SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant-Chapter 479: The Formal Union [I]

Morning came cold over Euclid.

Inside Trafalgar’s room, that cold barely reached. The mansion had been kept warm since the day before, and now the only thing filling the chamber was the faint rustle of cloth, the quiet sound of metal clasps, and Caelum’s measured breathing as he worked.

Trafalgar stood in front of the tall mirror while Caelum adjusted the dark layers over his frame. The formal clothes were black from neck to hem, with silver details worked in just enough to show rank without turning the whole thing into vanity. The inner layer sat close to the body, the outer one heavier, structured across the shoulders and chest. Gloves rested on the nearby table for now, waiting until the end.

Caelum moved around him with the ease of someone who had done similar things many times before, though never for Trafalgar.

"Young master," Caelum said, smoothing one side of the collar before stepping back half a pace. His yellow eyes narrowed faintly. "Could you stop moving?"

Trafalgar, who had shifted his weight for the third time in a short span, looked at him through the mirror. "Sincerely, I don’t see why you need to help this much."

"Because if I leave you alone with formal attire, you will either wear it wrong or decide one layer is unnecessary."

Trafalgar clicked his tongue softly, but he went still.

Caelum adjusted the black outer coat over his shoulders, straightened the line near his chest, then moved lower to fix the fall of the fabric properly. After that came the gloves, pulled on and aligned with the same care, and finally the collar again.

Trafalgar let him work in silence for a few seconds before speaking.

"Now that we’re alone," he said, his gaze still on the mirror, "is there anything from the Council I should know?"

Caelum’s hands slowed for the briefest moment.

"Yes," he said. "There is one matter worth mentioning." He finished adjusting the sleeve before continuing. "An essence tied to the Primordial bloodline was detected."

Trafalgar said nothing.

The silence that followed was brief, but sharp enough.

So all eight great families knew. Maybe not everything, maybe not the truth behind it, but enough. Enough to understand that something tied to that bloodline had appeared on the battlefield.

Caelum lifted his eyes to the mirror and studied Trafalgar’s reflection. "You do not seem surprised."

Trafalgar met his gaze there, then looked away first.

Caelum did not press immediately. Instead, he reached for the final clasp and fixed it in place with calm fingers. Only then did he say, quieter, "You know you can tell me things, don’t you?" A faint pause followed. "I am more loyal to you than I am to your father. Adoptive father, if you prefer that term when speaking to me."

That made Trafalgar’s expression shift just slightly.

"I appreciate it," he said.

And he did. More than he would say aloud.

Still, he did not answer that subject directly. Instead, he turned the conversation elsewhere.

"How is Darian doing?"

Caelum accepted the turn without resistance. "Quite well. He is fulfilling his role properly." He stepped behind Trafalgar and untied the black hair for a moment so he could gather it again more neatly. "From what I was able to confirm, he also handled himself well in the Council. Better than some expected."

Trafalgar gave a faint hum.

Caelum began tying the hair back into its usual ponytail. "If you wish, I can arrange a meeting with him."

"That would help," Trafalgar said. "But not yet."

"Understood, young master."

Caelum finished the tie, then came around again to examine him from the front. His hands moved one last time over the shoulders and collar, smoothing small imperfections that no one else would have noticed.

Trafalgar exhaled softly. "Anything else I should know before I go out there?"

Caelum’s expression remained composed. "Only this." He folded his hands behind his back. "This is the first wedding of the family that you will actually attend."

That made Trafalgar’s eyes shift back to him.

"You were never permitted to attend your siblings’ ceremonies," Caelum continued. "So you may as well consider this your first experience with such a matter."

Trafalgar’s mouth twitched faintly. "How generous of them."

Caelum ignored that with practiced grace. "In any case, there is little reason for concern. This is a formal union. It exists to seal and display an agreement between two great houses. There will be words, witnesses, symbols, and the necessary protocol. It is closer to a public binding than the sort of sentimental ceremony lesser nobles like to exaggerate."

That, at least, sounded tolerable.

"And knowing you," Caelum added, glancing at him with the faintest trace of dry understanding, "I doubt you would have enjoyed a larger ceremony with your whole family circling around you."

Trafalgar let out a short breath that almost resembled a laugh. "You know me too well."

"I try."

Trafalgar was quiet for a moment after that. Then his face flattened again and he said, "Can you follow one order for me?"

Caelum bowed his head slightly. "Always."

Trafalgar looked at him directly now. "Make sure Rivena doesn’t try anything. I’m asking seriously, Caelum."

That was enough to tell him everything he needed.

Caelum’s eyes sharpened a fraction. "Understood. I will keep her away from anything that matters." His voice stayed smooth, but there was iron under it now. "You can be certain nothing will happen."

Trafalgar held his gaze for a second, then nodded once. "Thanks."

Caelum gave a small inclination of the head and reached up for the last adjustment. His fingers straightened the line of Trafalgar’s black ponytail, then brushed once over the shoulder seam and stepped back.

"There," he said.

Trafalgar looked at himself properly after that.

Black coat. Black gloves. Dark hair tied back. Severe lines. A pretty face to look at.

A little later, Trafalgar stepped into the garden with Caelum walking half a pace behind him.

The place had changed completely. Beneath the warmth spreading from the formation over the estate, the garden looked almost regal, dressed in black and silver from the Morgain side, touched by the gentler refinement the Rosenthal had brought with them. Both houses were already gathered there.

Trafalgar’s eyes moved ahead and landed first on Valttair and Thaleon. The two patriarchs stood near the center, speaking in low voices. In Valttair’s hand rested a sheathed sword. In Thaleon’s, a ring whose stone carried the sealed presence of a summon.

Caelum leaned slightly toward him and spoke quietly. "Those are the formal offerings."

Trafalgar’s eyes remained on them. "The sword is ours." 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

"Yes. House Morgain offers a blade of its line. House Rosenthal offers a summon sealed within a ring."

Trafalgar glanced at him. "And after that?"

Caelum answered at once. "The exchange comes first. Then an Elder of the Council of Sages will speak. After that, the agreement and the vows will formalize the union."

That made Trafalgar’s brows shift faintly. "An Elder is here personally?"

Caelum nodded once. "As expected for two houses of this rank." Then his tone softened by the smallest degree. "It is Lord Armand."

Trafalgar let out a faint breath through his nose.

’Armand. How fitting.’

Caelum straightened. "You should take your place, young master."

Trafalgar stepped forward without another word.

The moment he did, more eyes turned toward him. He ignored them all. He knew how he looked today. The black formal attire, the gloves, the dark ponytail, the severe lines of the coat. Good enough. More than enough.

Then Aubrelle entered.

The sound around the garden lowered almost by itself. Aubrelle walked with Pipin gliding near her, her pale blindfold in place, her dress carrying the quiet grace that seemed to belong to her no matter what she wore. Trafalgar watched her approach and, for a brief second, the rest of the people there mattered less.

She stopped in front of him.

Then Armand stepped forward.

He wore the robes of an Elder, and whatever blood tied him to Trafalgar remained buried beneath office and discipline. His face gave nothing away. His voice, when it came, was steady and formal.

"On this day, under witness of house, oath, and name, House Morgain and House Rosenthal stand before one another to seal a union accepted by both bloodlines."

Silence settled over the garden.

Armand continued. "Let it be recognized that Aubrelle au Rosenthal stands here as the chosen first formal wife of Trafalgar du Morgain."

His gaze shifted slightly.

"And let it be recognized that Trafalgar du Morgain stands here as husband bound by oath to House Rosenthal through her."

Armand raised one hand slightly. "Bring forth the offerings."

Valttair stepped forward first. His expression was unchanged, his posture straight as ever. He held out the sheathed sword with one hand.

"House Morgain offers steel of its blood," he said, his voice cold and grave. "A blade to mark protection, authority, and continuity of name."

Armand accepted the words with a slight nod.

Then Thaleon stepped forward and raised the ring. His voice carried more warmth, though it still held the gravity expected of a man like him.

"House Rosenthal offers a summon sealed in oath," he said. "A symbol of trust, kinship, and binding between our line and yours."

Armand spoke again. "Steel and summon. House and oath. Let both be entered into witness."

The sword and ring were brought forward between Trafalgar and Aubrelle.

Then Armand looked at them both.

"You will now speak your vows."

The words were simple.

Armand turned first toward Trafalgar. "Trafalgar du Morgain. Do you accept Aubrelle au Rosenthal as your first formal wife, and do you swear before witness to uphold this union in name, protection, and standing?"

Trafalgar’s answer came without hesitation. "I do."

Armand then turned toward Aubrelle. "Aubrelle au Rosenthal. Do you accept Trafalgar du Morgain as your husband, and do you swear before witness to uphold this union in name, loyalty, and standing?"

Aubrelle’s voice was soft, but it carried clearly across the garden. "I do."

Armand let the words settle for a breath.

"Then by witness of house, oath, and council, this union stands recognized."

A silence followed after that, fuller than the one before.

For a brief moment, it was only the two of them again.

Aubrelle turned her face slightly toward him. When that gaze rested on him, it still felt direct.

He held it.

Then Armand stepped back, the formal part was done, and the union between House Morgain and House Rosenthal had been sealed before them all.