"I've been better…"
Aubrelle's voice was calm, soft as always—but something in it felt muted. As if a layer of warmth had been carefully folded away and set aside.
Trafalgar noticed it immediately.
This wasn't the Senior Aubrelle he remembered so clearly. The one who was always smiling, always gentle. The kind of person who naturally drew others in—not through authority or power, but through kindness. She had been docile, warm, endlessly patient. Someone who helped without being asked.
Someone who watched over others.
His mind drifted back to his first Council.
He remembered everything clearly. The tension in the air. The weight of unfamiliar eyes. The exhaustion that followed.
He had been awake the entire time.
And Aubrelle had been there. Staying close while he gathered himself. Making sure he was alright without pressing him for words. Offering help where it was needed, space where it wasn't.
That memory lingered longer than it should have.
