Cynthia turned her head slowly.
For a few seconds, she only stared at him. The train kept moving, the window kept carrying Aurevane farther away, and the faint noise from the other compartments continued as if Trafalgar had not just thrown a sentence into the middle of her chest and left it there. Cynthia, however, had gone completely still. Her hand remained on the strap of her bag. Her lips parted slightly, but no answer came out.
Trafalgar watched her reaction with the same calm he had used to say it. Or almost the same calm. He was not as unaffected as he made himself appear, but Cynthia looked so thoroughly struck that teasing her became impossible to resist.
"Do I have something on my face?"
Cynthia did not answer.
