Trafalgar crouched beside Mayla and cut through the thick ropes with one clean stroke. The strands fell away, brushing against the floor.
"I'm here," he said quietly, his voice steady despite the noise echoing beyond the walls. "Stay behind me."
Mayla rubbed her wrists, the skin red and marked. "What's happening? Are they… from your family?"
He shook his head. "I'll explain later. Garrika's fighting five of them outside. I need to help her." He glanced toward the half-open door, where distant shouts and metal clashing filled the air. "You'll hide here until we're done, understood?"
Mayla hesitated, then nodded. Her hand caught his sleeve before he could turn. "Be careful, Trafalgar. Don't get hurt."
For a second he froze, surprised by the warmth in her voice. The same concern as always—simple, honest. 'Even now… she still worries like before.'
He managed a small, awkward smile, trying to look confident for her sake. "I'll be fine. Just lock the door from inside."
