Thaleon attention shifted, slowly away from Trafalgar and toward his daughter. Aubrelle sat beside him without the bandage that usually shielded her eyes from the world. The red of her gaze was fully visible now—unfocused, luminous, unhidden. It was not a careless choice. It was intentional, and Thaleon understood that immediately.
For a brief moment, the room seemed to narrow around that single detail.
"Aubrelle," Thaleon said at last, his voice lower than before. Not softer, but more direct. "Look at me."
She turned her head toward him at once. Through Pipin, she felt his eyes on her—steady, searching, heavy with things left unsaid.
"Do you wish to be with Trafalgar du Morgain?" he asked.
The question was simple. Clean. No politics wrapped around it. No pressure disguised as concern. Just the truth, laid bare.
"Yes," Aubrelle answered.
There was no hesitation. No wavering. The word left her lips firm and certain, settling into the room like a stone dropped into still water.
