The garden of the Morgain estate stretched before Trafalgar, a field of white broken only by the jagged black statues that lined the entrance.
He stepped down first, boots crunching into the snow. Behind him, he glanced over his shoulder—Caelum was gone. Not a trace of his presence lingered.
'Normal, I guess. Technically, only Valttair, the elders, and the wives are supposed to know of his existence. That's what he told me. I'll just have to trust him. He's helped me enough already. Still… my priority is clear. Mayla. I need to see her first.'
A rough laugh pulled him from his thoughts. Alfred leaned against the ramp, one hand on his captain's hat. "The rat returns to its cage."
Trafalgar smirked despite himself. "Hope you survive a few more days, old man. Don't let your bones freeze out here."
Alfred clicked his tongue, bristling instantly. "Not that old! These bones could outlast yours in a storm any day, boy."
