The carriage settled into motion with a low hum, the train pulling away smoothly as Velkaris began to slip past the windows. Inside, the first wagon was quiet, insulated from the noise and chaos outside. Plush seats lined the walls, polished surfaces catching the light in muted reflections. It felt almost too spacious for the number of passengers it held.

Only one other pair occupied the carriage.

An elf and a lycan sat together a few rows away, close enough that their shoulders touched, speaking in low voices that occasionally dissolved into soft laughter. They looked comfortable, at ease with each other and with the world around them.

Trafalgar noticed them almost immediately.

Something about the sight struck him as faintly ironic. The two largest families of their respective races were locked in conflict, tensions simmering and spilling blood in places far removed from this quiet carriage. Yet here sat an elf and a lycan, unconcerned, sharing a moment as if none of that mattered.

In the end, it probably didn't.

Wars in this world weren't like nations calling their people to arms. There was no universal banner to rally beneath, no obligation tied to birth alone. Everyone chose their own side, their own path. Most lived within their own small worlds, untouched by the struggles of powerful families unless they were dragged in by force.

The train continued forward, the rhythmic clatter of the rails filling the spaces where conversation might have been.

Trafalgar became aware of the silence between himself and Aubrelle.

It wasn't an uncomfortable silence exactly, but it was heavier than the easy quiet they had shared before. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. She sat upright, hands folded neatly in her lap. Her hood was down now, her blond hair spilling freely around her shoulders, catching the light as the carriage swayed.

'Is she uncomfortable?'

The thought surfaced unbidden. Since the moment he had realized he liked her, something had shifted between them. Not dramatically, not visibly, but enough that he could feel it in the pauses, in the way neither of them seemed quite sure what to say next.

Before, conversation had come naturally.

They talked about food, arguing lightly over flavors and recipes. About the academy, about lessons and instructors, about things that annoyed them and things they enjoyed. Sometimes they talked about nothing in particular at all, words flowing simply because silence had never been necessary.

'I liked that.'

He liked talking to her. He liked how things used to flow without effort, without thought.

'Now everything feels… different.'

As if both of them were standing on unfamiliar ground, unsure where the next step should fall.

Trafalgar leaned back slightly in his seat, listening to the distant murmur of the other couple's voices and the steady rhythm of the train.

'Twenty minutes,' he thought. 'That's all this ride is.'

Enough time for the silence to stretch. Not enough time to escape it.

'Does she feel it too?'

Or was it only him, overthinking something that had yet to truly begin?

The carriage rocked gently as the train picked up speed, carrying them forward, deeper into a moment that neither of them could avoid much longer.

"Trafalgar?"

Her voice cut through the quiet carriage, soft but clear.

Trafalgar looked at her at once. "Yes?"

She didn't answer. For a second, he thought she might change her mind. Instead, she lifted both hands behind her head, fingers moving slowly, as they found the knot of the bandage. The motion was careful, almost ritualistic.

The cloth loosened.

It slid down and fell into her lap.

Her eyes were uncovered.

Trafalgar frowned slightly, caught off guard. He knew she hid them for a reason. He had already seen them before, the scars framing them, the red unfocused gaze that unsettled others. It never unsettled him. If anything, he found something compelling there.

Still, this was different.

"Why did you do that?" he asked quietly. "I thought you didn't want people to see the scar."

Aubrelle said nothing.

Silence spread between them, heavier than before. The elf and the lycan nearby finished laughing, their voices fading as they sensed the shift. Even the sound of the rails seemed to dull, as if the carriage itself were listening.

Then Aubrelle spoke.

"I like you, Trafalgar du Morgain."

The words landed without hesitation, clear and unadorned.

Trafalgar froze.

For a brief moment, his mind went blank.

'…So this is it?'

Was this what Mayla had talked about? Was this what all that tension had been leading toward? His thoughts raced to catch up, fragments colliding. Aubrelle blushing in the past. How close they had grown without him quite noticing. The way people looked at him differently now, old rumors clashing with new ones, his name carrying more weight than it once did.

Aubrelle didn't look away.

Through Pipin's eyes, she watched him carefully, searching his face for any sign of rejection or regret. The small familiar stared openly at Trafalgar, unblinking, far too attentive for the moment.

Trafalgar noticed.

"Hey," he muttered, reaching out to cover Pipin's face with one hand.

Pipin slipped away easily, fluttering upward with a quick beat of wings. He rose to the top of the carriage, where he had a clear view of everything. From there, he saw the other couple leaning closer together, curiosity getting the better of them as they strained to listen.

Aubrelle's face burned.

Her cheeks flushed so deeply it was impossible to miss. She shifted slightly, fingers curling into the fabric of her coat.

"Trafalgar?" she said again, quieter this time. Uncertain.

The carriage was silent.

The silence pressed in on him.

Trafalgar did not answer right away.

His thoughts moved first, cold and instinctive. Aubrelle was SS Talent. Rare. Powerful. The Rosenthal family stood among the strongest houses in the world. An alliance like that was no small thing. It meant leverage. Protection. Options he might one day need to survive what was coming.

'It would be useful,' he thought. 'More than useful.'

The calculation was automatic, almost reflexive.

Then something else followed.

He wanted to survive, yes. That much had never changed. But he was still human, no matter how often he tried to forget it. A future built only on strategy and advantage felt hollow when he pictured it clearly. A path walked alone, without anyone who mattered, without anyone who knew him beyond his name and blood.

'That's not what I want,' he realized.

Goals and affection did not have to cancel each other out. He didn't need to discard one to keep the other.

He looked at Aubrelle.

"I appreciate you," he said quietly.

The words were simple. Honest.

They were enough.

Aubrelle's breath caught. Relief washed over her so suddenly it left her lightheaded. The tension in her shoulders eased, her hands loosening in her lap. A smile formed on her lips before she even realized it,.

They leaned closer without thinking.

Above them, Pipin let out a long, exaggerated sigh.

Then he moved.

The familiar dove suddenly, a blur of feathers and intent, colliding gently but firmly with the back of Trafalgar's head. The push was just enough. Just sudden enough.

Their lips touched.

For a heartbeat, both of them froze.

Then Aubrelle didn't pull away.

She had wanted this. More than she had admitted even to herself. Seeing Mayla earlier, the ease with which she had kissed Trafalgar, had given her courage. If it could be that natural, that simple, then she wanted to try too.

She leaned in, awkward and unsure, the kiss clumsy and inexperienced. It was her first time, and it showed. Too much pressure, then too little. A hesitation that wavered before settling.

Trafalgar responded instinctively, adjusting without thought, meeting her where she was instead of where he might have expected her to be. He didn't rush her. Didn't pull back.

Around them, the carriage was no longer silent.

The elf and the lycan exchanged a glance before quietly celebrating, soft laughter and amused clapping filling the background like distant applause.

Pipin fluttered upward again and closed his eyes.

Aubrelle no longer saw through him.

All she felt was the warmth of the kiss, the closeness, the steady presence in front of her. The world narrowed to that single sensation, lingering longer than either of them had planned.

The train continued forward.

The kiss eventually broke, not abruptly, but slowly, as if both of them needed a moment to remember where they were.

Aubrelle pulled back first, just enough to breathe. Her cheeks were still flushed, her lips parted slightly as she steadied herself. Trafalgar watched her in silence, his expression unreadable, though his shoulders rose and fell with a quiet exhale.

They didn't move away completely. The space between them remained close, intimate, but no longer suspended in that fragile moment.

For a few seconds, neither of them spoke.

The train rattled on. The distant city blurred past the windows.

Trafalgar was the first to break the silence.

"…This might change things," he said quietly.

Aubrelle lifted her head, listening.

"Not directly," he continued, his voice calm but thoughtful. "But indirectly. Politics has a way of reaching places it was never invited to. Especially during a war."

'Especially now,' he thought.

Aubrelle nodded slowly.

"It might," she agreed. "The Rosenthal name isn't light. Even something like this…" She hesitated, then added more firmly, "It could ripple outward."

She looked down at her hands, then back at him.

"I'll have to speak with my father," she said.

The words carried weight, but no regret.

Trafalgar let out a slow breath, leaning back slightly against the seat.

"…And I'll have to speak with mine," he replied.

There was no frustration in his tone. No resistance. Just acceptance.

Two heirs. Two families. Two conversations that could not be avoided.

They shared a brief look after that, something unspoken passing between them. Understanding. Readiness. A quiet acknowledgment that what they had just done mattered, not only to them, but beyond.

Aubrelle smiled faintly.

"Still," she said, softer now, "I don't regret it."

Trafalgar shook his head.

"Neither do I."

The train continued its course toward the academy, carrying more than just passengers this time.

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