Trafalgar stopped walking when he realized Cynthia was no longer beside him. She stood a few steps behind him, one hand near the strap of her bag, her expression carrying the strange strain of someone who had survived ancient secrets, Primordial bloodlines, Void-born material, and dinner with three women who had collectively decided to ruin his composure.
That last part, in Trafalgar's opinion, had been the most unfair.
"What is it?" he asked.
Cynthia pressed her lips together before answering, as if the question itself embarrassed her. "Well, it is not something grand or majestic after everything we just talked about, but… how do we tell Barth?"
Trafalgar stared at her.
