Trafalgar finally lifted his gaze and looked at Caelum properly.
Even with the uniform, the ash-brown hair, the thinner glasses, and the posture of a perfect train waiter, there was no mistaking him. Caelum had changed just enough that an ordinary person would not question him, but Trafalgar had spent far too much time relying on the man to be fooled by a different face.
"Honestly," Trafalgar said, keeping his voice low, "it surprises me how well you do everything I ask of you. It's almost impressive."
Caelum lowered his head with perfect politeness while placing the first plates on the table.
"Your words honor me, Young Master, but it is my duty."
Trafalgar watched him arrange the food with the hands of someone who could probably serve breakfast, slit a throat, forge a document, and disappear through three sealed doors without changing his breathing.
