she tells us nothing at all."

"Ah. That." Trafalgar rubbed the back of his neck. "We haven't seen each other in a while either, to be fair."

That got her attention. "Don't tell me the two of you have fallen out. Has something happened? Did Garrika do something?"

"No, nothing like that. Don't worry." He waved it off. "A few things happened, that's all. I've been occupied with my own business and she's been occupied with hers. We'll see each other again later on."

He left it there, because the rest of it was not his to hand over. He'd made Garrika a promise before she went, that he'd wait until she was ready and come looking for him herself, and that promise was hers to keep or break. Marella didn't need to be carrying it.

"So how is it going?" she asked. "Your own business, whatever it is these days."

"Well enough. I finished the Academy." He considered how to put the rest and decided there was no clever way. "And I've become a father."

Marella stopped where she stood, and Arden, halfway through relighting his cigar, took it out of his mouth. "You've what?"

"You never said a word about that!" Marella came the rest of the way toward him with both hands up. "Not one word. How are you? How old is he? Or she?"

"He. A few days old, that's all." Trafalgar found himself smiling despite everything. "His name's Aaron. He's healthy. He came early, so it was a rough few nights, and it worried me a great deal more than I expected it to. He's doing well now. Thank you for asking."

"A few days." Marella pressed a hand flat against her chest. "And you're here in Velkaris instead of sitting next to him."

"That's what my wife said as well."

"Then your wife is a sensible woman."

Arden was still looking at him with an expression halfway between amusement and disbelief. "I always figured you'd end up with a few women hanging off you, you being what you are. I never once thought you'd want to be a father this early." He gestured with the cigar. "You're what, twenty now? You finished the Academy, so you must be."

"Closer to twenty than nineteen, yes."

"Twenty." Arden shook his head. "God help us all."

"It doesn't surprise me at all, honestly," Marella said, and there was something knowing in the way she said it. "You've always taken care of the people you decided were yours." She paused, and her voice shifted a little. "I do hope Garrika is one of them. She talks about you often, you know, even though the two of you never see each other. She's always curious about how you're doing."

"I could say exactly the same about her." Trafalgar leaned back against the edge of a table. "How is she?"

"She's well." Marella's face brightened. "She's caught up in something large at the moment, from what little she tells us. That group of hers, the one the Council put together." She waved a hand at the size of it. "She's grown strong. She's grown up, more to the point, which surprised me more than the strength did. Though she's still our girl when she's under this roof, whatever anyone calls her out there."

"That sounds like her."

"It's exactly like her."

The door opened behind him, and Trafalgar knew who it was before he turned. There was a change in the room, small and quiet, like standing near deep water.

Lyren di Myrrhvale came in and stopped a few steps inside the door. He was tall, and the last few years had sat well on him, taking whatever had been left of the student out of him. His hair carried that faint sea-green shimmer under the mana lights, and his skin held its subtle pearl sheen, the look of sunlight lying on water that isn't moving. He was human enough to pass in any street in Velkaris. He carried something under that anyway, fluid and balanced and a great deal deeper than it looked.

Trafalgar turned to Marella and Arden. "Nobody comes in. I mean that. This is the business I came for." He glanced at Arden. "Not Ronan either nor Sylven."

Arden's humour dropped away. "Understood."

Marella gave a short nod and went back through to the rear of the building without another word, taking Arden with her by the elbow before he could decide he wanted to linger.

Lyren waited until the door had closed behind them, and then he crossed the floor with that steady, unhurried carriage he'd always had, the one that came from being born into a house that had never once had to hurry.

"Trafalgar du Morgain." He inclined his head. "Thank you for agreeing to meet me."

"Lyren di Myrrhvale." Trafalgar met him halfway. "It's been a long time since that Council. Years, I'd say."

"It certainly has been."

Lyren put out his hand, and Trafalgar took it. The grip was firm, and cool, and a little smoother than a human hand had any right to be.

"Sit, please." Trafalgar gestured at the chairs by the far wall, well away from the windows and the door both. "You sounded serious when the message reached me. That's why I'm here rather than somewhere else."

"Thank you."

Lyren sat, and arranged himself, and for a moment he didn't say anything at all.