Trafalgar lifted a hand before Aubrelle could continue.
"Wait."
She stopped at once.
He stretched his arms above his head, joints cracking softly, then settled back against the railing of the flying vessel. Below them, the dark ocean slid past like a silent mirror, far enough away to feel unreal. The sky pressed close overhead, wide and endless, the ship gliding through it as if it belonged there.
He exhaled slowly before speaking again.
"Don't you think it was… too simple?" he said at last, eyes still fixed on the horizon. "I get it. A celebration means lowered guards. Drunk soldiers. Complacency." His gaze sharpened slightly. "But this wasn't a duel. Or a raid for prestige. It was a battle in the middle of a war."
He turned his head toward her.
"Wars don't forgive simplicity."
