SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant-Chapter 453: Sylvar’s Funeral [IV]

The two of them kept walking along the wall in silence for a while after that. The night wind struck them from the side with enough force to make their cloaks snap against their legs, and Lysandra’s blond hair had already become impossible to ignore. Several loose strands whipped across her face again and again until she finally clicked her tongue softly and reached up with both hands, gathering it back into a quick ponytail while still walking.

Trafalgar watched her for a second, then looked ahead again. The battlements stretched through the dark like a line carved into the mountain itself, and beyond them there was only mist, black sky, and the distant suggestion of peaks hidden behind the snow.

"Are you ready for the Council?" Lysandra asked.

Trafalgar glanced sideways at her. She continued before he could answer. "It won’t be like the last one, when only the Eight Great Families gathered. This one will be larger. More families, and many people with money and influence close to the Eight."

Trafalgar kept his pace steady, one hand resting inside his coat while the other brushed lightly against the stone of the wall. "Should I be ready? It’s not like something extraordinary is going to happen. They’ll just talk about the war, its end, and confirm Darian as the new head of House Thal’zar."

That made Lysandra turn her head toward him more fully. "Oh? How do you know it will be Darian?"

For a brief second the question caught him slightly off guard. It still was not public, at least not officially. But he did not let that show. "There are rumors about it, aren’t there?" he replied with a small shrug. "So I assume it’ll be him."

Lysandra studied him for a moment longer, then looked ahead again. She did not press. "That’s not what I meant," she said after a few more steps. "I meant you. You’ll be the center of attention there, Trafalgar. It won’t be like last time. You’ll be the main topic in the room."

He understood at once. His talent. The rumors. The war. All of it had already moved too far to be hidden behind silence anymore.

Trafalgar scratched lightly at the back of his neck. "You mean because of my talent? One SSS talent dies, and another appears shortly after. I guess I’ll be in everyone’s mouth, but they can’t do nothing to me."

"As you know, fighting is forbidden in the Council unless it’s a proper duel both sides accept," Lysandra said, her voice steady beneath the wind. "Like what you did with that Vaelion boy. What was his name?"

"Alfons."

"Yes. Alfons au Vaelion." A small smile touched her lips. "You’re the same age, right? Do you run into each other often in class?"

"Not much. He’s a mage and I’m a swordsman." Trafalgar kept walking, his eyes on the dark stretch of wall ahead. "But we do see each other a lot in the dorms. More than I’d like, honestly."

That drew a quiet laugh from Lysandra. "Right. I forgot our families always end up occupying the same areas." Her smile lingered for a second as some old memory crossed her face. "In my time there were many more of us. My generation was crowded. Helgar was there, Maeron too, one course above me, Helgar one below. Ours was a strong generation."

Trafalgar glanced at her. "Really? In ours there are only three. Zafira, Alfons, and me."

"Then that’s better, isn’t it?" Lysandra said. "You don’t have to share the floor with too many people. More privacy."

"You have a point."

The conversation flowed on for a few more steps before Lysandra spoke again, her tone shifting slightly. "And what about your wedding with Aubrelle? How are you with that?"

Trafalgar looked at her with mild confusion. "What do you mean? It’ll happen soon. We have to carry it out to formalize the alliance completely."

"Yes, I know that." Her eyes shifted toward him more directly. "But do you like Aubrelle?"

That made him huff out a small breath through his nose. "Yes. So don’t worry. It’s nothing forced, not like what Father did with some of the other siblings."

The answer seemed to satisfy her, but Trafalgar turned the question back almost immediately. "Now that I think about it... you’re not linked to anyone, right?"

Lysandra’s expression changed only slightly, though a faint edge of irritation crossed her face before she answered. "No. I’m the only one who openly rejected Father on that topic."

Trafalgar raised an eyebrow. "Any specific reason?"

"Nothing dramatic." She brushed a loose strand of hair back again. "I just don’t want to spend my life beside someone I didn’t choose, and I don’t intend to have children because someone else decided I should. He can push the others if they allow it. He won’t do that with me."

Trafalgar kept his gaze ahead for a few steps, then asked, "And your mother? What did she think about that?"

Lysandra let out a quiet breath through her nose, somewhere between amusement and annoyance. "She was furious, of course. But it’s my life. She already has Maeron for all the things she wants. She can leave me out of it."

That made Trafalgar glance at her again. Even after refusing Valttair openly on something as important as marriage, she was still one of the people he trusted most inside the family. And somehow, despite that defiance, Valttair still placed more weight on her than on many of the others. That alone said enough about how little he thought of most of his own children.

The wind rushed harder across the wall, sending fresh snow skittering over the stone beneath their boots.

"Be careful at the Council," Lysandra said after a short silence, her tone changing. "There will be a lot of people trying to get close to you. More than before. Some will want good relations with you because of your talent. Others because they already see you as a real candidate for the future head of House Morgain."

Trafalgar’s mouth curved faintly, though there was no real humor in it. "That is, if nothing happens. There have already been quite a few unfortunate accidents since I awakened my core."

Lysandra said nothing after that. She knew exactly what he meant. Her mother. Rivena. The quiet attempts to remove him before he could become troublesome, and all the moments where she had understood what was happening but had still been unable to stop it.

The silence between them deepened for a while. Snow kept falling, the wind never fully settling, and the two of them continued along the wall until the outline of a watchtower rose ahead through the darkness, tall and square, its upper platform half-hidden by mist and the constant sweep of snow.

Trafalgar slowed slightly as he looked up at it. "There are many of these across the wall. Are they really here to watch for intruders? Isn’t it hard to see anything with all the mist and snow?"

A guard standing near the tower turned toward them at once. "Would you like me to explain, Young Master?"

Trafalgar looked at Lysandra. She gave a small nod. He turned back to the guard. "Go ahead."