The maid opened the tall wooden door with a graceful bow.
Trafalgar stepped into the dining room, taking in the soft glow of chandeliers above and the scent of warm, freshly cooked food. The table was long but not grand—six seats total, closely spaced.
Mordrek sat at the head of the table, his long silver hair now tied back in a low, effortless ponytail. To his right sat a woman with vibrant red hair, warm green eyes, and a dignified yet approachable air. Beside her, two young boys—clearly twins—sat bouncing in their chairs, barely able to hold still.
At Mordrek's left was a teenage girl, maybe fourteen or fifteen, arms crossed and posture stiff. The empty seat left for Trafalgar was right beside her—close, connected. Not distant like at the castle.
The red-haired woman looked up as he entered.
"You must be Trafalgar, my nephew, right?" she said, her voice soft but certain. "Welcome. It's our first time meeting."
