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Chapter Text

The pressure underneath Amber’s chest felt hard. It’s rough, uncomfortable, and the larger branches rested near the base of her throat— in essence, today was a regular day of outriding. 

Minus, of course, the twenty-some treasure hoarders laughing and mingling among themselves over a fire with beer and a giant pile of gold in the center of it all. 

Hilichurls were something Amber was used to seeing in the outskirts of Mondstadt, but treasure hoarders? She was seeing more right in front of her than what she’s seen in the entirety of her life. Mondstadt wasn’t very known for their hidden treasures (a fact she learned in Outriding 101 with her grandfather way back when), so to see them with this much in their den made her more than a little suspicious. 

What was more was the fact that they all seemed to be completely at ease, their maps rolled up into thin rolls against the wall of the cave and the fire licking at the large meat they held over it. Amber knew this was something she needed to report to Jean immediately, but she couldn’t help herself from spying just a bit more to see what was going on. 

Treasure hoarders? In Monstadt? She refused to let them get any closer to her city. 

Amber shimmied on her stomach to get closer to the table she was eyeing. An older man was snoozing on the stool next to it, though he seemed knocked out from the way he cradled an empty wine bottle in the cook of his elbow. Amber watched his shoulders rise and fall rhythmically until she was satisfied, then dug her elbows into the dirt and propelled herself farther in. 

A twig snapped under her arm. 

The man snorted once. Then twice. His head snapped up in surprise, and he looked around to see what was happening. 

Amber, too late to camouflage herself back into the bushes, was where his eyes settled on once he blinked away his sleep. 

He shot up, his chair tumbling down in the process, and shouted, “Knight! There’s a knight in here!” while his goons dropped their things in surprise. 

“Well, actually, I’m an outrider, but—!” Amber shouted back. When an arrow thudded against the trunk next to her ear, Amber scrambled backwards. “Nevermind! Same difference!”

Chaos exploded in the cave. Though, Amber was much used to chaos in the kitchen where people scrambled by to put out the fire she caused trying to make a new cuisine for herself, and most definitely not used to being targeted by the most amount of people she had ever experienced in her life. 

Her heart pounded like knocked-around arrows in her chest. She nocked arrow after arrow, firing shots at the ones closest to her at the fastest speed she could muster, though for every man that fell behind to wail in pain, two other men took their place. They shouted after her and yelled obscenities, and their slurred, drunken voices didn’t bring Amber much comfort. 

A much bigger man with a mace took a slow swing at her, and Amber ducked it and kicked him behind the knee. He fell into the dirt and didn’t get up, and as much as she wanted to celebrate the quick thinking in her head, a treasure hoarder came to swing a claymore.

This time, Amber yelped, and the claymore thudded against the rocks of the cave with a resounding twang. She flinched, then barely missed a person who tried to bear-hug her. 

Every arrow she fired was slower than the last, and her arms were beginning to burn from the effort. Her fingers were red with friction, and the lightness of her back was warning her of the thinning ammunition. There were still a dozen left of them trying to attack her, and as much as she knew she’d figure a way out of there, the fear left her stuck there like there was quicksand beneath her. 

An arrow went flying and a treasure hoarder grabbed onto his shoulder in pain. 

Another went, and someone wailed. 

The third arrow hit a wall. 

The fourth missed a mace-wielding arm by a fraction. The fifth hit a knee. She couldn’t even see where the sixth went. 

Seven times were the charm, and she grabbed the lucky last seventh out of her quiver and pointed it at the last few treasure hoarders like it was a knife. 

“Stand back!” she said, mustering as much conviction into her tone as possible. She tried not to let it shake as much as her arm. 

The treasure hoarders looked at each other. They laughed, burly and loud, and one of the bigger men, one who reeked of alcohol, swayed on his feet and crouched down to look at her in the eyes. His smile was crooked and his teeth were yellowing. 

“Aw,” he crooned, and Amber winced, “Is the wittle bunny knight going to boss us around?”

“As a Knight of Favonius, I am ordering you all to—”

“To what? Sit down and play patty cake with you?” he taunted, and his buddies snickered at his jest. He plucked the tiny arrow out of her fingertips in her confusion and threw it to the side. Amber watched it skid across their makeshift wooden platform until it hit a wall, spinning slightly to the right and stopping completely.

“Now, what are we gonna do with you?” he murmured, and took another step forward. He reached for her, perhaps to grab onto her collar, or her chin, or any part of her body his drunken state could find. 

She didn’t know what he was trying to do though, because frost blasted into the side of his face and the weight made him stumble backwards. Letting out a surprised gurgle, the treasure hoarder fought to stay on his legs, but combined with the giant icicle on his head and his current state, he went down rather easily. 

The confusion among his men didn’t last long either. A white-blue blur passed her, and the scent of lamp grass was what made Amber realize that she wasn’t dreaming. Two men went down with a single swing of her sword, and the gracefulness of her upwards cut made another falter backwards in surprise.

She jabbed the hilt of her claymore under his jaw, and like his friends crumbled all around him, he was knocked down in a way that made Amber think he weighed as much as a feather. 

The last standing treasure hoarder was looking the reconnaissance captain in the eyes with so much fear that Amber prayed he wasn’t peeing himself. He held his hands close to his chest, wide, unfocused eyes unblinking. 

With an upturned sneer (which she knew from experience wasn’t to gloat, but an expression made from the disgusting scent of reeking body odor in the cave), Eula twirled her claymore, slid it back onto her back, and hit him on the neck with a sharp jab of the hand. 

Down he went, and Eula massaged the side of her hand with the other one. She pivoted on a graceful heel, the sparkles of the last remaining frost melting away from her, and she looked at Amber.

Instantly, her battle-brave look dropped into one of immediate concern. “Are you alright?” she asked, and though it was quipped, Amber could feel the sincerity from it. “You could have waited a few more minutes for me to get here, you know.”

Amber couldn’t help but let out a relieved laugh. Without the weight of her full quiver and the stare of twenty men, she felt so much lighter than she did all day. Without a second thought, she rushed forward and jumped into Eula’s bewildered arms. 

“And you could’ve gotten here a few minutes earlier, you know!” Amber retorted with a laugh, squeezed her arms around Eula’s neck. She could feel her friend reluctantly hold her, before tightening the embrace herself. 

Her heart completely relieved, Amber nuzzled her face into Eula’s neck. She groaned, then let go of the steadily heating body underneath her tight embrace. “I could’ve been lunch meat if you didn’t get here when you did!” she said with a sigh, jumping backwards to allow Eula her room. “Did you see how big these guys were? I mean, what were they doing in Monstadt? They must’ve been amateurs if they got lost here on the way to Liyue.”

“Quite the contrary, actually,” Eula answered. She scratched the side of her neck, then twisted it forward and grimaced at the sprain. 

Before Eula could continue, Amber inhaled sharply. She took a step forward, the excitement radiating off of her in large waves in ways she knew even Eula could feel. “Wait! You’re back.” She held onto Eula’s wrists and looked at her in the eyes, a big grin on her face. “You’re back! You said you were going to be in Liyue for at least two months— it’s only been a month and a week, so you’re early!”

“I am,” Eula confirmed, though rather awkwardly. Amber squeezed her wrists, and Eula cleared her throat and glanced away from her gaze. “Though the situation in Liyue is far from over. The treasure hoarders here are connected to it.”

Amber frowned. Her hands were still securely grasped around Eula’s wrist, and though they were dropped to their hips, she made no move to detach herself. As far as she knew, Eula was called over for a mission in Liyue due to an influx of treasure hoarders and a conspiracy concerning their actions. 

Eula’s early reappearance made sense to her now. 

“Well,” Amber began, and her thumb stroked over the inside of Eula’s wrist, mostly to comfort herself. “Before we report all of this to Jean and the knights, could we maybe grab some lunch first? Good Hunter has a sale on Tuesdays now.”

Eula scoffed. “You want to eat lunch before you report our duties?”

Amber tilted her head in amusement. “Yes? I didn’t eat anything yet, ya know, outriding and all— and my friend’s back in town, so…?”

Eula shook her head and stepped away from Amber’s hands. “Let’s eat a hefty meal then. Knowing you, you’ve probably barely had anything to eat for breakfast out there as well. For that, you should know I’ll have vengeance.” She turned her back on Amber and was walking to the exit of the treasure hoarders’ hidden cave, though she lifted a hand over her shoulder to signal Amber to follow.

Grinning, Amber followed up to her side and smiled at her friend, then jostled her shoulder roughly. “C’mon! Are you really just going to ignore me? That’s not how you greet a friend you haven’t seen in a month,” she scolded lightly. 

“Please, you nearly cost me my mission. You’re lucky I’m offering to pay for lunch even after all that,” Eula said dryly. In her mental library, Amber translated the words in her head: You nearly died, and I’m insanely glad to see you, so let’s grab a bite to eat and it’ll be all on me for today! 

Amber nodded along to that. “I’ll let you stay at my place tonight then, if you’re staying in Mondstadt,” she said, and Eula glanced over at her, then looked away with pursed lips. Amber translated that too: Thank you, you’re a great friend, Amber! 

Eula began to walk a little faster in her stride. Amber picked up her pace to keep up with her, then remembered a few stories in her head. As they walked home to the warm glow of their city in the distance, Amber began to tell her friend about the things she missed. She spoke about the new recipes she came up with, the new merchants who arrived in Monstadt in the past month, and the things she saw while outriding in the distance. 

Eventually, they arrived at the stone bridge, where other knights greeted them with a warm nod to Amber and a slightly less one to Eula. Amber tried not to let her distaste muck up her words, so she continued to talk about a weird plant she tasted with the young pyro-wielding boy in the Guild that made her see weird colors and shapes, laughing at the recollection of it. 

By then, they were being sat in the inside of Good Hunter, and Sara was gracious enough as to let them sit by their favorite spot. Menus weren’t given to them, considering the regularity they visited the restaurant, though Sara stopped long enough to bring Eula up to speed about the new things on their menu. 

Eula declined the offer for the new menu, and they settled on their regular: coffee and steaming hot steak for Amber, and ice-cold punch and egg rolls for Eula. 

They chatted for a bit, filling in the holes of the few weeks they were apart with idle chatter and chuckles here and there about the hijinks they were up to. There wasn’t really much to tell from Amber’s side of the coin, but Eula’s was so interesting that Amber didn’t even smell nor see the delicious steak put in front of her until Sara butted in to their conversation. 

“It sounds like you had one heck of a time in Liyue, Eula,” she commented idly, and Amber looked over at her in surprise. 

“Jeez! When did you get here?” she said with a laugh, and though a hand was on her heart, she was genuinely startled. 

Eula’s lips quirked up slightly in amusement. She pinched her plate and slid it closer to her as she said, “Sara has been standing by our side since I started retelling you the story about my scuffle with the Yuheng of the Qixing.”

“That, I have,” Sara confirmed, and she laughed a little. She put a salad bowl right in between them. “All of this is on the house. I can’t find a better way to thank Captain Eula and Outrider Amber with a warm-cooked meal.”

“Oh, you don’t have to,” Amber said kindly, just as Eula declared, “You think we’d rob your business for free? I will have vengeance for this.”

Sara and Amber shared a knowing look. “We’ll see about that,” Sara answered gently, and there was a twinge of amusement coated behind her words. 

Before she could stalk off, Eula raised a hand to her, effectively stopping the woman in her tracks. She cleared her throat, dabbing her mouth with a handkerchief put on the table, then said, “I would like to ask you, before you leave, about how your—” she coughed into her hand “—situation, is going.”

Sara looked at her, confused. A split second later, the lightbulb went off in her head, and she pivoted to face Eula once more. “Oh! You mean our lack of boar meat?” At Eula's nod, she tapped her chin thoughtfully and paused for a moment. “Well, we got a good shipment of them last week. It’s still not as much as I like it to be, but I guess beggars can’t be choosers.”

“If you’d like, I would be more than happy to assist you on that front,” Eula said amicably, and Amber absolutely marveled at how eased she seemed to look. Usually, her shoulders squared and there was a permanent slight scowl as she ate, even as they talked, but now she seemed almost… subdued, somehow. 

“You don’t have to,” Sara insisted, and even she looked rather surprised at Eula’s proposition. “We don’t serve boar meat as often as the rest of the things on our menu anyhow.”

“Nonsense! I utterly refuse to let a good business as yours sink under the iceberg,” Eula said stubbornly, and she took a measly sip of her cold drink. She pointed her drink at Sara. The second thing Amber noticed was the serenity in her eyes as she initiated a staring contest between herself and the waitress. So much different than what everyone was used to. “Once I get back from my charges offset by the Acting Grand Master, I’ll take Amber with me and bring back some meat for Good Hunter.”

“Me?” Amber said, her voice a slight octave higher. Eula only slitted her eyes over to her lazily, a smile curling on her lips at her reaction. She didn’t know why her curled lips coiled her own heart the way that it did. “Wh—?”

“She’s good with a bow,” Eula answered for the both of them. She continued to sip lazily. “This will be my reprisal for the wrongs you’ve committed tonight.”

Sara shook her head fondly. “Okay,” she said, affectionately exasperated, then bowed to them slightly and walked off to serve the rest of her customers. 

Once she was gone, Eula had leaned back against her chair to begin eating. 

Amber didn’t touch her food. Instead, she stared, and stared, and stared, her eyes zeroing in on Eula’s comfortable posture and the quiet smile on her face and the eyes that were tired at the edges, but seemed rather wide awake, as if something, or someone, had caught her attention.

What could that mean? she wondered briefly. Well, what else could it mean?

“You have a crush on someone!” Amber voiced out, rather proudly. 

And loudly, it seemed, because Eula’s eyes widened and she laid down her drink in a way that made it obvious that she wasn’t expecting anything like that to come from her lunch mate. 

Eula looked at her in stunned silence, before leaning slightly across the table to hiss, “What?”

“You like someone. You have that puppy love look in your eyes,” Amber said excitedly. She picked up her knife and fork and began to dig into her steak, now her mind had finally been made up. An Outrider had to be a good investigator, after all, that’s what her grandpa used to say all the time. “And if I had to guess— it’s on… Sara, isn’t it?” The last part of her sentence was said with quieter and quieter syllables, because even Amber knew the importance of keeping these kinds of secrets as hush hush as possible. 

Eula gaped at her. She was stunned into silence. 

Satisfied with Eula’s reaction, Amber tore off a big chunk of her steak and chewed. All the while, Eula kept staring at her, her hands frozen over her plate. Her mouth didn’t even move. 

Giddy and feeling slightly impulsive from the rush of her correct revelation, Amber leaned back on her chair and shot up her arm. She waved it to and fro, and it caught the eye of none other than Sara herself. 

“Amber,” Eula hissed, and she sounded extremely exasperated. 

“Sara,” Amber greeted sweetly, just as Sara made her way to stop at their table. 

“Can I get you two anything?” Sara asked them, her hands clasped together in a professional manner. “Does your food taste alright?”

“It tastes better than alright,” Amber assured her with a thumbs up. Sara looked relieved at that. “I just wanted to ask, are you doing anything after this?”

“Am— ber,” Eula warned, her name spoken through gritted teeth.

Sara thought about it for a moment. “Well, after my shift I have to rush home and do my laundry, but other than that, I’m usually free. Why?”

“Well, Eula’s usually free at night too,” Amber answered, shrugging as casually as possible. She leaned back on her chair and bit a slice of steak off her fork. “Maybe you two could do something later? Maybe, listen to a bard in Angel’s Share, or—?”

“Well—” Sara’s eyebrows peaked upwards. 

“What she means is,” Eula said, her voice steeled as she straightened her spine and looked between Amber and Sara a saccharine smile, “Amber would like for all of us to do something together as friends. You know her. She tends to get overly excited when her friends are back in town.”

“I see,” Sara said, though her brow stayed knitted and she looked between them with increasing amounts of confusion. Amber didn’t need to guess why— she and Eula were having a staring contest, the pair telepathically communicating their distaste for each other’s handling of the situation. “Well, if neither of you need anything more from me, it’ll be best for me to be on my way.”

“Yeah,” Eula said dryly. She cleared her throat, and said, much kinder this time, “Thank you, Sara. The food tastes great.”

Once Sara walked away, Amber asked, “Why’d you do that for?”

“Why did you?” Eula retorted, and she looked and sounded as slightly aggravated as Amber. “What on Teyvat even let you entertain the idea of me being infatuated with someone?”

Amber raised her arms up in defeat. “Well, what was I supposed to think? You came back after a month out of the city looking happier than usual. Something’s had to happen while you were gone. As in, you missed someone here— you know, apart from me, or you—”

“I promise you, Amber, you are farther from the truth than you realize,” Eula said distastefully, and she gulped down her drink. 

“Come on,” Amber groaned. She slid her arm on the table and rested her chin on it, looking up at Eula. Eula looked down at her plainly. “Seriously. I’m your friend. Don’t I get oh-my-gods-I-met-this-woman-during-my-commission privileges? I tell you about mine all the time!”

“You do, and I would happily indulge you in those,” Eula said. She paused, forcing Amber to look up at her curiously. “If I had anything to do with those experiences.”

“Eula,” she groused. “I’m pretty sure I haven’t ever seen you interested in someone before. You can’t blame me for being nosy when all of a sudden, you’re exhibiting all of these symptoms from it.”

Eula raised her eyebrows. “Symptoms?”

“Yeah!” Amber picked her head up from the table. “Love sickness! You know, when you have the puppy dog eyes and you look all relaxed and—”

“Yes, yes, I understand now,” Eula said impatiently. Her glass was beginning to become empty. “You must be gravely mistaken. I was in a good mood coming home to Mondstadt earlier than usual, and I’m sure your wish for me to be enamored with someone overlapped your judgement.”

“Don’t try to lecture me,” Amber scolded. “I know when people are in love! I’m basically Cupid around here— I even have the wings to match. Whatever happened with you out there, something changed, and you and I both know it.”

Eula stared her down. She refused to back down, and stared right back, trying her best to encapsulate her ferocity and sincerity with a single gaze. How can she tell Eula that something like this wasn’t ever to be ashamed for? If anything, she was sparkling with joy, knowing that someone worthy had finally caught her friend’s (slightly) critical eye. 

Eula was the one to break the contact first. She sighed, irritably but mostly tiredly, and rubbed the back of her neck and stretched. Amber’s guilt finally settled on her like precipitation. She had forgotten that Eula had walked from Liyue to Monstadt on foot, and had most likely encountered trouble on the way. She’ll bother her with this after they meet with Jean, and after forcing her to take a nice warm bath and a seventeen hour nap.

“You know, it’s nothing to be ashamed of,” she said gently, and Eula’s eyes skimmed over to her in surprise. “If it’s not Sara, then it’s gotta be someone, right? If you don’t wanna tell me, that’s fine. But I’m still going to help you, you know.” Even if mostly, she wanted to do it to know who it was. She was dying to know. 

A mouthful of eggs went into Eula’s mouth instead of a response. It was the closest thing to a confirmation as she was going to get. 

Amber took that as a good sign. She beamed. “Hey, the Lawrences have a book on this kind of stuff, right?”

Eula snorted. “If they did, it would mostly be full of pages about wooing women with mora and jewelry,” she answered wryly.

Amber shrugged and sliced up her steak, her good mood settled on her like a permanent stamp. “Worth a try though.” She laughed when Eula flicked a piece of her egg roll at her. 

“You’ve tried your best here. We should leave,” Eula hissed over her. Amber snuck further into the room. “Amber. Are you even listening to me? They will have you slaughtered and hung like a tapestry in the dining hall if you’re caught in here with me.”

Amber waved a hand dismissively at her. Her knee ached from having her entire body pressed against it for support, her crouched stature doing little in hiding her lithe form in the bushes. Eula crouched next to her, though unlike her, Eula looked as if she was ready to bolt like a lion in the other direction. 

The direction that didn’t showcase the Lawrence Estate’s gigantic gates, nor the illuminated forms of hired bodyguards walking around with sharp polearms like lazy canines. 

“We’re already here though,” Amber argued, and she faced her body to look at Eula. “Look. You can boost me up over the wall, I’ll open the gate just a smidge, and you can sneak in with me through the kitchen doors you were talking about. It sounds like a plan.”

“Oh, it sounds like a plan alright,” Eula said. She glared, hard. “Sounds like a wonderful plan for you to perish where you stand.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Amber huffed with a roll of her eyes. She walked closer to the mossy walls, resting a gloved hand on it to test its durability. Her heart pounded in her chest, reminding her gently that she was lying, just a bit. Of course she knew how serious the Lawrences could get about these kinds of things— but as if she was ever going to show Eula that. Besides: “We’ll only be in and on, a couple minutes at most. We just need to grab it, and we’re out of there.”

Eula sighed, deep and loud. She pinched the bridge of her nose and made a face, looking up at the night and its stars as if praying to them for guidance. When she dipped her chin back to look at Amber, she said, “And there’s really nothing I could say to you to change your mind?”

“Nothing at all.” Amber grinned. 

Eula stared at her. Under the glow of the moon, the edges of her tightened jaw look softer, somehow, and Eula’s glare does nothing to intimidate her. If anything, the unearthed softness of her facial features warmed the oven in her stomach, and Amber tore her gaze away. 

She felt Eula’s eyes on the back of her neck, perhaps questioning if her broken stare was due to second thoughts. To squelch that potential thought, Amber whispered, “Come on. The stupid guards are gonna come back any minute.”

Grunting as her only reply, Eula slid up next to the wall and looked at her expectantly. In one practiced motion, one they’ve mastered over dozens upon dozens of missions together, Amber squeezed her shoulder and placed her foot on her hands, being shot up to the lip of the wall in a graceful launch. 

Though slightly winded with the breath knocked out of her, Amber grabbed blindly around the top of the wall, then hoisted herself up and over. When her feet landed on the other side, branches cracked underneath, and she quickly crouched behind a tree in case it attracted the attention of potential hazards. 

The entire thing took only a couple seconds, despite the beating of her heart being triple the time, and Eula was already on the other side with her before they knew it. 

Eula mumbled things under her breath while they snaked their way from bush to bush, and their constant moving and huffing made it hard for Amber to hear her properly, though she did catch some words of “Unbelievably, and unequivocally—” and “All for one trivial—” as they passed through the arches of the homebody.

“We’re the two greatest Knights of Favonius the world has ever seen,” Amber assured her, but it doesn’t do much in smoothing the crease in Eula’s brow. “We can take ‘em if we have to!”

“Sounds like you’re assuring the both of us rather than just me,” Eula said dryly, and Amber laughed, even if it sounded slightly nervous. 

There, they passed through the narrow hallways, lit by lamps that looked much too old for modern Mondstadt. At some point, Eula had grabbed onto her hand tightly, gently tugging her through her old maze with squared shoulders that made the guilt finally settle in like fresh snowflakes on a canvas. 

Amber opened her mouth to tell her that she didn’t mind going back after all, but her words caught in her mouth when her chest bumped into something small. She squeaked, releasing her hold on Eula and catching herself before she fell backwards. Eula was at her side without a second to spare. 

“Oh! Eula?”

Blinking, Amber looked between the two women, mouth slightly ajar. Eula stood there, an arm still out in front of her to protect her, but she looked rather sheepish now than defensive. The woman she was staring at adorned a maid’s standard wear, and she too looked at Eula with a mix of awe and surprise. 

Amber cleared her throat. Eula dropped her arm and looked over at her, a gloved finger coming under her collar to tug at it gently. 

The maid was the first to speak up. “Is there any chance that I could help you two?”

“We’re… fine,” Eula said, and her strained voice connoted the clear struggle she had in the situation. Amber had never seen her look so awkward before, and that was saying something, especially with all the hijinks she witnessed over the years. It made her wonder if… 

“Have you been summoned here, Miss Lawrence?” the maid said kindly. Though her gentle tone conveyed her hospitality, the tension in Eula’s shoulders were as clear as ever. “I’d be delighted to escort you to the ballroom if you’re—”

“No, no,” Eula said quickly, and Amber took that opportunity to look between her and the maid that was making her feel so out of place. “I…”

She guessed Eula would flounder the moment the maid had opened her mouth. So, Amber graciously took the reins from her and said, “Eula just missed her old home! She was feeling a little homesick, believe it or not, so I wanted to accompany her here like a good ol friend. You get it though, right? We didn’t wanna attract attention or anything, so we’d really appreciate it if maybe, possibly, you wouldn’t tell on us if we promise to leave everything alone and get out lickety split?”

Eula was burning a hole in the side of her head the entire time. Amber had iced the last of her compelling argument with clasped hands and a big, hopeful smile, one that had never failed to win over the citizens of Monstadt when she begged them to let her go, just this once (which, she would admit, had been more than just once over the years). 

But to her surprise, instead of a defeated sigh or a shake of the head, she was met with honest to Celestia laughter. 

The maid covered her mouth, shaking out the last of her giggles with a wave of the other hand, then turned her amused eyes over to Eula, who looked as if she was ready to bolt out of there, her eyes glancing around. Amber somehow found it a little endearing. 

“Why are you both really here, Eula?” she asked, and though she still kept up her politeness, she sounded much more casual, the way friends would speak to one another rather than between a master of the house and a maid. “I don’t suppose that even in a thousand moons, you’d ever want to step foot here with a seven foot claymore.”

“I don’t,” Eula said miserably. She massaged the bridge of her nose, and Amber watched the entire exchange with deadly precision. Their casualness with each other seemed to go beyond just household familiarity. “This is my friend, Amber—”

“Outrider of the Knights of Favonius,” Amber supplied helpfully. 

“—and she dragged me all the way here for my family’s cookbook.” Eula sounded as exasperated as she looked. “Honestly, there was no other way to convince her to stay away from here without tying her to Barbatos’ statue. I vowed to make her pay when we get back.”

The maid’s lips curled up in amusement. Her long stare at a shifting, sweating Amber caught Eula’s attention, and she craned her neck to look at her with a fixed look. It only took a couple seconds for it to hit Eula, and when it did, it looked almost as if Amber had taken her precious pie and smacked her in the face, icing and hard crust and all.

“So, yeah, about that,” Amber said with a laugh. It made her throat dry, and she cleared it under Eula’s unmovable gaze. “I… just wanted to find your library to see if there were any diaries your family kept. Or romance novels. You know, anything to see what the Lawrences raised you on about love.”

“You— this entire expedition was for you to—” Eula sputtered. She closed her eyes, drawing in a deep breath, then pinched the bridge of her nose and scowled. Amber fidgeted with the hem of her hoodie, smiling sheepishly. The maid took a subtle step backwards. “You told me you wanted to learn how to cook traditional Monstadt food!”

“I do!” Amber argued. “Eventually! I just wanted to see your family’s romance section, just to see what I was working with, and—”

“You’re still on about that? I’ve disclosed to you on numerous occasions that I have no interest in other women, you—”

“Yeah, yeah! Likely story! You think I’d just believe that? C’mon, do you know how many people lie about things like this because it embarrasses them? I just wanted to find out more about your family’s traditions so I could help you woo this mystery lady in case you still didn’t wanna—”

“Oh, please, as if I would do anything to adhere to my family’s petty rules. I’m not lying to you, Amber, I just simply have no interest in the women you speak of.”

“You were just ogling this poor lady twenty seconds ago! And you think I’m just supposed to believe that you— oh,” she squeaked, and then slammed her palms over her mouth to keep it shut. She looked, horrified at herself, over to the maid she accidentally spoke of. 

To her (somewhat confused) relief, the maid only watched the two of them with a slight grin, and Amber’s speculated admission did nothing to hinder it. 

Eula sighed, deep and tired. She waved a hand over to the lady. “This is one of Lawrence Estate’s young chambermaids, Gisela,” Eula deadpanned, and the woman waved a slight hand over to Amber. “We grew up together. When I left the Clan, I promised I’d write to her, though I, unfortunately, didn’t get to uphold that promise.”

“And what is it that you say nowadays?” Gisela teased. “‘I will have vengeance?’ I should have written a letter to you containing only that in bold ink.”

The way Eula and Gisela looked at each other made Amber’s stomach roil with a kind of feeling that she only got after tasting bad berries when outriding. A sick feeling, almost, but it felt boiling hot and stuck to her all at once, and questions towards Eula like How come you didn’t mention her before? plagued her mind. She couldn’t understand why, so she dismissed the feeling and said, “Nice to meet you, Gisela! Your names kinda rhyme.”

“It does, doesn’t it?" the maid said with a kind smile. She curtsied to Amber, and Amber began to mimic her, but Eula stopped her with a hand on her shoulder and a shake of the head. The look in her eyes was a common signal: That’s not how you do things the aristocratic way. "I return the greeting, Miss Amber."

And when Gisela tipped her head up to meet her eyes, Amber only saw a knowing look. It flickered over to Eula, just for the tiniest of briefest moments. 

“Can I… pull Eula aside for a quick sec?” she asked politely. Gisela, although a little confused, nodded. “Thanks!”

She grabbed Eula’s arm without another moment to spare, then turned them around so their backs were facing the maid. “Ask her out for dinner,” she hissed. 

“What? Are you insane?”

“She’s your childhood friend, you haven’t spoken to her in years, and taking her out to dinner is your best bet in both apologizing and gaining back another friend,” Amber explained, and she scrunched her brow in an attempt to school her features into something more serious. 

Eula huffed. “If this is about—”

“It’s not,” Amber said quickly. Then as an afterthought, added, “Well, mostly. I’m not going to push you about this, but like her or not, you gotta admit that a dinner date is a pretty sweet deal— but also, is she your crush, or—?”

“Amber.”

“Right! Sorry. Ask her out for dinner. It’s the very least you can do for a friend, hopelessly in love with her or not.”

Eula shook her arm away from Amber gently, shaking her head and fixing the cuffs of her sleeves. She straightened her back and pivoted on a heel, and Amber had faced the right way just in time for Eula to say, “Gisela, would you perhaps like to accompany me to… dinner… sometime?”

Most of her sentence was structured like a question, but nevertheless, Amber flashed a thumbs up at her friend in support. Eula pursed her lips at her, vengeance in her eyes. Amber tried not to laugh. 

The chambermaid tilted her head at them, though there was pleasant surprise strung along her face. “Eula, I’d love to. I never thought I’d see the day for you to ask me something like that again.”

Amber grinned proudly to herself. 

“Great! I will be back in Monstadt in three weeks, and I would love to catch up with the innings and outings of your life since our last convergence by then.”

Gisela and Eula exchanged last goodbyes and the promise of keeping lips sealed, all the while Amber stared at Eula in utter shock. 

Once Eula’s old friend had become nothing but a dot down the long hallway, Amber exclaimed, “Three weeks? For a dinner date? She’ll be miserable by then!”

“We’ve been friends for over ten years. I’m sure three weeks to reconnect wouldn’t kill her,” Eula said wryly. She led Amber out through one of the painted arches, and Amber couldn’t tell if she was leading them out or to finish what they started in the Lawrence Library. “And it’s not a date.”

“Okay, maybe our dinners aren’t dates,” Amber said decisively, and Eula glanced over at her briefly at that, lips subtly quirked down, “and maybe your dinner with Gisela won’t be at first, but you never know until you try it.”

“I promise you, feelings won’t bloom out of one mediocre dinner from a childhood friendship. And even if they do, then they’ll come out of a place with ill intentions,” Eula answered, and something in her tone made Amber clamp up. 

Amber decided to change the subject. Sorta. “Why do you even need three weeks to go on a dinner date?” she prodded. The hallway they entered smelled something like lavender, and it was lit much too dimly for her to see the other end comfortably. “I know aristocrats have a lot on their plates, but I didn’t think it would be that much.” Plus, you never schedule these kinds of things with me, she wanted to argue, though she had no idea what point it would be trying to make. She didn’t want to investigate it further anyway. 

“I’ll most likely still be needed in Liyue,” Eula explained. She held open a rusty, tiny door for Amber to go through, and she hovered her hand over Amber to ensure she didn’t hit her head on the way out. “That Gunnhildr girl summoned me for a meeting to touch base with my assignment, and it’s highly possible she’ll send me out again by tomorrow morning, considering its unfinished business, to meet with a friend there to gain legal expertise on how to persecute the thieves on Liyue soil. But, no matter— vengeance will be mine.”

It only took a split second for Amber to make a decision. “Can I come?” she blurted out. 

Everything in Liyue was so… put together, compared to Mondstadt. 

“It’s because of their infrastructure,” Eula explained to her patiently at the inquiry. “Millenia upon millenia was put into painstakingly crafting a home their Archon would be proud to come home to every year.”

“It would take me forever to see everything,” Amber said in amazement, gawking as kites as big as her flew above them, casting shadows down below in streaks of gray. 

“It would,” Eula agreed. She jutted her head to the path to their right. “Luckily, we’re not here to sightsee.”

“Buzzkill,” Amber mumbled under her breath. Before she could give Eula time to answer, the smell of food wafted in the air, immediately catching her attention and switching on the grumbling in her stomach. She tugged on Eula’s sleeve, much like the children dragging around their guardians to the toy stalls. “Wait, wait! We haven’t had anything to eat today!”

“That’s… true, yes, but there’s some rations left in my bag if you—”

“Aren’t you sick of mushy old rations?” Amber asked her. She looked at Eula pointed when she made a subtle face. “Seriously. We’re going to torture ourselves to death if we don’t get something to eat. There’s, like, a million food stalls down this road.”

Eula looked conflicted for a moment. Her head kept turning between the road and the food stall they were closest to, and she only decided to let Amber drag her to her stool when her own stomach growled even louder than Amber’s. 

Once they sat down, a woman flashed them a smile, then asked them what they’d like to eat. “The biggest thing on your menu,” Amber said simply. She held up two fingers. “And make those two, please.”

“A big meal will slow us down,” Eula commented with a frown. The woman was already engrossed in her cooking to listen to them. “We mustn’t eat too much on our journey.” Yet she made no move to cancel Amber’s order. Perhaps even her vigor couldn’t be faced against a week’s worth of hiking and fighting slimes nonstop. 

“We’re already here, and we probably won’t be deployed out on the field until after we meet with your friend,” Amber pointed out, and she nearly gulped down the appetizer soup passed to her with one swallow. She wiped her mouth then continued, “You’ll live with one indulgent meal, Captain Lawrence.”

Eula rolled her eyes. “You dare use that name while we eat for lunch?”

“When you’re being stuck-up like that, then yes.” Amber stuck her tongue out at her playfully. 

Before Eula could quip back, the woman passed them two big plates of meat buns, both steaming hot and looking deliciously good. They looked at their food once, then at each other, holding their gazes for a split second before they came to a non-verbal truce and dug into their food like starving hikers. Which, in a sense, was basically the case. 

“Oh my gods,” Amber groaned, taking another big bite of her bun. “This is the most delicious thing I’ve eaten in forever.”

The street vendor laughed. “Not hard when you two look like you haven’t had a proper meal in decades,” she teased, and Amber only nodded her head in avid agreement. Poor Eula was too focused on her meal to say or do anything. “So, what brings you both from Monstadt to the City of Contracts?”

To say Amber was surprised was an understatement. “What gave us away?” she asked with a laugh. 

“Many people from Monstadt come here to visit,” the vendor observed. She wiped her grill as she spoke. “They’re the people of freedom— I expect no less from them to want to explore the other nations, especially since we’re so close by.”

“We’re not here as tourists,” Eula clarified, and Amber kicked her under the table. Eula only shot her a look that asked What?

“Knights, then?” the vendor guessed. At Amber’s nod, she smiled at them. “Then I thank you for whatever service you have here.”

“No need,” Amber said graciously. “We’re just happy to help. Right, Eula?”

Eula swallowed the last of her bun and dabbed at her cheek with a handkerchief. Amber looked on in amusement. Then, Eula cleared her throat and answered, but Amber couldn’t understand even a single word of it. 

Only when the vendor raised her eyebrows in pleasant surprise and answered in kind did she realize that Eula had answered her in their local language, not the common tongue. It made Amber’s eyebrows raise. 

The pair exchanged rapid fire words back and forth, and although Amber couldn’t understand most of it, she understood “Monstadt” and “Amber” coming. Their tones were friendly and conversational, though as the vendor’s voice became lighter and into a lilt, the more flustered Eula became. 

Though there was no outside evidence of Eula’s embarrassment, Amber could tell it from the way she sipped her drink, and how often she kept having to clear her throat. 

Eventually, the woman laughed and addressed Amber instead, telling her to enjoy her meal and the company, then returned to cooking. 

“Well, that was… something,” Amber said decisively. She put down her soup. “You never told me you spoke Chinese?”

Eula shrugged. “You never asked.”

Amber made a face at her, and she could see Eula’s lips curl upwards as she downed her cup. As if she felt bad, Eula put down her cup and explained, “The Lawrence Clan forced all of their children to learn most of the languages of the nations. A social thing, I presume.”

That made sense. Amber nodded along to that. “What’d she say anyway?” she asked, because she couldn’t imagine someone embarrassing Eula so easily to that degree. 

“She asked for our names, and I told her I was on a commission with a friend of mine,” Eula told her, and she picked up her own soup to sip at it. Amber could see the subtle flush of red around the shell of her ears. 

She tilted her head. What was so embarrassing about that?

Amber couldn’t find the time to squeeze in her question before the jingle of coins whizzed past her ear, before it paused, then jingled louder and faster to let a bubbly pink woman enter her peripheral vision. Instinctively, she turned and was surprised to see the woman already looking at them. 

“Eula!” she exclaimed, and Eula turned her chair to greet her with a languid smile. They were familiar with each other, it seemed, so Amber inferred that this must have been the friend Eula was meaning to meet. “I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon!”

“I told you that speed walking was more effective than running when hiking long distances, Yanfei,” Eula joked, and the inside joke of theirs landed, if Eula’s friend’s loud laugh was any indication of it. 

“You haven’t changed a bit,” Yanfei teased. She held onto Eula’s hands and squeezed them, her eyes shining brighter than any other person Amber had seen so far on the street. A pyro Vision dangled at her side— somehow the sight of it did nothing to stifle the roiling heat in her stomach, when seeing another with a pyro Vision as she had was something she usually welcomed and enjoyed to see.

Yet, it makes the sight of seeing Yanfei and Eula together look suspiciously like Amber and Eula. It was a fact that made her shift her weight uncomfortably, though she couldn’t exactly place why. 

“You must be Amber, right?” This time, Yanfei had turned her gaze over to Amber, and Amber flashed her a big smile to convey her friendliest intentions. “Eula talks about you alot. Should we continue this in my office?”

“Yes, please,” Eula said quickly, and she stood up so fast and picked up her things that Amber had to scramble to catch up to her. Yanfei only laughed, like it was a reaction she had been expecting and wanting to see, and the trio (led by Yanfei) was ushered down the street to a homey-looking legal advisor’s office. 

Amber would be lying if she didn’t admit that Yanfei’s office looked much better than she could have ever imagined. Whenever Eula spoke of her friend, she only imagined a person who acted much like all of the legal advisors she’d encountered in the past— stoic, aloof. Almost like Eula, basically, but without Eula’s charm and attractiveness. 

“So,” Yanfei declared, pulling out her chair. She sat down and made a hand gesture for them to sit on the chairs across from her, a large brown office table in between them. “All I know is that you two need a refresher on Liyue laws with persecuting.”

“Essentially,” Eula said, just as Amber had opened her mouth. Eula tapped her chin in thought, and this was the first time that Amber could recall that Eula had actively taken it upon herself to carry a conversation in Amber’s presence. “Though it would be quite helpful to know what we’re dealing with, in its entirety. I’ve encountered a few of the treasure hoarders I tailed all the way to Monstadt, though they look almost like mercenaries to me than higher ranked officers.”

“You’d be right,” Yanfei agreed, folding her hands over on top of the desk. The two were looking at each other with such intensity that Amber knew this wasn’t a conversation she couldn’t butt in with, even if she tried. “The treasure hoarders are an entity outside of Liyue control. Much like street gangs, they don’t possess any protection laws that other groups and establishments have; nonetheless, they’re prevalent in every corner of Liyue and have become such unknown anomalies in the past few years that the Millelith have legally stated that they won’t and cannot be responsible for anything the treasure hoarder groups cause outside of Liyue Harbor.”

Yanfei’s long-winded explanation took moments for it to click in Amber’s brain, but Eula had recovered much faster than she did. Eula was nodding along, then asked Yanfei about the state of the economy down at the Harbor (which, honestly, had already lost Amber), in which Yanfei explained with just as much vigor and detail than her last explanation. 

That continued on for a while, and all Amber could do was drag her toes into the wood and write imaginary letters into it, Eula and Yanfei’s words drowning in her ears like they were stuffed with cotton. She felt useless being there. 

Finally, Yanfei clasped her hands, making Amber jump in surprise. Yanfei’s eyes glanced over to her, a smile playing on her lips (one that looked suspiciously similar to a certain chambermaid she encountered not too long ago), and she asked, “Is there anything else you’d like to know, or for me to run by with you? I’d be happy to answer anything, no charge required.”

“No charge, hmm?” Eula said amusedly. “And here I was thinking that you were charging me a hundred mora per minute.”

“Maybe for other people,” Yanfei said with a snicker. She wrote something on a piece of paper on her desk, then whipped it in the air and gave it to Eula, who took it graciously. “But for a friend? Never. Actually— discounts for friends, free for you.”

“Well, don’t you know how to make a woman feel special?” Eula laughed, and Amber looked between the two of them. Could it be that…?

“I owed you a favor. Don’t let it get to your head now,” Yanfei teased, but she still stood up to side-step around the desk to give Eula a little side hug. Hugs, jokes, and long-winded conversations— clearly, this had to be someone who was Eula’s type. 

“Hey, Yanfei!” Amber blurted out, and both women turned to look at her. “Eula thinks you’re pretty.”

As impulsive and poorly thought out as it was, Amber couldn’t find it in herself to regret it. Eula’s horrified face was enough to make her giggle and make it all worth it. 

Yanfei only grinned. “D’you now?” She looked over at Eula, who was gaping at the both of them with wide eyes. “Well, thanks! I think you don’t look too shabby yourself, Eula.”

Eula looked like she couldn’t decide between saying, “Yanfei!” or “Amber!”

Instead, she closed her mouth and shook her head, her eyes closed to allow herself a few seconds to calm down. “I’m going to the inn to get our room key,” she said instead, and Yanfei and Amber looked at each other with pursed lips, hiding their laughter. 

As Eula made her way out of Yanfei’s door, with Amber picking up her bags to follow, Yanfei called out, “Wait!”

They turned to look at her, and Yanfei was already beginning to walk back around her desk to sit down. She gestured over at Amber with a friendly smile. “Amber, could you stay awhile? Not for any trouble, just a bit of your time.”

“Well, um…” Amber looked over at Eula for help.

Eula shrugged. “You can always catch up with me later. I’ll be waiting in our room.”

Then Eula was off, and Amber was sitting down across from a bubbly Liyue legal advisor she was almost certain she had mixed feelings for (which, for the life of her, she couldn’t get why). “Did… you want to ask me something?” Amber asked her awkwardly, and she couldn’t help but flinch back. Now that she was practically certain that the two of them had something going on, she couldn’t help but think that maybe Yanfei was going to ask her to cool off Eula’s back for being too close. She definitely would’ve in Yanfei’s position. 

She sat up straighter when Yanfei closed her gigantic leatherbound book with a resounding thud, which only further proved her hypothesis that Yanfei was here to admonish her. Or kill her. Whichever came first. 

Yanfei caught her staring at her book. “Looks new, doesn’t it?” she said with a beaming smile. Somehow, she found the strength to hold up the book with her hands, showing off the shiny cover to Amber. Amber had to admit that it looked quite fancy.

“It’s the newest edition from Fontaine that my girlfriend got me!” Yanfei gushed, then set the book back down onto her desk. “Fontaine added a bunch of new footnotes last year, but I couldn’t find it anywhere in Liyue because it was backordered.”

But Amber couldn’t listen to anything after a couple words in. Her brain fried like a fish on a grill, and she opened and closed her mouth like one. Then finally, “Girlfriend? You don’t…?”

Yanfei’s smile was peculiar. It curled like she knew something Amber didn’t, and the sparkle in her eyes only pushed that. 

“We’re just good friends,” Yanfei explained, and her subtle emphasis on “just” made Amber quirk an eyebrow. “You know, Eula’s a big ol’ boulder when it comes to other people, but it’s her only way of defending herself. It’s not like she could’ve hired an attorney for this kind of stuff.”

“I know,” Amber said, her voice faltering. “She’s— I was about to say ‘told me,’ but it’s more like I've seen it myself.”

Yanfei bobbed her head in agreement. Her hand ran over the smooth cover of her book in circles. “It’s got her this far, but it has her barricaded from other people who love her, and vice versa.”

Amber tilted her head. “Why are you telling me all of this stuff?” she asked, not unkindly. Only curiously, because the gleam in Yanfei’s eyes told her that her legal advice went far beyond just the legal things in life. 

“Because you and my girlfriend would probably have a blast talking to each other over some food,” Yanfei laughed. “You’re a lot like her. Both of you would do anything to make the people you love happy, except doing things that could make you happy too. It took her about three book slams over the head for that to get through to her.”

“I don’t think I’m following?” Amber said apologetically, scratching the side of her neck with a finger. 

“You’ll know when you get there,” Yanfei said, her lips curling in a smile. She pushed her book to the side to grab a stack of paper to her side. “Can you close your door on the way out? I can still smell Tao’s terrible cooking in the air.”

Amber glanced at the empty food bowl in the corner of her desk. Every bite was gone, leaving only basil leaves and leftover tofu soup, though the charred smell was clearly coming from it. Amber shook her head and laughed. 

Eula was waiting for her by the door. Once the door clicked shut behind her, a silk flower was thrust into her hands. She’s only ever seen these Liyue flowers in the books her grandfather showed her, and its vibrant colors made her gasp. 

“They reminded me of you,” Eula said casually, though she glanced away when Amber looked over at her. “I recall you telling me that you’ve always wanted to see silk flowers, and seeing these again made me understand that you liked them so much because they’re a lot like your… sunny charisma.”

Amber could barely even remember when she did. She wanted to tell Eula that there were lamp grass in Mondstadt that always reminded her of Eula’s ambience, and that she loved them so much for that very reason, comforted by flowers that made her feel the kind of protection only Eula’s presence could pour from her. 

But she only nodded, grinning wide, and let Eula lead them to the inn. She couldn’t understand what could ever possibly summon that large lump in her throat. 

The early bird catches the worm, her grandfather had once said to her. He woke her up for practice almost everyday she was with me, and while Amber had spent more days groaning and fending him off with a lazy arm, she couldn’t be more grateful for his sentiment. 

They’ve slept in the same room before, numerous times in fact, and had once shared a sleeping back for body warmth when they were brought together in Dragonspine. 

Though Eula was accustomed to waking up before the sun barely touched the mountains, before even a bird stirred in Monstadt, Amber would wake up close to an hour before her. Eula’s harsh lines and the setting of her jaw were nonexistent when she slept, replaced by a relaxed look and lips that were left slightly parted in her comfortable sleep. 

Amber would never admit it to anyone in the world, but seeing Eula so peaceful, even in sleep, was a memory that she knew she could paint on a canvas from memory, a feat she couldn’t even do with the many mountains she passed by in Monstadt.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” she said lightly, passing a groggy Eula a mug of steaming tea. There were more tea leaves steeping in the corner of their room, and a portable stove next to it was whistling to announce that their eggs were almost cooked. Or, overly cooked. She could never remember when to take it out. 

“I told you to leave the cooking to me,” Eula complained, opening the stovetop to prod at the charred eggs. 

“You looked so nice when you were sleeping!” Amber argued. “I didn’t wanna just poke you awake so you could make us breakfast.”

“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” Eula declared. She sniffed and made a face, and Amber tried not to feel offended by it. “If you don’t eat anything nutritious in the morning, you’re bound to feel sluggish for the rest of the day.”

“It’s still edible,” Amber said proudly. “Look! The yolk’s still yellow.”

“Scarcely,” Eula mumbled. She yawned and stretched her arms over her head, then pulled out utensils for them to eat on the floor. 

Eating cross-legged on a creaky wooden floor while other tenants in the building snored and went through their daily morning routine was a picture perfect morning for Amber. Complete with a groggy Eula who poked and scavenged for the edible parts in her meal, she couldn’t think of any better place to be. 

Once they had their fill of Amber’s subpar cooking (“Again, please wake me up for breakfast— stab an arrow in my shoulder if you have to,” Eula begged), Amber gathered their dirty dishes and piled them in the corner of the room for her to rinse later. They already talked about the itinerary for the day, so Amber painstakingly cleaned up their strung about things in the room while Eula changed behind her back. 

She turned around when she spotted Eula’s discarded night clothes hanging loosely from her bag. Eula looked obviously tired, her eyes blinking owlishly and the tea’s effects being yet to kick into her system. Her fingers played with the tie around her neck, the dexterity of them being a little less than exiguous. She kept missing the knot entirely.

Amber laughed, walking up in front of Eula to wave off her hands from the tie. She held it up with careful fingers and tightened the knot for her, tilting her head upwards to smile at a frowning Eula. 

“Can’t have you wearing a skimpy looking tie around the Qixing because you were too stubborn to ask for help,” Amber chirped. 

Eula huffed. She loosened the knot, just enough to let herself breathe. “I was going to ask you if it was impossible for me to get it.”

“Sure you were,” Amber said. She took a step back from Eula, the smile graced on her lips not once faltering. She put her hands on her hips and admired Eula’s formal wear. “You look great, by the way.”

Eula cleared her throat, turning her head to look out the window. “You as well, Amber,” she mumbled. Then she stifled a yawn behind her hand, and Amber giggled. 

“You know, you could always try to ask out their Yuheng for a private dinner. I’m pretty sure you have a thing for women in authority.” When Eula shot her a glare, she waved her off with a grin. “I’m just kidding.”

Shaking her head, Eula walked over to the bed to fix a pillow on it. “Good. I’m not into women of her… temperament.”

Amber frowned. “Huh? What kind of women do you like then?”

Then Eula dipped her head, announcing that she was going to find a new tie because her current was much too stifling, and left Amber to watch her scramble in their closet. 

Does that mean she likes the opposite? Amber asked in her head while she remembered that the Yuheng, (Keqing, she reminded herself) spoke seriously and snapped at anyone who dared to fool around in her presence. Who could ever be such an opposite to that?

“Amber.”

“Hm? Yeah?” Amber snapped her head up to Eula, who was looking at her with a stoic expression. 

“Do you remember what I told you last night?”

“Yeah.” Amber paused. “And don’t you remember what I told you?”

Eula looked up at the ceiling, then she let a heavy sigh through her nose. With her eyes still closed and her chin tilted upwards, she said, “You know I can’t bring you.”

“Why not?” Amber asked her, slightly affronted. “You let me come with you for a reason! I could help!”

“I know you can!” Eula shot back. Her eyes softened when Amber frowned at her. “You can hold your own, I’ve seen you do it. It isn’t that I’m worried you’d hold us back, I was just worried something may happen to you.”

“I’m a Knight of Favonius,” Amber reminded her. “It isn’t any different from going on expeditions. So what’s the matter with me coming with you tomorrow night?”

“Nothing, of course, just—” Eula shook her head. “I’m running late. I’m only telling you this once, but if I see you step one foot onto that field, you will pay.”

Though Amber was quite used to her threats and her exaggerations, it was the way Eula looked at her before she walked out of the door that put a shiver down her spine, as if Eula had used her Vision to ice her thoughts. She was serious, for once. 

But Amber was as stubborn as a mule, and there was no way she’d ever let Eula go anywhere alone. 

According to the Qixing, the treasure hoarders were in the middle of a civil war with each other. Moles had informed them that there would be an all out battle the day after, and Eula had only met with the Qixing to discuss ambush formations. Amber was told to stay home, as the sheer number of the treasure hoarders could greatly outmatch the rest of them if they were not careful. 

It was because of that fact alone, that there was a big chance that something could even go slightly awry with Eula while Amber sat in the Harbor like a sitting duck, that had compelled Amber to sneak into the ranks. 

The sea that receded along the coast lapped at her feet as she fired shot after shot, the seasalt in her eyes burning them to tears. 

They reigned victorious in the end. 

Yet, a lone treasure hoarder couldn’t help but get in the last word, and he threw one of his pyro bombs at the celebrating Millelith and knights. 

There was a shout of her name, the ringing in her ears, and the ache in her back from the pressure of being pulled down by a bodied force. 

She had never seen Eula so terrified out of her wits before. 

That fearful look shifted when Amber repeated “I’m fine, I’m fine, look, I’m fine,” at her, though Amber couldn’t place what had banked into the seashores of her eyes. 

Celebrations in Liyue were no joke. Colors scattered the sky, the children screamed and laughed while they pointed and stared, and the men cheered drunkenly and grabbed one another in their newfound camaraderie. The night was by no means young in Mondstadt standards, but the people of Liyue acted as if the sun had just dipped beyond its horizon. 

Perhaps Amber had underestimated the gravity of the situation with their treasure hoarders. She never regretted coming to help, but if she had any residual regrets, she was sure the sight of everyone’s smiling faces would steam it all away. 

Of all the people chatting away at their tables in the high end restaurant the Liyue Qixing had offered the knights, only one face looked more solemn than the rest. 

“What are you brooding about?” she asked lightly, and pulled out the seat next to Eula. 

“I’m not brooding,” Eula grunted, but the glare focused on her glass of wine spoke of a different story. “I declined every offer of wine they brought over to my table before someone set this one down at my table.”

Amber didn’t have to look at it to recognize the shape of the bottle, nor the label plastered on it proudly. “Imported wine from the Dawn Winery?” She whistled lowly, impressed. “This place has gotta have like six stars in their name for them to afford that.”

Eula snorted. She took a sip of her wine. “I wouldn’t think they’d have much in stock anyway. The people of Liyue don’t have the livers we have back home.” She ran a finger over the rim of her drink. “I’ve only drank a glass of this and I already feel the effects. Would you like some?”

Eula’s sincere invitation surprised her. So much so that it took her a couple seconds to gather her thoughts and answer with a meek “Yes,” to which Eula answered by pouring her a glass from the empty pair that the waitress had mistakenly given her. 

Amber gulped down her drink gratefully— she wasn’t one to moderate her drinking, unfortunately. The music was more gentler here than down at the Harbor, yet its grandiose tone was still the same. People of all ages and pairs were dancing together in harmony in the middle of the outdoor restaurant, and it was clear by the way they stumbled around one another and laughed carelessly that most of the dancers were drunk, or at least a little inebriated. 

She glanced at Eula out of the corner of her eye. 

Mournful eyes stared at the figures dancing around, a finger still circling around the rim of her drink. It was clear she was doing it mindlessly, her mind occupied with other things that seemed to sadden her. Amber had the facilities to at least guess. 

“There’s a few lonely bachelorettes sitting alone at other tables,” Amber said slyly. “You could probably ask one of them to dance.”

Eula laughed, though it sounded quite dry and patronizing. “Dancing is the farthest thing from my mind right now,” she said distastefully, and Amber blinked. “Look at them— singing and dancing, as if there aren’t about four dozen men and women in the infirmary right now.”

“You know you can’t blame them for celebrating,” Amber told her, confusion etching itself into her words. “It’s a victory, especially with their economy right now.” I thought you knew that? she wanted to add, but refrained in case it set her off further. 

Eula shook her head. She took a hearty drink of her wine, draining nearly half of its contents. “Had I not been there to get you, there would have been more damage done to you than a bandage hurriedly wrapped around the side of your head.” She sounded bitter, almost. 

Amber put a few fingers up to her forehead. She winced, grimacing at the ache it caused. “Well, yeah,” she said hesitantly. She had no idea how to deal with Eula in this situation— she saw no fault, no reason to get upset. “But it’s just part of the job.”

“People are out here celebrating when one of their comrades had been so close to death,” Eula answered, and asperity in her tone made Amber clamp her mouth shut. “Doesn’t that bother you? Doesn’t that make you want them to pay for what they’re doing?”

The connotation was obvious: Because I sure do. 

And Amber doubted that this was one of her exaggerations. 

“You’re drunk,” she observed instead. 

Eula huffed. “I’d be lucky if I was tipsy.”

“Come on.” Amber got up from her chair, albeit shakily. She was already feeling the warmness of the alcohol spreading to her neck and cheeks. She held out her hand to Eula. “Let’s get that edge off of you. Dance with me!”

Amber had always known that Eula wasn’t one to decline an offer. It only took one pleading look, and Eula was up and about on the dance floor with her. 

Maybe Eula was right about her alcohol tolerance, or maybe dancing had been injected into her soul from a young age, because they were easily the most balletic pair on the dancefloor. While people danced for fun, laughter and stepped toes mingling around them, Eula took it much more seriously than that. The cold hand in Amber’s grip was strong, like they were iced together, or simply that letting Amber go wasn’t an option. The hand on her hip pulled her so close that Amber could practically feel the breath close to her face, though it became lost in the wind that hooped around her while Eula turned and danced them into the endless night. 

It was perfect, the lights were perfect, the eyes on them were perfect, Eula’s intense eyes on her were perfect. 

“Why is it so important for you to find me someone?” Eula murmured, and the perfection of their dance suddenly stumbled on its feet. 

Her heart wrenched, just as a firework crackled into the sky, enticing laughter and gasps from the people surrounding them. Eula didn’t even glance as its colors sprinkled down. 

“I just want you to be happy,” she insisted. 

But she knew why. She always knew why, even if she tried to hide it from herself. 

She knew that she could never make Eula feel as light as her spiraling dances, that there had to be someone out there that Eula was looking at in a way that Amber knew she always looked at her. That fireworks and watching people dance were the warmest things in the world, yet never touched the weight of her love for a woman who looked so strangely to see her.

Eula stared at her oddly. It was a look she’d seen in her friend in passing, but never so prolonged like this. 

“Are you under the impression that I’m not happy with you?” Eula asked, and the sorrow that seeped in her tone made Amber’s chest ache. She wondered if it was the alcohol. “Whatever I did to make you feel like that, dear Amber, I promise you— I would correct all the reprisals in the world for you to never feel that way again.”

Amber can’t help but think back to one of her runs with Jean. One that was left so cryptically until then, a one-sided knowing conversation that now left her with an epiphany so bright that they rivaled the blare of the fireworks. They had taken a break to catch their breaths, and Jean didn’t waste a single puff of air to begin talking about her wife. 

She could recall complaining, though quite fondly, that Jean talked about Lisa more often than her own work. And Jean had laughed, put a hand on her shoulder, and told her that people try to do things for the people they love, even if it hurts them, because they think it's the only way to return the love they were given.

Amber could still remember the morning chill of the air, the blossoming flowers along the Headquarters, and the way Jean smiled at her while she offered her to sit on a bench. She had told Amber to look at the flowers, to memorize how they rustled in the wind. She explained on that chilly morning that when she finally gained the courage to ask Lisa out along that same path, and warned Lisa that she’d always be busy and couldn’t promise perfection, Lisa sat her down next to the pier and told her that love itself isn’t perfect. 

“A flower doesn’t bloom by itself,” Jean told her. “It needs help by getting water, and making sure nothing blocks itself from getting the sunlight, and people need to admire it, thorns and imperfect symmetry and all.”

Jean had taken a deep breath of the air. “Eula had to learn how to grow thorns around herself to make sure no one would ever come and pick her away from her roots, but then you came along and sat yourself down beside her and made her feel loved in all sorts of ways, just by being you. You were a possibility that never crossed her mind, and I’m sure she looks at you that way to make sure you’d never leave it.”

Amber had dismissed her analogies for a newlywed’s ramblings. That her allusion to Eula was just something that crossed her mind. 

But now that she could see Eula this close, could see the walls broken down from all around her from the scares and the exhaustion and the goading of the past few days, Amber could see it.

She could recall Eula telling her that the art of a dance had always been meant to be watched by others, and that the dancer herself kept her eyes closed. 

But Eula’s looking at her. She’s always looked at her. 

“This isn’t an obligation.” And Eula’s eyes glance back up at her. She looked so afraid to be so close to her that Amber nearly kissed her blind. A thumb swiped so gently under her lip that Amber could only shiver. She’s never been so glad to feel cold in her life. “If— if I’ve misread how you’re looking at me, then please, let me—”

“Did I?” Amber asked her softly. She could tell her hand on Eula’s cheek was comfortably warm from the way Eula was closing her eyes. 

“No.” And the admission was said so warmly that all Amber could do was let out a laugh, before she was dipped low under the glow of the moonlight and under the cool colors of the fireworks, and had Eula’s lips pressed like a last step of a waltz to her lips. 

It’s messy and they’re laughing and there are a dozen eyes on them, but the fireworks are beautiful and the hand placed gently on the small of her back is cool to the touch, and it’s perfect.

They dance until her feet hurt, but even then she barely seemed to notice. Not when Eula’s hands and eyes on her were endless, and she never let go.