The next morning, Trafalgar stood in the mansion's garden, fully dressed in a formal dark outfit that contrasted sharply with the soft snowfall around him. The cold bit at his cheeks, but he didn't mind—it kept him awake. Focused.
He adjusted the collar of his coat and exhaled, breath turning white in the air.
'Let's see what the hell he wants.'
His eyes drifted toward the distant mountains where the Morgain Castle loomed somewhere beyond the clouds. Today he would be meeting Valttair face-to-face for the first time in three months.
'I've been way too peaceful lately… which is suspicious in itself.'
He shifted his weight slightly, hands slipping into his coat pockets as he continued thinking.
'Students have been disappearing from classes too… not dying, just leaving. Aubrelle, for example. Senior Aubrelle had to return home. Her family is allied with the Sylvanel, so she's probably involved in the war by now.'
A faint frown touched his lips.
