Chapter 228: Polite Mask

"Trafalgar du Morgain, Zafira du Zar’khael," Lyren said with a practiced smile as they entered.He rose from an elegant chair, the soft glow of the room reflecting off the silver threads in his ceremonial jacket. His expression was warm, confident, almost disarmingly polite.

"Welcome to my home. It’s an honor to receive two heirs of the Eight Great Families under one roof."

Zafira offered a courteous nod, her voice even. "The honor is ours, Lyren. Lirantis is as beautiful as ever."

Trafalgar gave a short bow of his head, his tone neutral. "You seem to have an impressive place."

Lyren chuckled lightly. "One must maintain appearances. Please, sit — the tea should arrive shortly."

He gestured toward a low table surrounded by cushioned chairs of pearl-white fabric. The faint blue light filtering through the glass ceiling cast gentle ripples across their faces.

As they sat, Trafalgar leaned back slightly, watching the Myrrhvale heir with quiet curiosity. A man trained from birth to look harmless while thinking five steps ahead.

Lyren leaned back slightly in his seat, his tone lighter now. "I imagine the accommodations are treating you well?"

Trafalgar couldn’t help a short laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah... let’s just say it was a lively."

Zafira raised an eyebrow, amused. "Lively?"

Lyren looked curious too. "Something happen?"

Trafalgar waved a hand casually. "Nothing serious. Just a minor disagreement over who got which bed."

Zafira smiled faintly. "Ah. Sounds like your usual kind of chaos."

"You have no idea," Trafalgar muttered with a small grin, leaning back in his chair.

Lyren chuckled. "I see. Well, I hope the conflict was resolved without casualties."

"Barely," Trafalgar said dryly.

The tension that had hung in the air when they entered eased slightly, replaced by a more casual tone. Lyren’s practiced charm became less stiff, and Zafira seemed to relax as well, though her posture remained elegant as always.

"Well," Lyren said, glancing toward the doors, "I’m glad to hear you’re comfortable. Myrrhvale takes pride in its hospitality — and I’d rather not have rumors spreading that our guests were forced to duel for their beds."

That earned a quiet laugh from both Trafalgar and Zafira.

"Don’t worry," Trafalgar replied, smirking. "If anyone asks, I’ll say it was all under control."

Lyren smiled in return, a polite curve of the lips that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Good. Then let’s enjoy the evening properly."

The doors opened just then, the soft sound of footsteps echoing as the tea arrived.

The scent of fresh tea drifted in before the tray even reached the table.

When Trafalgar glanced up, his faint smirk vanished.

The maid carrying the silver tray was the same little girl who’d run into them earlier — the one the half-sirena man had struck. Now, she was clean and properly dressed in a pale-blue uniform that matched the décor of the mansion. Her hair was neatly brushed, but her eyes were red-rimmed, the kind that spoke of someone told not to cry again.

She approached with small, careful steps, keeping her head bowed.

"L-Lord Lyren, the tea," she murmured.

"Set it down," Lyren said casually, not even looking at her.

The girl obeyed, her hands trembling slightly as she poured into each porcelain cup. A drop nearly spilled, but she steadied herself at the last second.

Zafira’s fingers tightened around her knee beneath the table. It’s her.

Trafalgar noticed the same thing — the bruised cheek barely hidden under her hair. He didn’t move, just watched silently.

Once the cups were filled, the girl stepped back and bowed deeply. "I... I apologize for earlier, my lords. For causing trouble on the street."

Lyren’s tone was mild, but his words cut clean. "You’ll be disciplined later. Learn to do your duties without creating scenes."

The words hung in the air like cold water.

Zafira finally exhaled through her nose. "She’s just a child," she said quietly, her voice steady but sharp. "That hardly seems worth punishing."

Lyren’s gaze shifted toward her, still perfectly composed. "Perhaps. But in Myrrhvale, discipline keeps order. You’ll find our customs differ from those of the surface."

Zafira’s jaw tightened, but she said nothing more.

Across the table, Trafalgar didn’t intervene — he just took a slow sip of his tea, his expression unreadable. He’d already warned her not to get involved in what wasn’t their business, and now he simply watched the exchange in silence.


The maid bowed again, whispering a trembling, "Th-thank you, my lord," before leaving the room.

Lyren broke the silence first, his tone effortlessly smooth. "My apologies," he said, swirling his tea as though nothing had happened. "I didn’t mean to sour the atmosphere. Servants here tend to overstep their place now and then — they’re still learning."

Zafira’s gaze lingered on the door where the girl had left, her expression composed but distant. "I see."

Lyren smiled faintly. "Please, don’t let it bother you. I assure you, Myrrhvale treats those under its care quite well — we just have... stricter expectations."

Trafalgar gave a small shrug, leaning back in his chair. "Doesn’t concern me," he said plainly. "You run things how you like. I’m just here for the trip."

Lyren let out a quiet chuckle. "Direct, Trafalgar. I respect that."

He set his cup down and shifted the conversation seamlessly. "Speaking of the trip — I imagine you’re both aware of what awaits tomorrow. The ruins we’ll be visiting are unlike anything else in recorded history. They were discovered only a few months ago, and much of what we know so far comes from Professor Rhaldrin’s research."

Zafira leaned forward slightly, intrigued. "Ruins tied to the Primordial Bloodline?"

Lyren nodded, a faint gleam of pride in his eyes. "Exactly. They’re believed to be connected to one of the earliest manifestations of that lineage — the strongest of all. Our family and the Academy worked closely together to secure the site and ensure it was safe for study. Professor Rhaldrin’s findings helped confirm that the energy signatures match the descriptions in old Myrrhvale records."

Trafalgar tilted his head, pretending to sound casual. "And now you’re letting a bunch of first-years walk into something like that?"

Lyren smiled easily. "Under supervision, of course. The sealed chambers are still closed — for safety. But even the outer sections hold historical value. Consider it... an educational opportunity. It’s a win-win scenario, my family wins something and so does the academy."

Zafira took another sip of tea, her tone mild. "Educational for some, profitable for others."

Lyren chuckled softly. "Perhaps both."

Trafalgar watched him for a moment, eyes narrowing just slightly. ’I really hope to find something useful.’

Lyren leaned back comfortably, the edge of his cup catching the dim blue light. "Tomorrow’s schedule will be fairly simple," he said. "The Academy staff will handle the transport, and we’ll enter the site in small groups. You’ll have guides and protective wards active at all times."

Zafira nodded politely. "Sounds organized enough."

"Of course," Lyren continued smoothly. "We can’t risk a single incident — not with students from so many important families present." His eyes lingered momentarily on both of them before he smiled again. "Still, I imagine the two of you can handle yourselves."

Trafalgar smirked faintly. "We’ll manage."

Lyren poured himself another cup of tea. "As for the day after tomorrow," he said casually, "you should try visiting the upper rings of the city. There’s a fine lounge across the coral bridge that serves deep-sea wine — a local favorite. Consider it a recommendation, not an obligation."

Zafira smiled politely. "We’ll keep it in mind."

Trafalgar leaned back slightly, relieved that the suggestion wasn’t for tonight. ’At least I get a break,’ he thought, exhaling quietly.

Lyren’s tone remained pleasant, effortless. "You’ll have time after the excavation to enjoy yourselves. It would be a shame to visit Lirantis and not experience its better side."

"Noted," Trafalgar replied. "We’ll see how things go."

The conversation drifted to lighter topics — academy news, bits of culture, and harmless anecdotes. Zafira offered polite responses, her composure steady, while Trafalgar mostly listened, observing Lyren’s every word.

When they finally stood to leave, Lyren accompanied them to the door. "Rest well," he said, that faintly formal smile still in place. "Tomorrow’s work will keep everyone busy, but the real wonders come after."

Zafira inclined her head. "We’ll be ready."

Trafalgar met his eyes briefly before turning away. ’The real wonders, huh?’ he thought. ’That’s one way to keep us curious.’