Chapter 622: Chapter 622: The Contact Arrives
The next morning, Trafalgar waited with Selara in a place she had clearly chosen because privacy cost enough money to discourage interruptions.
It was one of Aurevane’s higher-end cafés, tucked along a raised terrace that overlooked one of the city’s quieter avenues. The tables were spaced far apart, the waiters moved as if trained to vanish between orders, and even the cups had that expensive thinness that made every sip feel like it had passed through a committee. Nothing new for Trafalgar, exactly, but Aurevane had a talent for making wealth look like a civic philosophy.
Trafalgar had ordered coffee. He had not drunk it in a long while, and the bitterness struck him harder than expected on the first sip. Not bad. Dense, dark, a little aggressive. The sort of drink that felt less like breakfast and more like being warned.
Selara, on the other hand, had used the meeting as an excuse to order a full meal. Pastries, fruit, tea, and something covered in cream that would probably qualify as irresponsible in three different Academy departments. She had eaten half of it already, though from the way her fingers moved against the cup, her mind was elsewhere.
Caelum’s message from the previous night sat between them without being spoken aloud.
He had contacted Trafalgar through the Shadowlink Echo, saying that he had found interesting information and wanted to share it as soon as possible. That was why they were here now, waiting in a reserved corner while Aurevane pretended around them that mornings were harmless.
Trafalgar turned the coffee cup slowly between his fingers. "What did you do yesterday, Director Selara? You disappeared after the morning, and I assume you weren’t simply enjoying the city."
Selara stopped cutting into her pastry and gave him a flat stare. "Do not mention yesterday to me unless you want to ruin this breakfast. I spent hours speaking to people who were all very proud of saying nothing in different accents."
"That sounds productive."
"It was hell with table manners." She stabbed a piece of pastry harder than necessary. "Do you know how many people asked about my personal life? Too many. Old colleagues, sponsors, committee creatures with polished teeth, one man who somehow thought asking whether I still sleep in laboratories was charming."
"Do you?"
"Not the point." She lifted her tea, took a sip, and narrowed her attention over the rim. "And you? How was your little outing with Cynthia?"
Trafalgar paused. "Outing?"
Selara’s mouth curved. "Fine. Your investigation walk with a pretty girl through a conservatory. Does that wording preserve your innocence better?"
"It was related to her assignment."
Selara leaned back, one hand resting around the cup. "Do not even think about forgetting my dear Aubrelle. I will turn you into a frog if you make me deal with that conversation."
Trafalgar considered his coffee with sudden respect. "I appreciate my current ability to speak without croaking, so there is no need for threats."
"There is always need for threats. People behave better with proper motivation."
"Comforting."
"You should feel comforted." She picked up another piece of fruit and finally let the teasing fade. "Now tell me the useful part."
Trafalgar lowered his voice. "The Lower Conservatory connects to the Glass Atrium through the lower side. Cynthia found the route because of her assignment. Public section above, staff passages below, guarded doors, crates moving between both locations."
Selara’s fingers stopped over her plate.
"And that matches what your contact found?"
"That is what we are waiting to confirm."
"Your contact," she repeated, making the word carry more meaning than it deserved.
Trafalgar took another sip of coffee. "It is easier than explaining him properly in a public café."
"It is not easier for me. I dislike not knowing what sort of crime is sitting beside my investigation."
Trafalgar gave her a mild glance. "He entered the lower side of the Atrium. He found information worth reporting quickly. That is enough for now."
Selara’s expression tightened, but not with anger this time. Interest had cut through the frustration.
"If he truly entered the lower side, he is either very capable or Aurevane is less competent than it believes."
"Both can be true."
"I hate that they probably are." She pushed the plate slightly aside, appetite wounded by impatience. "The lower areas are not something they would show me even if my request were approved. They would dress the route in ceremony, walk me past five safe rooms, and call the tour transparent."
"That is why we are not relying only on official requests."
Selara exhaled through her nose. "Fine. I will admit your contact may be useful. I will even avoid asking how many laws he trampled to become useful until after breakfast."
"That is generous of you."
Before Selara could answer, Trafalgar noticed a man approaching their table.
Orven von Halbrecht walked across the café terrace with the irritated dignity of someone already disappointed by the chairs, the air, and possibly the existence of other customers. Gray-brown coat, trimmed beard, gloved hands, ring on one finger. Even here, among high-end patrons and polished staff, people made room for him without quite realizing they had done it.
Selara noticed him a heartbeat later.
Her face changed. Annoyance first, recognition second, confusion third.
"Halbrecht?" she said under her breath before the man reached them. "Why is he coming here?"
Trafalgar did not answer.
Selara’s attention cut toward him. "How do you know Orven von Halbrecht?"
"You know him well?"
"I know he is a headache. He always thinks he is right, and the worst part is that he usually has enough technical knowledge to make arguing with him exhausting."
"Sounds memorable."
"He once corrected an entire panel in front of three sponsors because the phrase ’structural harmony’ offended him." Selara’s eyes narrowed. "Trafalgar."
"Do not worry, Director. In this case, it is a little different."
Halbrecht arrived at their table.
Trafalgar lifted his cup slightly. "Right?"
The man’s face remained perfectly Halbrecht: tired, severe, and professionally offended by the morning. But when he spoke, the voice changed just enough for Selara to understand something had gone profoundly wrong with reality.
"That is correct, young master."
Selara went completely still.
Caelum inclined his head with polite precision. "Good morning, Director Selara. I hope the event in Aurevane has treated you well after what happened on the train."
Selara turned slowly toward Trafalgar.
Trafalgar drank his coffee as if a man wearing another man’s face had not just greeted him in the middle of breakfast.
Selara’s mouth opened slightly, closed, and opened again with far more control. "That is not Halbrecht."
"No," Trafalgar said. "It is not."
Caelum pulled out the chair and seated himself at their table with Orven von Halbrecht’s posture, gloves, ring, and sour restraint arranged perfectly around him.
Caelum placed both gloved hands on the table. "Then, shall we begin?"
