The important conversation finally reached its end, though the room did not know how to return to normal at once.
Trafalgar stayed where he was, watching Mayla, Aubrelle, and Cynthia without being able to read everything passing behind their faces. That was rare enough to bother him. He could understand enemies when they reached for knives, nobles when they shaped insults into etiquette, monsters when they lunged, and even Caelum when the man decided to behave like a particularly well-dressed nightmare. But this was different. These three were quiet because he had given them too much truth, and now he had to wait for whatever they decided to do with it.
'Will this be all right?' he thought, though the question irritated him the instant it formed.
