It was the day before the wedding when Trafalgar returned to Euclid.
The moment he stepped out of the Gate, the cold wrapped around him at once, dry and biting. His city stretched ahead beneath the pale light, neat and disciplined, with the streets already shifting around the preparations for tomorrow. Servants moved from one place to another carrying boxes, cloth, and small decorations, while guards kept their routes without letting the increased activity disturb the usual order. Nothing looked neglected. Euclid was functioning exactly as it should.
Arthur was already waiting for him near the main path.
The captain stood straight in his armor, one hand resting behind his back, the other near the sword at his waist. When he saw Trafalgar approach, he bowed his head.
"Young master."
Trafalgar gave him a short nod and stopped in front of him. "Arthur."
Arthur raised his head again. "The preparations are already being handled. Everything is advancing without issue."
