Trafalgar woke slowly, the warmth lingering before the light fully settled behind his eyes. For a moment, he didn't move. The bed still carried the heat of the night, the sheets slightly disordered, the air quiet in a way that felt earned rather than empty.
His gaze shifted to the side.
Aubrelle was already awake.
She stood near the mirror, back half-turned to him, adjusting the fabric of her dress while Pipin hovered close, steadying small details with careful precision. Her hair fell loosely over her shoulders, not yet fully arranged, and there was something softer in the way she moved now, something that hadn't been there before.
She noticed him through Pipin first.
"Good morning, Trafalgar. How did you sleep?"
Trafalgar pushed himself up slightly, one hand dragging over his face, eyes still heavy. "Considering you didn't let me sleep much… well enough."
