Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I’m here, darling, I’m here. Just breathe, okay? You’ve done this before, it’s gonna be okay.”

“I can’t! I’m never doing this again!” Aksana swore for what must be the millionth time. “Don’t let me. Please don’t let me. I can’t. I can’t!”

“I won’t make you.” Tihomir tried not to wince as she practically broke every damn bone in his hand, with how tight she squeezed. “...It’ll be over soon, darling. I won’t make you do this again. You’re almost through it now, though, okay? Look at me - it’s going to be okay.”

Aksana squeezed her blue eyes shut. “...The kids, they’re…?”

“They’re with Larissa. They’re okay.” He reached out with his free hand, stroking her cheek. “Pace yourself however you need to, alright? You have time.”

“I can’t do this… I can’t do this!”

“You can.” He assured her. “You’ve brought the three most amazing children ever into this world, you’ll be alright bringing in our fourth. I promise, darling. You can do this, it’s going to be okay.”

Aksana only held on tighter, crying out. Her pale face was laced with pain over the long, arduous hours and late into the night. Tihomir wished there was more he could do for her, wished he could carry the pain for her. He gave her every back and hip rub she asked for, talked and rambled to her about past stories every time she begged for something else to focus on, he stopped talking mid-sentence if she told him to shut up, he held her when she cried about being so rude… it was all he could do.

The night stretched on. Longer than either of them expected. With more tears and more hand-cracking than they wanted. With more silence than they wanted, too, when there should have been cries and cheers and relief and joy all around. A silence that should not have been there and one that stretched far, far too long, long enough that Aksana wailed in agony, that even Tihomir’s heart sank as the thought crossed his mind that this really was it for him and that his attempts to save him were all in vain.

But then the sounds of their baby’s cries pierced through the air, sending Aksana into sobs all over again. Relieved, not heartbroken. Overjoyed, not pained. Grateful, not sorrowful.

And as Tihomir wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and gazed down at their sweet little Ajax, comfortably asleep and breathing and okay in her arms… everything really was just right in the world again.

“She’s waiting inside for you, Your Majesty.”

Pierro gave a nod in thanks, before hurrying towards the chamber his wife set aside for labor and delivery. He’d been in the middle of a meeting with a particularly anxious group of subjects that had recently made their homes on the outside of the established border walls of Khaenri’ah, in the vain hopes of cultivating and securing more resources for the city with some extra space and water at their disposal- a valiant effort, but the attacking monsters outside proved too difficult to fend off even with their best Field Tillers watching over them if there were no walls and arcane wards to take cover behind. And damn it all, the servant that had been sent to alert him about active labor apparently thought it would be wiser to not interrupt his meeting, had waited until after he’d taken his sweet time making a final decision on where these people would be able to stay until they could be rehomed properly and what to do about the remaining resources in their ruined houses.

Pierro tried not to hold it against the messenger as he tugged the door open, passing Sai, his wife’s faithful knight who stood watch, tense enough that it might have made Pierro worry if his anxiety around him weren’t already established as normal - all these years since his arrival from the deserts of Sumeru and proving his worth as her loyal guardian, and Pierro’s presence still continued to unnerve him. That messenger likely thought he’d been doing the right thing and being considerate of Pierro’s time with his subjects, and he looked genuinely disappointed in himself as he stumbled over an apology before he’d left. Not to mention he had more pressing things to worry about.

“Vilde? How are you? Am I too late..?”

A familiar pair of lilac-and-gold eyes found him as he froze in the doorway, a bundle of dark gray blankets already in her arms. Exhausted, drained - even her smile looked frayed at the edges, reserved. “...You were busy. It’s alright.”

Pierro approached slowly, unsure if she even wanted him in the damn room right now if he’d missed the literal birth of his own child- “I’m so sorry, my dear. He didn’t… I didn’t know until after the meeting was over, I came as soon as I could.”

“It is what it is, Pier. Please.” She sounded… surprisingly not that distraught. But then, perhaps that was the exhaustion talking. Oh, his poor, sweet, loving wife, to have endured such pain without him-

“...May I?”

“He’s your son, of course you can see him.”

His son. His own little child. His own love with sweet, beloved Alvilde turned to flesh and blood and brought into the world.

Pierro could hardly breathe as he removed his formal cape and reached his love’s bedside, lowering down to sit next to her and gaze down at…

…At this baby.

He could hardly believe his eyes. Months of all this waiting, all this preparation, months of helping her prepare the nursery and trying to give her the space she needed as she swung between clingy and distant, at times within the hour. All this eagerness, all this struggle to process and accept what was happening, all the worrying and fretting and discussing and…

…And now he understood why she’d carried so much anxiety with this pregnancy.

He had Vilde’s dark hair just barely visible on his head, he had her beautiful eyes, he even bore the mark of Khaenri’ah in one and not the other like the rest of them did.

But Pierro was fair. Vilde was fair. The baby, though…

“...This isn’t my child.”

And as Pierro took a closer look, the shapes he found did not belong to him at all. Hardly even belonged to his wife. The shape of his eyes weren’t round like hers, the form of his nose wasn’t like hers. Not hers, not his, and certainly not like any members of either of their families, either.

“...”

“...Who?” She stroked her baby’s cheek, not even looking at him anymore. “...Who’s child is he, Alvilde?”

“He’s mine, Pierro.”

He couldn’t tell if he was more angry or more heartbroken. Couldn’t tell if he was feeling much of anything right now, to be honest. Couldn’t tell if he wanted to rip into her or walk away.

Who did she spend the most time with? She often locked herself away for long, long hours to practice her magic on her own. It was her dedication that Pierro first fell for as they got to know one another, her discipline in learning her craft that first drew his eyes to her, her confidence that kept him staying put. He’d been amazed that she’d ended up with child at all when she first broke the news, but the timing made sense and it tracked right down to the handful of nights she’d crept out of her study and sought out his company. If she wasn’t in her study, she’d been with him the entire time, no one else was even allowed in there, wouldn’t be allowed through, wouldn’t be let in since her knight was always at the-

“...Sai.”

Alvilde said nothing - but her hold on their baby tightened, as if in protective instinct.

Pierro felt his chest physically cracking in half. And from it poured a million questions - the why’s, the how-long’s, the why-didn’t-you-talk-things-out-with-me’s… but he wasn’t sure it mattered. Whatever he’d done wrong, whatever he hadn’t given her enough of, whatever he’d done that turned her away was evidently too much for her, too much for his beloved Vilde to think there was a chance, that there was something even worth saving.

(It was easier than thinking they were doomed from the start, anyway).

“...What’s the boy’s name?”

He caught Alvilde looking at him a bit warily from under her lashes, barely from the corner of his eye. “...Kaeya.”

Pierro turned to look at her, finding her face shining not with tears, but with sweat. Perhaps from exertion, perhaps from nerves - though he doubted that. Alvilde still didn’t meet his eyes, even as he reached out to tuck the hair plastered to her skin back behind her ear.

He wasn’t sure how a familiar face could look so… foreign. This wasn’t the woman he married. This wasn’t the woman he loved. This wasn’t the woman he’d fought to marry rather than the other suitors that tried to compete for his attention in his earlier years. 

It was. It was her face. And yet…

He leaned forward, kissing her brow lightly before he withdrew, taking his leave.

He’d originally cleared his schedule to be with her. Not just today, but to spend the first week completely with her. He had his advisors and council members that he trusted, not just with his life, but with the entire country of Khaenri’ah, people that he kept close and people who were just as in tune with what his people wanted as he was. He could not justify taking the week to piece himself back together, could not justify being away from his duties for so long over this… but he could quietly take the evening to unravel this mess left behind, to perhaps find a way to move forward.

After all… it’s not as if this going public would do any good in showing the citizens looking up to him how capable he was. If his personal life was this much of a mess over his wife’s affair, who was to say he’d do any better with public affairs? Who would trust such a king?

Tihomir sighed as the crying of a baby roused him from his sleep again. It couldn’t have been more than a short two hours since putting Ajax to sleep - but then, he was used to this routine by now.

He went to sit up, but he felt a hand on his shoulder, turning to find Aksana rubbing her eyes. “Go back to sleep, I’ve got him-,”

“Darling, you’ve barely slept a wink the last few days.” He squeezed her hand, before pulling free and getting up from their bed. “Don’t worry about it. Let me help, try to relax and get some sleep.”

He couldn’t see Aksana’s face, but he’d seen the grateful looks of relief already more times than he could count already since having Ajax. He wasn’t nearly as fussy as Demetri, Damari, and Ana had been, all three fretting at what felt like every minute of every day. Ana especially had been so difficult that the only way Aksana had been able to rest at all had been by changing to a traditional nesting bed meant for omegas and, quite literally, having Ana sleep next to her.

By comparison, looking after Ajax wasn’t nearly as much of a struggle. Draining, of course, that’s just how it was with newborns that needed to be fed and rocked back to sleep just about every two to three hours. But just as it was draining, so, too, was it wonderful.

There was something so strangely peaceful about watching Ajax relax as he gave him the bottle. Something endearing in the way this little bundle of warmth was so at peace when held, so content to nurse whether it was by bottle or by breast so long as he felt safe and cradled. Maybe Tihomir hated waking up as often as he did throughout the night. Yeah, the constant interruptions weren’t pleasant, and when he was tired, all it did was sour his mood even further. But Aksana needed her rest, too, more than even he did with how her body was working overtime to not only provide enough nourishment for their son, but to heal from delivering him. And in the end, he wasn’t sure he could live with himself if he turned his back right now, not just on Aksana, but Ajax, too. Not during such a sensitive time.

He’d spent every minute with Demetri, Damari, and Ana that he could. And still, those early years always flew by so damn quickly. He regretted not spending more time with them when they were still little, in what world could he pass up a chance to both help Aksana out and bond with Ajax?

Yeah, he was tired. But if a little exhaustion is what it cost him to enjoy this time while he still could… well. There were more painful prices to pay out there, he supposed.

And even as Ajax dozed off again and Tihomir carefully lowered him back down into his crib, he found himself wishing that he could hold him just a bit longer.

…

…

(…Perhaps they could discuss bringing the co-sleeping thing back again…)

“...This is where I leave you both.”

Alvilde and Sai glanced at one another, a look of confusion exchanged as Pierro had them halt right at the outermost gates of Khaenri’ah and removed whatever badges and symbols they still dared to wear this far beyond the city walls. “...Out in the Wildlands?”

“Yes.” He could not stand to look at them. “...The punishment for adultery is death, traditionally. But I cannot bring myself to enact the order, nor can I have this getting out as a rumor among my people. Thus, you are exiled from the lands of Khaenri’ah intead.”

“So, too, is Sai banned from the lands of Sumeru.” Alvilde managed a bit shakily, a hand over her mouth. “...He will be shot on sight, Pierro.”

“Then perhaps he ought not to bite the hand that once fed him, if his only other option is to starve.” He crossed his arms. “...The people will be informed of your untimely death, by possession. Should you attempt to return, you will be shot immediately, under the guise of being imposters and not being who you say you are. I cannot stop our guards from defending our nation once they are in action. You would be wise not to return.”

“And what of Kaeya? He’s still-,”

“He stays with me.”

Sai startled into action. “Your Majesty-,”

“He stays. With me.” Pierro cut the knight off. “I am uninterested in explaining to the country why I took my son with me on a dangerous mission and allowed him to die, alongside my wife and her knight. He needed to stay home. Thus, he remains with me.”

“Pierro, please,-” Alvilde tried. “He’s still our child-!”

“Get moving. Before it grows cold and late in the desert.” He pressed his palm against the gate, allowing them to open. Just wide enough for them to pass through. “Consider this the extent of my mercy.”

“I’m not leaving without him!” Vilde insisted, the knight looking torn. “I won’t go! You can’t just decide a kid that isn’t even yours-!”

Pierro took her by the shoulder, gripping even as she recoiled. “Alvilde-,”

“Give me my Kaeya back!”

“It’s time to go.”

“I won’t-!”

“You need to leave.”

“ I won’t stand for this-!”

“Enough-!”

There was a flash before his eyes. He felt a sharp stinging sensation on his cheek.

It hardly even registered.

“Let me say goodbye!” Alvinde was shouting. “Let me at least see him! One last time! What kind of a monster are you?!”

Pierro still wasn’t sure what happened. Only that he could feel the lingering sting of a slap to his cheek. One that spurred him into movement. Enough to grab ahold of her shoulders and push her out.

“Kaeya! KAEYA-!”

Sai tried to grab Alvilde, but Pierro sidestepped him, just enough to send him flying forward and right out the gate and through the portal to Sumeru. Some knight he was, if that’s all it took to trip him.

But then… Pierro supposed it was a miracle he himself was any better right now.

“KAEYA-!”

Pierro could not bring himself to look as he pushed Alvilde through the gate. Could not bring himself to spare her a final glance. Could not bring himself to carve a final memory of her into his shattered heart as he forced the gates shut and sealed them back up.

There was no solace when he returned to his kingdom of metal and mechanics and unholy magics several nights later, alone. The false report about Alvinde and her knight’s death and potential possession he managed to get out took the remaining pieces of his shattered heart and ground them into a mist so fine that air itself feels like solid concrete by comparison. He did not hide the heavy hollowness left behind, did not hide his despair - after all, any loving, doting, wonderful husband would be deeply distraught by the loss of his wife, no? It made sense with the story, and it made the burden just a little easier to carry. Even if it cut the wounds deeper and deeper, with every lie layered to cover for his shortcomings… at least his sorrow wasn’t one he needed to hide.

And when he found Kaeya again in his nursery - cared for by his maids and servants during his trip - he didn’t know whether to cry right alongside him or to walk away.

He was… still her. He could see his sweet, wonderful Vilde in him, pieces of her left behind. Pierro couldn’t decide if he hated it or needed it. Perhaps both.

Kaeya was nigh inconsolable. As if he, too, felt her presence missing from her life, could not understand where she’d gone, as if calling for something that should be there but has been misplaced. Pierro only loosely knew how to soothe him, some bone-deep part of him still nudging him to look after his son. A part he hadn’t even known he had, a son that wasn’t even really his.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d sat there with Kaeya curled up in his arms. He wasn’t sure how long he stared at him, seeing him but not really seeing him. Wasn’t sure how many times Kaeya had dozed off before waking and crying for a mother that wasn’t there anymore. Still wasn’t sure how he felt when the night passed sleeplessly and his personal maids came by to wake him for the day, only to find him seated in the nursery’s rocking chair, little Kaeya sound asleep and curled against him.

…It didn’t undo whatever he did wrong with Alvilde. It didn’t fix whatever he’d missed, whatever he’d been lacking, whatever he hadn’t given enough of.

But it could… still be the beginning of something lovely… couldn’t it..?

After all… Kaeya didn’t do anything wrong. He didn’t ask for this, never wanted this, was just a baby caught in the crossfires.

…A baby that needed him to get it together and step up to the plate again.

“...Ajax? What’s wrong?”

He sniffled as his mama stepped into his room, setting down a laundry basket by the door before reaching him. “It’s…”

She lowered down to sit on his bed next to him, warm hands wiping his face. “..Come now, sweetie. You know we can’t help you if you don’t tell us what’s going on.”

“It’s dumb…”

“Mm, not if you’re crying about it.” She ruffled his hair, the ginger color in his far brighter than her own. “...Did Ana say something to you again?”

He shook his head, tried to force his voice to keep steady. “No! It’s… It’s Melania, she’s…” His voice cracked, his eyes burned, and he realized there was no way he was winning this fight. “She hates me! We’re supposed to do a project together and she won’t lemme help and she makes me do all the baby work cuz she thinks I’m stupid and she doesn’t let me do anything and I’m stuck in a group with her two bestest friends that do all the work but they keep complaining to Mrs. Lagunova that I’m being lazy and now I’m in trouble for not doing anything and she probably thinks I’m lazy too but they won’t let me do anything and-!” A sob cut him off. “They won’t even talk to me if I try to ask if I can do something and now I’m in trouble!”

He had his face in his hands as his mama rubbed his shoulders, leaning into her comfort as he rambled. “Oh, sweetheart… How long has this been going on?”

“Since forever.” He sniffed. “Melania… She always hated me. I dunno why. She just hates me. And it wasn’t bad before cuz’ papa said I should ignore mean people like that because mean people don’t deserve to waste my time even more by taking my thought time but now I can’t.”

“Have you talked to Mrs. Lagunova about it?” He shook his head. “Why not?”

“Cuz she probably won’t even listen, and then they’re gonna call me a tattletale for trying!”

“Who?”

“Melania and her friends!”

“You mean the girls who already don’t like you?” He nodded. “...They already don’t like you, Jax. Does it really matter what they think of you?”

“It does!” He insisted. “Or else the whole town’s gonna think I’m dumb and lazy!”

“Not quite.” His mama chuckled, though not unkindly. “Maybe the mean kids who don’t care to pay attention. But you’re one of the most well-behaved and hard-working kids in this entire town. Everyone knows that you’re always ready to help or cheer someone up around here, Jax. And you wanna know a little secret?”

“...What?”

“Actions speak louder than words.” His mama brushed the hair from his face. “Way, way louder. If everyone sees you being hardworking and wonderful and smart, then it won’t matter if Melania calls you a tattletale. They either won’t believe her, they’ll ask for your side of the story, or they’ll believe her and show you who your real friends are in town.”

“Really..?”

“Mhmm. Really.” She held her pinkie out for him. “Talk to Mrs. Lagunova during lunch or after class tomorrow. I promise you, it’s going to be okay.”

“And if she doesn’t listen?”

“Then tell me or papa, and we’ll talk to her with you. She’ll definitely listen if she sees how serious it is.”

He cracked a small smile as he hooked his pinkie around hers, and shook on it. “...Okay. I’ll… I’ll try, mama.”

She smiled back at him, pulling him into a warm hug and kissing the top of his head.

(Mama’s hugs really were the best and made it all better).

“...You can’t be acting up in meetings like that, Kaeya.”

Kaeya hung his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t going to cut it in the future.” His eyes burned with tears, cheeks with shame. “I understand you’re still learning. But I expect better from you. I’ve not asked you for much, I asked you to sit quietly and tell me at least one thing at the end that you heard and understood. Not… whatever that fit was in there. You’re six years old now, not two. I need you to act like it and be a good role model for the other six year olds watching you.”

Kaeya nodded.

His father sighed, taking hold of his hand and walking them further down the cramped corridor. Kaeya stared at his feet as they moved.

Stupid kids. Stupid meanie-butts. Stupid kids that didn’t want to listen. Why was he always the one getting in trouble, anyways? Why was it always his fault when he did nothing wrong?

His father pushed open a door at the end of the hallway, the smell of damp soil and rock soothing Kaeya as he realized where his father was taking him. He may not have yet learned his way around the entire castle, but the hallways leading towards the stables housing his beloved mara were those that he could practically navigate in his sleep at this point. Damn near had once, if his father’s knight hadn’t caught him sleepwalking and took him back to his room.

The sound of familiar huffs and idle crunching of bones greeted Kaeya and his father as they entered the castle stables, the soothing reek of corruption and meat and blood faint but present all the same. Kaeya didn’t quite have the heart to smile as they passed by the stall his father’s stallion was kept in, even as the bony black equine lowered his head to nuzzle his face in an attempt to cheer him up. He only had time to rub his nose briefly, since his father was still walking. Kaeya whispered a promise to come back with centipedes for him to munch on later, before hurrying to catch up as he stepped into the spare stall across from his stallion.

How he knew Kaeya often hid himself in here, he didn’t know. And wasn’t really in the mood to find out, either. Not when being here alone already made him feel a bit better, enough to plop himself down on the stone floor, back to the farthest wall. It’s been an unoccupied stall for long enough that the bedding hadn’t been replaced at any point, long enough that the floor was dusty at most and not that dirty, but he was still surprised as his father carefully slid down to sit next to him.

“You’ve been off lately.” Kaeya shrank under his father’s observation. Was it that obvious? “Is there something I should know about?”

“...No.” He tried.

“Sindre thinks you’ve been falling behind in your training.”

“...Really..?”

“Mhmm.” He hated feeling his eyes on him, hated the weight of being watched. “Does it have anything to do with why you burst into tears back there?”

“...Sigurd’s really mean.” Kaeya eventually spat out. “He makes fun of me a lot. He never listens to me even when I’m in charge. He never lets me talk. And he makes fun of me every time I get an answer wrong when we share lessons! I hate him. And his father’s really mean, too.”

“What does Sigurd say that’s so mean?”

“He says I’m just a disappointment and a fake.” He hated feeling watched, but he probably hated those stupid, stupid tears on his cheeks even more, the stuffiness in his nose… everything about crying was awful! “He says… He says I dunno anything and I’ll never be a good enough prince and…!”

“...And?”

“...He says you should have..!” Kaeya frowned. “It was… um… you were supposed to do something to me. And it was a word that started with an ‘A,’ but the tutor scolded him for saying something so awful and she never wants to hear it ever again. It was the only time he ever got caught being mean and she doesn’t believe me anymore when I try to tell her about the other stuff he says!”

His father sighed. “What does that have anything to do with the meeting today?”

“Because his father said the same word! But it was to you!” Kaeya fretted, rubbing his face. “He was saying these mean things right at you! And if he’ll do it to the king, then that means Sigurd is gonna do it to me when I’m king, too! It’s never gonna end! I can’t make it go away!”

“What word was it?”

“It started with an ‘A.’ And, um…” Kaeya sniffled, trying not to rub his face with the edges of his sleeves, but he was pretty sure he was gonna get scolded for that anyways. “...Um, you and him were… you were talking about a mission. And he said you needed to do the A-thing when you were…. When you were talking about the secret spies.”

“Secret…?” A moment as Kaeya tried to recollect- “...Did Sigurd say ‘abort?’”

Kaeya couldn’t stop the sob that came out. His father sighed at his lack of an answer.

“Oh, good grief… Listen to me, Kaeya. Breathe a second already, you’re going to choke on your own tears like this.” Kaeya tried to force himself to breathe, but wasn’t going well when the air wouldn’t go in- “Count with me. Five seconds to breathe in, five to hold it, eight to let it out. Come on.”

He did, he honestly did, he really, truly tried-

“You need to pull yourself together.” His father continued. “People are mean and say nasty things just to make you cry. The world is a mean, mean place. People are always going to be saying nasty stuff about you. They say nasty stuff about me all the time, too, you know that?”

“Like… Like what?”

“That I’m a bad king. A bad ruler. I’m stupid and I’m dumb and I am absolutely not fit to lead Khaenri’ah.” His father reached into his pocket, reaching for a handkerchief before scooting closer and wiping Kaeya’s face despite his meek protests. “There’s all sorts of other things. But that’s just part of life when you’re king. And for now, you’re not a king yet. You’re not grown. You’re still practicing to take the throne, right?”

“Right…”

“Then you’re practicing how to deal with all this, too.” Pierro explained. “You have to grow thicker skin, Kaeya. I really have no other advice for you. It’s going to hurt, and you have to know how to take it.”

“Then… How do you take it, father?” Kaeya sniffled.

His father hummed in thought for a moment. “...It depends on the situation. If someone is insulting me just to bother me, I ignore it. If someone is trying to tell me I’m doing a bad job, I have to listen, first, and decide if they’re right or if I’m doing the best thing already. If they’re doing something super wrong, like what Sigurd said about aborting… that’s when I have to shut him down and stand up for myself or for someone else.”

Kaeya pulled away from the handkerchief. “Then why didn’t you shut his father down today?”

“Because words matter, but how they’re used matters even more. Do you remember learning how a word can mean different things?” Kaeya nodded. “And do you remember how you learned to decide which meaning you’re meant to use?”

“Mhmm.”

“This is exactly that.” His father brushed the hair out of his face, pulling back even as Kaeya wished he didn’t. “The way Sigurd talked about aborting someone - you - was horrible and mean. It’s the same as saying I should have killed you. The way Lord Haakon was saying it is not only less horrible, but also normal.”

“...Really..?”

“Yes.” His father unclasped his high-collared cloak. “Abort means to end something prematurely, usually due to an unexpected problem. We needed to abort our spy operation in Liyue because our spies could not effectively navigate their governing laws and blend in seamlessly, it was too rigid and there were too many suspicious eyes cast upon them.”

“...Wait, so… Sigurd said you should end me early..? Because I’m a… a problem…?”

His father reached around him with his cloak. “Effectively, yes.” A cloak he wrapped around his shoulders as Kaeya cried again, face hidden in his hands. “...I told you. People are going to be horrible and mean to you. And you need to learn how to ignore the things that don’t matter in the end.”

“He thinks I need to die!” Kaeya’s voice shook. “He-! He thinks I gotta go!”

“Does it matter what Sigurd thinks?” He adjusted the cloak, pulling it tight around him. “Tell me, Kaeya. If he says and thinks a bunch of horrible mean things that don’t make you a better prince, and he doesn’t do anything to try to hurt you or make things better for the country… does it really matter what he thinks?”

“...No…”

“Exactly.” He wiped his face again. “You need to let it go, Kaeya. He’s not going to be the last of the bullies you meet in life - far from it, and there’s only so much we can do against bullies without making even bigger problems. Crying about it in front of a bunch of other nobles in the middle of a meeting is only going to make the bullying worse, because now, Lord Haakon is going to go home and talk about it and Sigurd is going to taunt you even more for acting like a baby. You don’t want that, do you?”

He shook his head.

“Do you understand now why I always tell you to only cry in safe places?” A nod. “Do you remember which ones those are?”

“...At home. And only around family.” Kaeya called back, rubbing his face as he sniffled. “Or alone.”

“Good. Remember that in the future.” He stood from the stall floor. “Let this be a lesson for you, and let Sigurd’s bullying be a test for you. It’s going to hurt and it’s not going to be pleasant and you’re going to want to cry - I need to see you learn how to let it roll off your shoulders, and I need to know you won’t make it worse for yourself by acting out and giving him more to tease you about. I learned how to do all this around your age, too, and I’m not that special. If I can do it, you can, too.”

“...Okay.” His father offered him a hand, and Kaeya took it. The cape pooled around him at his feet, so he pulled and folded it around his shoulders to keep from dragging it over the stable floor. “...I’ll be better, father.”

“Good. Now, why don’t you summarize the meeting for me? What did you understand?”

“Um… It was a meeting about the spies in… In Liyue?” An encouraging nod as they moved to walk out of the stables, only pausing for long enough for Kaeya to pet his father’s mara in farewell when he dipped his head again. “The lords in there were mad, cuz their sons went out on this mission and some of them got caught and can’t get home. And they’re also mad cuz they think you’re giving up on what you said was a super important mission. You said you weren’t giving up, but you also said you couldn’t send out more people to Liyue, cuz we have no more spies left and it seemed like a…. Um, what’s a ‘soo-side mission?’”

“Suicide mission.” His father offered as clarification, before explaining further. “It’s when a mission is so outrageously dangerous that by agreeing to go, you’ve effectively agreed to die.”

“That’s why you don’t wanna send more people to Liyue?” He nodded. “...Why don’t you send people somewhere else, then?”

“We don’t have people to send, remember? The spies we sent to other countries haven’t returned yet, and the ones that got caught in Liyue are stuck there right now.”

“Oh. Right.” Kaeya found himself slowing down, wanting to linger among the stalls a while longer, but… he didn’t want to make his father mad, either, and reasoned he could come back on his own later, so he caught up to his pace again. “...Which countries have you gone to so far?”

“Sumeru and Fontaine are the only countries we’ve been truly able to truly infiltrate so far.” His father let go of his hand. “Inazuma and Liyue are both deeply traditional, and are also tight-knit among one another. For a stranger to appear, it already sets alarm bells ringing - but to attempt to steal an identity is even more risky. That leaves only Mondstadt left on the table, as far as nations we will attempt to get informants into.”

“Not Snez… Sn… The cold one?”

“Snezhnaya.” His father corrected him. “We will not attempt anything for the time being. We do not know enough about their Archon to risk it just yet. Some say she cares deeply for the people, and others get the sense she has no love left for any of her subjects. Until we know how closely she watches over her nation and are able to plan moves accordingly, the risk isn’t worth it.”

“Then what about Mondstadt? Why has nobody gone yet?”

“Because their god loves Mondstadt.” His father frowned, brow furrowed in thought. “We have reason to think he knows all that goes on in his land, too - if there is wind, there is likely communication. We would need to send someone that even he wouldn’t think to pry too deeply into, someone that doesn’t even look…”

His father paused mid-step, and Kaeya nearly stumbled into him, startled. “...Doesn’t even look..?”

“Khaenri’ahn.” He turned, finding considering, heavy eyes on him.

“...Father? What is it?”

“...It’s nothing. Come.”

“Oh… Okay…”

“...presented last week. Her mother is just as surprised as any of us were, she never seemed like the omega type, but they’re proud all the same.”

“Mhmm, as they should be.” His father continued as Ajax bounded into the dining room. “You have to have at least a hundred screws loose not to be.”

“Why’s that?” Ajax piped up as his parents glanced down at him.

“Because Lena presented as an omega.” His mama explained as his papa ruffled his hair in greeting.

“Wait, really?!”

A chuckle. “Really. She’s very lucky, and so are her mama and papa.” She tapped her chin. “...Say, Tihomir. Who was the last one who presented as an omega? Before Lena.”

“Can’t be sure.” Ajax reached up, and his papa allowed him to sit in his lap with him, adjusting the hold on his teacup as to not spill any of the still-steaming tea. His papa was just the best, he was so thoughtful! “I think it must have been Andrei. But I think that was even before we met.”

“Really?” His papa hummed in confirmation. “I could have sworn someone had their first heat here. We did a whole mini party a few days after and everything. It was the time I dropped the medovik on the way there, remember? But who was it for?”

“No, it was a welcoming party.” His papa reminded her. “Also for Andrei, but that was to welcome Dragan when he moved in.”

“...Oh, that’s right, it was just after they mated, yes?” His papa nodded. “I’m still surprised he waited so long to mate. You’d think he’d have found someone a bit sooner. Poor thing, he’s been having a hard time having kids now. He’d make such a good mama, it’s such a shame.”

“Too many suitors to pick from, I imagine.” Ajax lay his head against his chest, fond of how it rumbled as his papa spoke. “You know how it is, too many alphas and not nearly enough omegas. It’s a wonder the cities still run at all, you’d think the people would have torn each other into shreds if even one’s gone into heat. I don’t know how they do it.”

“Their mamas raised them right, that’s how.” She smiled fondly. “...Did you need something, Ajax?”

He shook his head. “No… Demetri and Ana were busy fighting and I didn’t wanna be with them anymore. I thought I’d say hi and check on her, but Damari isn’t feeling well, and I thought it’d be better to go away for a bit…”

“Daimon.” His papa corrected gently. “Still not moving much, I take it?”

“Oh, um… not really.” Ajax frowned. “...I wish I could make it all better. It looks like it hurts.”

“I should go check on Daimon.” His mama sighed. “I’ll be getting started on chicken for today’s dinner soon. Why don’t you help me out with it tonight, Ajax? I think you’re old enough to start learning how to cook a little bit.”

“Oh! Really?”

“Mhmm.” His mama’s smile softened as she stood, reaching around the table to ruffle his hair. “We’ll get started in a few minutes once I’m back, okay?”

“Okay!”

Kaeya’s eyes widened as he wandered through the stalls of the literature festival. Between workshops and open stage plays, of authors talking about newly-published books he hadn’t even heard of and debates on old classics he knew by heart at this point.

He wasn’t supposed to be here. If any guard’s eyes linger on him for too long, he was going to get sent back. But it wasn’t his fault there was a perfectly good gap in the courtyard wall he could slip out of! And it wasn’t his fault that the festival had looked so lovely from his view in the castle! Even all the way there, he could see people in costumes of tales he could recognize a mile away. And a lovely festival full of lovely stories to make him a lovely prince… Of course he had to go! That hole basically gave him permission anyways.

Kaeya pulled the cloak tighter around himself, lowering his face as he tried to make his way towards one of the plays currently put on but-

“Oh no you don’t-!”

“Eep-!”

A hand wrapped around his wrist as Kaeya squeaked in surprise, face burning as he turned to face-

“What are you doing here?” Dainsleif hissed as he pulled Kaeya into a gap between buildings. “Have you lost your mind?”

Kaeya pulled at his hand. “Please don’t tell father! I’ll be good, I promise, just don’t tell him-!”

“I have to tell him, Your Highness.” He sighed. He looked strange without his armor and usual regalia on, why did he leave it today? “His Majesty will never forgive me otherwise.”

It was desperate, it was stupid, but as far as Kaeya was concerned, any shot was better than none right now.

“Lemme see the festival just this once and I’ll be extra good! I’ll tell him you did a super good job chasing me around everywhere!”

Dainsleif raised a brow. “...Are you trying to bargain with me?”

“No, I’m just giving you a deal. Promotions are good, right?”

“...Your Highness, I am already your father’s most trusted knight.”

“Oh…”

Dainsleif glanced around.

“...Can we still see the festival..? Please..?”

“Why do you want to see it so badly?”

“Because it’s all about stories. And stories are supposed to make you a better person. So I gotta read and see every story I can to be the best prince ever.” Kaeya declared. “Father says I need to do better. So I’m gonna be better.”

Another glance around. “...You can choose one play or one activity. I have to take you straight back after it’s over and you only have five minutes to pick one. We sit in the back, and you cannot let go of my hand no matter what, unless I say so.”

Kaeya stuck his hand out. “Deal!”

Dainsleif sighed. Kaeya wasn’t sure what he was so annoyed about when he got exactly what he’d asked for. But he still shook on it, which means their deal is sealed and Kaeya needed to get going.

He tugged Dainsleif’s hand, not wanting to get slowed down. The play he was about to go see was maybe half-way through already, which meant he needed to find an activity that was about to start first or pick a different play.

Otherwise, he’d be going back to the castle way too soon, right..?

“...Oh! Papa, look! The line’s jumping!”

He chuckled as Ajax bounced in his seat, taking hold of his fishing pole. “Easy, Jax. The ice might be thick, but you don’t want to test it too much, do you?”

“Oh… Sorry, papa.”

He reeled in in the line, hands working steadily and almost more off muscle memory before-

Ajax pouted. “It got away!”

“Then that just means it was strong enough to escape, right?” His papa laughed, warmly enough to take the sting from the windchill. “Have you been watching yours?”

“Mhmm. It isn’t moving, though…”

He reached over, pausing on attaching new bait to the line and instead rubbing Ajax’s back lightly. “Have patience. Sometimes, I go entire days without anything biting - other times it’s only a few minutes.”

“Entire days..?” Ajax moaned. “Nothing’s ever gonna bite if I get unlucky enough, then?”

Tihomir laughed again, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. Or, rather, his hat. “You keep bait in water for long enough and something will eventually bite, Jax. Don’t ever forget that.”

“...Okay.” He smiled up at him, seeming to have cheered up a little. “I guess it can’t hurt to wait a little bit more, then.”

“That’s the spirit.”

“...And this means ‘good night,’ right?”

“Good. You’ve done well.”

Kaeya gave a timid smile in response to his father’s rare praise. “My Mondstadtian is coming along okay..?”

“It is. Your magic suppression lessons are going well, too, according to Sindre.” Kaeya frowned as his father’s face fell. “...You’re sufficiently prepared for your mission.”

“My mission?”

“Mhmm.” He stood, extending a hand to Kaeya. “...You’re an innocent child, and one that doesn’t immediately look Khaenri’ahn, either. And if this kingdom wants a shot at survival… you really are our last hope, Kaeya.”

He took hold of his fingers after a moment, allowing his father to walk them out of the study. “...I have to save Khaenri’ah?”

“Precisely.” A squeeze of his hand. “It’s about time you start stepping into your role as the future king of Khaenri’ah - and as you know, ensuring the safety and future of our people are the biggest priorities for a king. As such, I am tasking you with helping secure Khaenri’ah’s safety and future with your newfound training.”

“Oh… Okay! I’ll do it, father.” Kaeya grinned. “If Khaenri’ah and you need me, then… I’ll do it.”

His father’s smile at him was… sad…?

…What was he so sad about…?

“...Father, come quick!”

Kaeya winced at the boy’s shouting, recoiling, practically pulling away.

But the strange redhead only gripped onto his hand tighter. “No, no, don’t be scared! It’s okay!”

His eyes watered, letting the fear rise to the surface. Letting the anxiety pale his face. Letting the approaching near shut-down become clear, visible-

“What is it?” An older voice called out, and Kaeya pulled even harder, but the boy’s grip on him was iron-clad. “What’s wrong-? Ah.”

Kaeya found himself full-on crying as a man appeared before him, looking identical to the boy he’d run into but older. His father, if he’d understood him correctly.

The man knelt down. “Easy there, kid. Breathe, you’re fine.”

He cringed from his hands, but they were… warm.

His father said something about fiery people. Was this the family he was supposed to be watching from..? They didn’t look like royalty… but then, considering Kaeya’s own borderline rags right now, he of all people knew to be wary of deceiving looks.

“...There you go, just breathe. What’s wrong?”

Kaeya stared at him with a wide eye, unregistering. His Mondstadtian training was… a bit rough. A bit rushed. He did get the gist of what he was saying, especially with the tone and body language to give him some extra context to work with… but that didn’t mean these people had to know he knew. That’s what his father had advised to him, right?

“...You don’t understand a word I’m saying, do you, kid?” The older man laughed. “Ah, well. It is what it is.” He turned to face the other boy. “Did you see anyone else around, Diluc?”

“No.” The boy rocked back and forth on his feet. “I saw him while I was catching butterflies. And then he tried to run but I chased after him cuz it sounded like he was hurt. I think something’s wrong with his ankle, dad.”

The man looked him over, before straightening and offering Kaeya a hand. “C’mon, kid, I need to see how you’re standing.”

Kaeya took his hand, allowed him to pull him up. The man let him go, watching how he stood, where his weight shifted.

“...Hm. Looks a little tender, but he’s not standing too funny.” He started walking away, gesturing for Kaeya to follow, and he hobbled along forward. “I don’t like how that limp looks though. Good eye, champ - it’s good to see you so attentive of those who might be in need around you.”

The boy - Diluc - absolutely beamed at the words, nearly brighter than the giant star in the sky - the sun - that initially blinded Kaeya upon his arrival, eased and tolerable only thanks to the eyepatch his father left him with. 

“Come, let’s get you somewhere safe for now.” The man continued, extending a hand out to Kaeya again and chuckling as Kaeya made a show of eying it. “It’s all gonna be okay, little one. We’re just here to help, alright? Come on, let’s get moving.”

Kaeya eventually took his hand again, even allowing the man to carry him. He’d far rather not be held by strangers like this, but… well… It sold the story. He’d already walked off the worst of the injury, but it seemed like it was making him more approachable if something hurt, so he figured it was best to lean into it for now.

“...Something’s not right.”

Tihomir frowned at Aksana’s comment from where he sat at the dining table, made half to herself as she set the plate down that she’d just finished drying. “I thought something felt off, too. Can’t pinpoint it for the life of me, though.”

Aksana found herself starting to pace around the kitchen. “...Demetri’s gone hunting, Daimon’s out in the garden, even Ana’s been quiet and she’d gone for a nap after knitting, Tonia and Anthon are out in the garden with Daimon…” She paused. “...Ajax never came downstairs.”

“That’s right, he slept through breakfast. He was up late with Demetri last night.”

“He… what? No, I put him to bed at a normal…” A sigh. “...They snuck out to go fishing again, didn’t they. Why didn’t you stop them if you knew?”

A chuckle. “I only noticed when they got home already. A bit late for me to do anything by then.”

“Archons, Tihomir, it’s never too late to scold them if you explain what you’re scolding them for.” Aksana sighed. “I’ll go check on Ajax. He might have come down with a cold, the weather’s really been cooling lately.”

“I can get started on soup, if you’d like.” He offered. “Even if Ajax isn’t coming down with anything, it wouldn’t hurt to make it for dinner tonight.”

“If you wanted me to make soup for dinner, you could just ask.” Aksana chuckled as she approached him. “You don’t need to justify it with colds.”

“Mm, I know.” He reached up to graze her cheek, and Aksana leaned down to kiss him lightly. “But it did remind me just how much I enjoy your soup. I do associate sickness with it, after all.”

“Well, if you can take out the veggies for it and wash them for me while I’m checking on Ajax, then I’ll go ahead and make soup with them.” She threw him a final smile before making her way out of the dining area. “Ah, and the chicken, too. There should be leftovers in the fridge that’ll do nicely.”

“Of course, dear. Give me a shout if you need anything.”

Aksana hurried up the stairs.

And that was when the smell first hit her. Something sickly sweet, something painfully floral - something familiar, but with a fresh twist to it that she hardly knew what to make of. It was faint at first - with how thick the walls were, it was no surprise that scents from inside were dampened significantly. But as it grew stronger and stronger, Aksana found herself more and more… not quite anxious or stressed, but absolutely on high alert. Like there was a small baby animal, fragile and delicate and in desperate need of someone to look after them while growing.

A feeling from a scent so sweet that she knew all too well.

She knocked lightly on the door. “Ajax..? Are you alright in there, sweetheart?”

She heard something shifting, several soft things thumping against the ground, and a muffled response that she couldn’t make out.

“...I’m going to open the door, okay? I can’t hear you.” No reply, so she cracked the door open just enough to hear properly. “...Jax?”

“Mama…” She heard him sniffling, sounding shaken and rattled down to the core, borderline sounding barely four in place of a summer shy from fourteen. “Everything… too warm. Wrong...”

His scent hit her in full force. She knew better than to invade his room at a time like this, but she also found herself hesitant to leave. “...Do you want me to stay?”

“Please… Don’t go…?”

That was answer enough for now. They could discuss it properly once Ajax was back to his usual self.

Aksana finally opened the door just enough to let herself through, shutting it quickly behind her as to not let the scent of heat drift too far into the house. She made sure she was slow and obvious as she approached Ajax’s bed, a pile of pillows and blankets and stuffed animals that threatened to spill over the edge, considering it wasn’t a proper omega nesting bed built to allow for a nest. They’d have to discuss that later, too. “I’m here, sweetie. I’m here.”

Ajax poked his head out from under the blanket he hid himself under, reaching out a hand that Aksana took hold of. “Please stay… please..?”

“I need to let your papa know I won’t be able to make dinner.” Ajax whined as she squeezed his hand. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Please…”

Aksana’s heart ached seeing him like this. “...Just a minute, sweetie. Hang in there for me, okay?” Ajax’s eyes watered as he retracted his hand, and Aksana slid her cardigan off her shoulders, offering it to him. “...Take this for now. I have to come back to get it or I’ll get cold. I promise you, I’ll only be a minute. Okay?”

“...I keep it safe..?”

“Yes. Keep it safe for me, sweetie.”

Ajax took hold of her cardigan, hugging it close. “...Okay.”

“Good. Just wait a minute for me, Jax.”

“Okay.”

Aksana hurried back downstairs. Tihomir looked caught somewhere between surprise and joy and pride as she explained why, exactly, she wasn’t going to be making dinner. And, thankfully, he was ready to jump in and make something instead, though Aksana never really doubted he would.

Ajax slumped with relief as she returned, a pitcher and a couple glasses in her tray as well. He didn’t want any water, but Aksana knew it was only a matter of time. She originally thought she’d just be sitting with him, but then Ajax begged her to hold him, and who was Aksana to refuse at this point?

“Relax, sweetheart.” She offered as she idly ran her hands through his hair, head in her lap like he once did as a young child. “It’ll be over soon enough, okay?”

“It… feels wrong…”

“I know. I’m sorry, Jax. First heats are always the hardest.” She sighed. “It’ll get better in time though, I promise. I’ll be right there with you the entire time, don’t be afraid.”

He turned to look up at her, before raising a hand with his pinkie out.

Aksana quietly hooked her own around it, which seemed to calm Ajax down. So much so that she could hear the beginnings of a rumbling purr in his chest, and - bless his heart - he seemed either too tired or too out of it to even realize what was happening.

She went back to stroking his hair carefully, and eventually, it lulled him to sleep.

“Are you really sure?” Kaeya nodded, even as Crepus frowned. “...Alright, then, if you really feel like you’re ready, then you can go by yourself. But, please - make sure you’re back before it’s dark out. Or Diluc and I will go looking for you.”

He put on his most charming smile. “I’ll be back by then, dad. I promise.”

Crepus patted his leg before stepping away. “Ride safe, then. I’ll see you soon, Kae.”

“Mhmm! See you soon!”

Crepus waved as Kaeya nudged his pony forward, ambling his way from the stables as he rode off into the afternoon.

Supposedly, it was just a trail ride. Diluc had been allowed to ride by himself for the first time two weeks ago, and Kaeya took it as his opening to head off on his own, too, once a little time had passed. Crepus, to his irritation, had been hesitant to let him go on his own at first, citing his worries about him getting hurt. But then Kaeya had the bright idea to slip some cheese into Diluc’s omelet this morning when Adelinde hadn’t been looking - not enough to get him entirely sick, but enough to throw him off, and upon winning their sparring match today, had insisted that if Diluc was strong enough to ride safely on his own and he beat him, then so was he. Crepus hadn’t been able to argue against logic that sound, and finally, finally, Kaeya could get some space on his own in a way that didn’t raise any eyebrows. Wandering around on foot seemed like it would get Crepus and Diluc suspicious, especially if he denied their usual offered company along the way - but a ride so he could enjoy quality time with his pony and not worry about another rider nearby? That didn’t seem to arouse any suspicion.

It didn’t make much sense to Kaeya why exactly a ride alone was different than walking alone. But he wasn’t really in a position to question it, not when the important part was that he could turn this into a routine and make it seem even less out of the ordinary. His father would certainly appreciate it if he managed to get reports back more regularly - that much he knew.

When Kaeya felt like he was out of view from the Winery, he spurred his pony into a proper gallop. Archons, he’d missed this. She wasn’t like the mara back home, far too small and not nearly aggressive enough, but her gait was familiar to him like the back of his hand, and he had to admit, riding on a wider and properly well-rounded back like the mara of his world had - or, rather, the ponies and the horses that the people of Mondstadt preferred - made for a far more pleasant experience. Not to mention that maintaining them was far easier when they didn’t eat corrupted meat. Spending time at the stables was an even more pleasant experience when the smell of manure came from…

…Omnivores, they’re called?

No, wait. That’s for those that eat meat and plants. 

Vegetarians..? Because they ate vegetation..? Or was it herbivores..? But they don’t eat herbs..?

…Either way, the equine experience around Mondstadt was far more pleasant. Honestly, nearly everything was pleasant around here. So pleasant and easy that Kaeya still barely trusted it. A nation this peaceful and this quiet… and all it took was submitting to a bunch of Archons that could do what they wanted at any time..?

Archons that could take all of this away? Just because? On a whim? For amusement?

Life was rough in Khaenri’ah. It was manageable within their warded city walls, and with the technological advancements his homeland ran on, it was liveable, too. The wilds of Khaenri’ah were another story altogether, those were downright inhospitable save for the strongest among their ranks - if that. A constant state of fighting away the creatures that attempted to break in, a constant defense from the uncontrollable chaos of what lived beyond their walls, but it was all theirs. Fought for with every shred of life laid down in its defense, but it was still theirs.

Mondstadt, though… Mondstadt lay at the mercy of Barbatos’ whims and desires. And sure, he seemed willing to protect these lands - he must be, if they haven’t been wiped out, yet. But would he really still hold the same tune if his people decided to cast him out? All this talk about the Anemo Archon came back to freedom and choice… and yet, the moment his people decide to do away with freedom and lock their walls down and cast their Archon out, what then? Was Kaeya really meant to believe this Archon would really just… let go of his lands like that? Really?

As if.

Kaeya reached his destination beneath the mountains leading towards the Stone Gate and Liyue, carefully dismounting and finding a grassy patch nearby. He’d chosen a bitless bridle for this exact reason, knowing how content this particular pony is to stay in one area if she has grazing space. She put her head down immediately to start grazing as he crept into the small cave - it must have been at least a year since he got the instructions, but the opening was right where his father had instructed him, where to visit on Friday afternoons to get in contact. He wouldn’t be that surprised if the year of silence meant no one was actually here waiting for him, wouldn’t be surprised if he was taken for dead and abandoned as another failed spy.

But sitting there in this damp, cramped save was a sight so familiar that Kaeya found himself damn near crying as he scrambled forward-

“Your Highness-,”

“Dainsleif-!”

“I’m sorry!” Kaeya started immediately, only just remembering to keep his voice down - there was no wind in this cave, but far better safe than sorry. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t get away alone and I had to make sure they trusted me and I didn’t wanna get caught and I-,”

“Shh, quiet.” Dainsleif pressed a finger to his lips. “It’s alright. I knew it would take you a long time.”

“...You were really waiting this whole time..?”

“Mhmm.” He pat his shoulder, a bit stiff in the way Dainsleif always seemed t be. “Every Friday afternoon, just like you and His Majesty agreed.”

“And you’re… you’re not mad..?”

“No.” A sigh. “I could never be angry with you.”

“Is… Is everything back home okay?” A nod. “Is father..?”

“He is alright. No signs of the Abyss corruption taking over anytime soon.” Dainsleif assured him. “He still has many years ahead of him on the throne. You needn’t worry.”

On the one hand, it was good that his father was fine. On the other, it stung to know he wasn’t bothered by his departure from home.

But then… he’d been the one to send him away in the first place. It made sense it didn’t rattle him very much.

“Will you be coming more consistently?” Kaeya nodded. “I’m relieved to hear it. I was worried about you.”

“...Crepus and Diluc are nice people. They won’t hurt me.” Kaeya assured him. “And the Archon hasn’t bothered me, either. I don’t know if he knows, but… as long as he doesn’t do anything, then it… should be okay, right?”

“In theory. He doesn’t seem to be the type that plans too far ahead, though it’s best to stay careful - you never know what might be hidden, right?” Kaeya nodded again. “Now, tell me. What have you learned?”

“Um… A lot.” Kaeya admitted. “I can’t be out here for super long, I’ve learned so much about Mondstadt.”

“Then start with your biggest observations. If we need to continue this meeting next week, we can.”

“...You’ll be here?” Dainsleif hummed in affirmation. “...Okay. Then, we can do that.”

Dainsleif leaned forward just a little, attentive as Kaeya launched into what he’d noticed about Mondstadt in his time here so far.

“Archons, Ajax! Don’t ever run off like that again! Three whole days, really?! Hey! Do you hear me?!”

Ajax recoiled at his mama’s shouting, her voice far, far too loud in his ears. Really, everything was too loud in his ears, the world too bright and fuzzy and unfocused as he swayed on his feet-

“Ajax!”

He hissed as she caught him, arms burning, burning into his skin- “Let me go!”

“You can’t even stand, how are you meant to-?”

He didn’t even realize what he was doing. He hadn’t meant to hit her, to hurt her. It stung his hand and heart just as much as it must have stung her, too, but fuck, what was he supposed to do when he felt like he was going to boil alive-?

“I SAID LET ME GO!”

He fell to the ground, scrambling away from her.

He didn’t know how he fell in. He didn’t know how he got out. Three months in waters so ancient and frigid that even the autumnal Snezhnayan air felt like it was too warm. He wasn’t sure even winter would be cold enough for him. 

Ajax clawed at his face, like he could wake himself up, like he was waking up from a nightmare - but the past three damn months had been a nightmare-?

Three days-?

That wasn’t-!

He realized his mama had taken hold of his wrist-

“I don’t know what’s gotten into your head, but we’re going home and we’re going to have a nice chat with papa about this.”

He dug his heels in as she tried to drag him away. “Stop! Let go of me, please-!”

“Stop being so dramatic-,” Ajax yanked at her hand- “Hey-! Knock it off-!”

“It hurts!” He shouted, cringing at the loud wrongness of his own hoarse voice. “It fucking hurts, please, stop-!”

His mama let his wrist go again as he hugged his arm to his chest. He half-expected to see a circling burn mark around his wrist now, but upon inspection, there wasn’t anything there.

“...We’re going home.” His mama repeated, a bit more bearable this time as she lowered her voice. Still painfully uncomfortable to his ears, but she wasn’t shouting anymore at least- “Don’t make me drag you back-,”

“I’m coming, mama, I swear.” He felt the telltale pinpricks in his eyes, dread sinking into his stomach as he fought to keep them from coming, to keep from being scolded for it, to keep from attracting the wrong thing that might otherwise come after them- “I’m sorry. I didn’t-,”

“Later.” She cut him off, turning sharply on her heel.

…Right. He wasn’t in… He wasn’t in that… that nightmare anymore. He wasn’t with…

…But his mama probably didn’t want to see him cry right now either, did she.

Ajax trailed after her, casting a final glance behind him.

No sign of… of whatever the hell he’d fallen into. No sign of whatever let him out. Just something… blue..?

“Wait.”

His mama scowled as she turned to face him. “What now-?”

He knelt down to the glowing blue Vision at his feet, scooping it up into his palm carefully.

And his mama… Didn’t care.

Hardly looked at it when he showed it to her. Hardly looked at him as she began the trek back home. Didn’t care about this Vision he’d just earned and snatched from the hands of-

…No. Of course she didn’t care.

Didn’t care about the absolute hell he’d endured and clawed his way out of. Didn’t care about what happened to him. Didn’t care about any of it.

Of course she fucking didn’t. Why would she? Why would any of this matter to her? Why wouldn’t she-?

Ajax bit down on his lip, forcing a steady breath.

…They’ll understand. He just needed to explain what happened when they got home. When they were calm and his papa was there as mediator. They’ll understand. They have to. Of course they will, things just needed to settle first.

He was disoriented and unsettled too, of course he was angry and frustrated and confused.

Yeah.

They’ll understand.

…What happened to their son..?

Aksana was mad with worry. Demetri was constantly out with him, over the long hours Tihomir spent searching for him. Ana was too anxious to fight, even after being home for extended periods of time to help Aksana look after the twins. Even Daimon couldn’t track where he’d gone despite how naturally it came to him. 

As the third day came to a close, Tihomir’s stomach had been in such horribly twisted knots that he couldn’t keep his dinner down. What few bites he’d forced down for the sake of keeping normalcy and trying to keep the twins from freaking out any harder over dinner had been retched right back out, so fast that he was pretty sure he’d done more harm than good since he had to excuse himself so suddenly.

Deep winter hadn’t set in just yet. But the nights weren’t exactly warm anymore, either. Nor were the wilds safe for a child, especially an omega child like Ajax. Maybe he’d be able to find a good spot to hide, but under no circumstances was it going to turn out well if even a single creature sniffed him out.

What did he do wrong? What had he said? What had he failed to notice? Kids don’t just up and leave at fourteen just… just because. Ana felt like none of them were listening to her and ran away to get their attention again, but never out of the damn village. So why did Ajax leave? Why did he flee? What happened?

Aksana had gone for a walk. And he damn near cried with relief when he saw her silhouette accompanied by another, by a familiar fourteen-year-old looking like a kid caught red-handed as Tihomir rushed to greet them. Which, in all fairness, he technically was.

That familiar fourteen-year-old, though… that wasn’t Ajax.

Aksana seemed to know it, too. A foul, rotting scent came from him, like he’d been rolling around in decaying corpses for three months straight. And no more did joy and lightness come to his face. It was as if he’d aged several years in the span of only three days, like he’d spent a decade serving the Fatui and fighting in the bloody lands of Natlan. His sweet, precious Ajax - he wasn’t there.

He spoke of a nightmare he must have dreamt during his time away from home. Spoke of a sea so cold that even the Tsaritsa herself would freeze, spoke of a master that threw him right back into every fight he tried to flee from, spoke of a land of mechanized ruin guards tilling the land with bone and watering it with blood, spoke of some sort of vision, of a masked king and rightful heir that held no royal blood, spoke of wrestling with whales the size of several Zapolyarny Palaces and winning.

Aksana looked more and more worried with every word. She hadn’t touched him at all, though. No hugs, no hand holding, no shoulder touches - and somewhere along the way, Tihomir had the distinct feeling she was not just worried about him, but afraid of him. Only later did he learn Ajax had hit her.

…If that even was Ajax anymore.

Ajax, who took one look at their shared glance, and must have realized how crazy he sounded. Tihomir tried to pull him aside to speak with him one-on-one after Aksana had gone to bed, but he brushed it off. Said his mama was right and that it was just a dream and he’d be fine again in a few days.

Tihomir didn’t believe him. Scents don’t shift dramatically over the course of three days from a dream, Visions aren’t granted because of a dream… it didn’t make sense. But neither did Ajax’s story. And knowing Ajax didn’t trust them with the truth of whatever really happened…

…

…It hurt. In a way Tihomir hadn’t expected, it hurt.

Aksana was the first of the family to withdraw. Tihomir couldn’t blame her. She was the first to leave if Ajax came into the room, the first to change conversations away from him, the first to usher the twins away. It got even worse when they learned they had another little one on the way, worse to the point she wouldn’t even stay in the same room as him if she could help it. And still, Tihomir couldn’t blame her. Especially when she was likely feeling deeply protective and vulnerable, knowing there was a baby on the way and she lived under the same roof as someone who had hit her.

Ana was the second. He’d never witnessed so many fights between the two as he did in the months following Ajax’s strange shift, one that stripped him of all his omega traits from what it looked like. The only days they didn’t fight over something was when Ana was still pissed off and giving him the cold shoulder. The tiniest inconveniences, the tiniest complications, the tiniest wrongdoings spiraled into arguments so personal and insulting that even kicking them out of the house to sort out their problems away from the twins didn’t seem to calm them anymore. Tihomir’s only solace was that Ajax at least knew to remove himself from the argument before he could hurt her. He’d watched warily from the windows every time, hand on the handle and ready to intervene to shield her if Ajax tried anything - but he always walked away. At least that part of his son was still in there.

The worst of the fighting, however, came not from Ana - but somehow from Demetri.

Exercise was the only thing that seemed to calm Ajax down at all. He still wasn’t really his usual self after, the warmth and sweetness he and Daimon once shared was still missing… but he was at least a bit mellowed out, enough to smile and laugh spend time with Tonia and Anthon (though never without Tihomir watching nearby - the risk wasn’t worth it). Demetri took him hunting after a particularly bad week of unending arguments between Ajax and Ana, and brought Daimon along to help them track. So when Demetri rushed back home with Daimon nearly bleeding out on death’s doorstep, Tihomir’s mind jumped to the worst. And he truly hated himself for it, because he knew, he knew Ajax still cared for and loved them, he knew he still saw them as family, but… Archons, he hated himself for thinking Ajax might have snapped at Daimon. Especially with how riled up and absolutely pissed Demetri was.

In the end, the wolves got to Daimon pretty bad. He was okay, but he got far, far too close to death. According to Demetri’s side of the story, Ajax had chased after retreating wolves, laughing and slaughtering them and destroying them so thoroughly that there was almost nothing left to bring back. He’d gone after them and told Demetri and Daimon to return home without him, and they were surprised by a pair of wolves that hadn’t gone with the pack. Demetri kept them away best he could, but Ajax wasn’t there to help him. Daimon got hurt in the fight. Demetri barely managed to get them out alive.

And when Ajax came home a day later, his clothes stained with the crimson red proof of his bloodshed, he admitted to all of it. He did go after those wolves. He did fail to protect Daimon. He did fail to have Demetri’s back. And he was inconsolable.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me! I don’t know why I’m so fucked up! I don’t know how to fix it! I’ve tried, I’ve been trying so hard to just be normal, papa, I swear I never meant to get Daimon hurt, I promise I never meant to make things so bad for everyone, I..!”

He didn’t let Tihomir hug him still, afraid he might hurt him, too.

And as Tihomir watched Ajax rip through every Fatui soldier sent his way in the ring… he understood not only why he was so afraid of himself now, but he also understood where he belonged.

He didn’t want Ajax in the military. It was no place for an omega. Not forbidden, but sure as hell not typical. The last thing he wanted was to send him into a place full of alphas that would do Archons-know-what to him. He hasn’t gone into heat even once since the strange incident around his Vision, but it doesn’t take a heat for an alpha to try something funny. His only comfort was the fact his scent… well. It wasn’t exactly the pleasing, sweet scent that attracted alphas anymore.

“...Papa..?”

Tihomir went to lay a hand on his shoulder like he always used to, but hesitated - because he always recoiled these days, he always withdrew. So Tihomir withdrew, too. “...This is where I leave you, Jax. You’ve outgrown Morepesok.”

He frowned. “...You’re leaving me here.”

“What choice do I have?” A sigh. “...Morepesok will always be your home, and I hope you know we all love you and want to see you back home again soon. But whatever this is you need to work through… you need to figure out how to manage it. We’re not safe with you there. I hope you’ll understand someday, even if you don’t now.”

“...You’re scared of me, too, then.” Ajax crossed his arms.

“You would never hurt us.”

“Then what are you scared of?”

“Whatever that thing is that’s inside you.” Tihomir itched to hug him, to soothe his worries. But the last thing he wanted to do right now was to push him further away, if he couldn’t handle being touched anymore. “That’s what I’m scared of. Whatever it is that made you hit mama, whatever it is that sent you after the wolves instead of getting back with Daimon and Demetri, whatever it is that made you rip those wolves apart into minced meat that even the crows can’t do much with. That’s what I fear having in the house right now.”

“...Right.”

“...I’ll write to you when I can, Jax.” He added softly. “I want you to come home again. I want to see you in one piece again. But… it has to be when you don’t threaten our safety. I have to put that first. And if working under the Fatui is the level of exertion and discipline and structure that you need, levels that I can’t give you at home, then… I have to do what’s best for all of us. I have to leave you here, Jax, and give you the space you need to work through this with people who can keep you in line better than I ever could.”

He nodded. Tihomir wasn’t sure he believed him, though. “Then… I’ll write back when I can.”

He went to hug him. Ajax flinched as he did. And Tihomir stepped away at the reminder.

“...I love you, Ajax. Chin up, keep your head on your shoulders… and come back home when you’re ready.”

“...Love you too, papa. Be safe on the way back.”

Ajax turned away from him, first, rejoining the other new recruits.

Tihomir hated walking away from him. Hated leaving him here. Hated that he failed as a father, hated that he’d let him down so spectacularly, hated he could do so little that leaving his fourteen-year-old to fend for himself in their nation’s military was the only choice left. He hated it, hated himself, hated he was such a… such a failure.

He didn’t let himself cry until he’d returned to the city’s inn, finding the lone room with two beds, and could hardly see straight as he packed his belongings for the long return trip that he’d…

…be making by himself.

…What happened to their son..?

“I did it! Dad! I got in!”

Crepus cheered as Diluc came barreling at him, Vision swinging so wildly at his hip that Kaeya was amazed it didn’t fall right off. “Oho! That’s my boy! What did I tell you, eh? Nothing to be nervous about!”

“Wait, that’s not even the best part!” Diluc pulled away from his arms just enough to make room for- “Kaeya got in, too! We’re gonna be working together!”

“Really?” Crepus’ eyes glimmered, bordering on overwhelmed as he extended an arm out. “That’s amazing! Archons, I’m so proud of you both - c’mere, Kae! We’re celebrating tonight!”

Kaeya approached, allowing Crepus to pull him into a tight group hug with him and Diluc.

“I don’t know who blessed me with such wonderful boys to call my own.” Crepus managed despite the fact Diluc was probably hurting his ribs just as he was Kaeya’s right now- “But I’m so, so unbelievably glad they did. I love you both so much, I’m so proud of you. Hey! Adelinde, did you hear that?! Diluc and Kaeya passed their knight exams today! Come here!”

Kaeya felt like he was going to melt as Crepus squeezed a smiling, laughing Adelinde close as well.

It was… honestly kind of… nice…

…Dainsleif had warned him about getting too attached, though, after hesitating to tell him how Diluc’s mother may very well not actually be dead. 

A warning he should… probably heed, right..?

Papa

Mama

Papa,

Don’t be surprised if you all get Mora sent to you. I know you said mama ended up okay after that scare, but I get the feeling you were just saying that to make me feel better. I know the Mora won’t fix me not being there. But I hope it helps at least.

Teucer is a really cute name. He hasn’t been too fussy, has he? You and mama always said Ana was super fussy as a baby, I don’t remember Tonia and Anthon being too demanding though so maybe you’ll be lucky a third time?

I miss you. I miss home. I miss everyone. It feels good to know I’m keeping you all safe. Maybe it’s selfish to want to go back. I don’t know, though. I know I shouldn’t. I don’t want to hurt anyone.

I’m sorry if I can’t be back in time for birthdays and holidays still. I have a lot of training left to do.

I love you. I love everyone back home. I wish I could say it to your faces again. It’s just not the same through letter. I’ve tried rewriting these a hundred times but it always comes out badly.

Be careful of the chill. And the cold waters. Good luck with Teucer. Archons, I hope I can meet him.

I’ll write when I can. I’ll visit again when I can. I promise. I miss home too much not to.

-Love,

Ajax

Ajax scowled as he tore the note apart again and cast the pieces into the fireplace again, pressing his face into his hands.

…Maybe he’ll try writing again tomorrow.

Ajax bowed his head as Her Majesty pinned the Delusion to his lapel, immediately feeling the faint buzzing of Electro ripple through him. “...You have done well to make it this far. I expect you to continue making great strides and aiding us all. A brighter future for Snezhnaya awaits, looking up to the Eleventh Harbinger in equal parts awe as they do fear. Lord Tartaglia, codename ‘Childe’ - I trust you will not let us down.”

“No, Your Majesty.” He bowed his head. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

He risked a peek at her face, finding a satisfied gleam in those otherwise unreadable icy eyes. “I thought not. Do you plan to return home first?”

He should. But…

“After taking up the rank of Harbinger?” He chuckled. “I’d rather be put to work if there are things that need doing, Your Majesty.”

…The thought of seeing his mama and his papa right now, of looking little Teucer in the eye and knowing just how much blood he’d spilled in the name of keeping him safe, of plastering a smile to his face to keep them from seeing the dullness behind his gaze…

“Very well, then.” He couldn’t read the expression on her face. “I shall have work for you soon.”

“...I love you, Ajax… Come back home when you’re ready.”

…Will I ever be..?

“...Good afternoon, Kaeya.”

Kaeya ducked back into the alcove, Dainsleif’s scent washing over him as if to welcome him back home. “Good afternoon.”

Dainsleif said little else as Kaeya seated himself in the space next to him. Said little else as Kaeya pulled his thoughts together. And perhaps as Kaeya savored the Abyss traces still clinging to his father’s personal knight, too, like clinging to a scrap of home.

Not that he could go back just yet. He still had work to do here.

“...I’ve officially passed my training for the Knights of Favonius.” He figured he ought to get this report over with, even if he’d rather Dainsleif stayed a while longer. “Diluc did so well during his final examination that he’s been bumped up a couple ranks. I’ll have to play catchup to keep up with him, but he still offers me insight into what’s going on behind the scenes when he can. I’d rather have firsthand information, but better secondhand than nothing.”

“Hm. I’m still surprised they’ve allowed you to join this late.” Dainsleif observed. “You’re already sixteen years of age.”

“That’s the earliest you can join the Knights. And even that’s considered too soon for most.” Dainsleif’s brows raised just slightly, earning a small chuckle from Kaeya. “Mondstadt is a… far more peaceful nation. The kids can afford more leisure time around here. They even present later, apparently - sixteen on the early end, twenty on the later. Crepus wasn’t ready at all when I had my first rut two years ago. It was so early that apparently someone filed a report and wanted me to get checked on, because if someone presents that early on the surface, it’s usually a surefire sign that there’s something going on at home. I thought I was busted for a moment, but… I kind of leaned into it and freaked out whenever someone tried to ask me about my history, before Crepus and Diluc found me. Crepus hasn’t really tried to talk to me about it since then, thankfully. No one has.”

“Don’t scare me like that, Kaeya. I thought for a moment you’d blown your cover.” A sigh. “...How is working for the Knights?”

“Kind of surprising.” Kaeya leaned back, sprawling out comfortably. “I thought I’d be thrown into drills and training immediately. Which I have, don’t get me wrong… but the mage training Sindre put me through were a million times more difficult than this. I have a harder time suppressing my Cryo during training than I do with the actual drills themselves. Granted, learning how to wield a sword wasn’t easy. I’m still getting used to it and holding a sword at all still feels pretty foreign to me, but the fighting style of these soldiers is… I really like it, Dainsleif.”

“It comes naturally to you, I take it?” Kaeya nods. “Explain.”

“There’s a lot of emphasis on playing things by ear, with the way the Knights of Favonius fight.” Kaeya hummed, almost half to himself in thought. “They’d be very difficult to fully, truly surprise, if our homeland were ever to cross swords with them. The Knights are quick to adjust to any particular change out on the battlefield and are encouraged to keep their ears and wits about them at any time. Even the actual fighting style is very… light. You’re pushed to move fast with your strikes and be ready to switch stances at a moment’s notice. Armor is minimal and light, steeds are common, and the cavalry is considered to be the best part of Mondstadt’s military. They’re quick to get their injured away and are also quick to get to wherever they need to be.”

“And how is the leadership?”

“It’s… there.” Kaeya sighed. “Don’t get me wrong, it seems like the Knights will respond to whoever’s in charge of them. But with the way recruits are trained, I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole ‘change on the fly’ thing means formations fall apart really fast, especially with less experienced Knights who can’t predict what the Knights around them will do and need to make decisions before orders can reach them. When immediately near a superior, it shouldn’t be an issue, but the more distance between them and their captain…”

“...The more likely that enough individual knights choose wrong.” Dainsleif finished for him. “And the more likely the formation is broken.”

“Precisely my thoughts.” Kaeya leaned back on his arms, earning a raised brow from him. “...What?”

“A sitting position like this is quite… unbecoming of a prince.”

Not quite a scold. But not entirely a tease, either. An observation, it seemed.

Kaeya’s face warmed as he adjusted, matching Dainsleif to sit more properly. “Ah, right. Please, excuse me.”

Dainsleif reached out, pressing a hand against his shoulders - hard enough to startle Kaeya. “Your posture, too, has been slipping. Straighten up. Do the nobility here truly place so little care into these details?”

“I- Sorry. They care, just…” Kaeya laughed quietly again. “It’s not quite so strict in Mondstadt. Crepus says it’s much more intense in Liyue, though.”

Dainsleif stilled. “...Liyue?”

“Yeah.” His brow furrowed as he called back on the detail, mentioned only in passing here and there. “...Crepus is currently working on deals with some merchants in Liyue. He’s hoping to expand the Winery’s business and see if he can break ground in other countries. Talks with Fontaine are going, too, but the ones in Liyue are going quicker since it’s a neighboring region.”

“You won’t be asked to visit the city, will you?”

Kaeya nodded, solemn. “...I most likely will. Not for a long time, perhaps not for years. But as Crepus grows a relationship with those merchants, I will likely be asked to go along with him and Diluc. Refusing isn’t an option.”

Dainsleif crossed his arms. “You really ought to finish this before then, in that case. Liyue took many of our spies before. You may have a story if you go with Crepus and Diluc, but Morax seems to have quite the keen eye for spotting us. It would be deeply unwise for you to go.”

Kaeya ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t return until I’m done.”

“We need you alive, Kaeya. Your Highness.” Dainsleif frowned. “The risk is not worth it.”

“You don’t understand, Dainsleif. I don’t have everything I need yet.” Kaeya thrummed his fingers along the rocky floor. “My father wishes for me to understand how Mondstadt stands while Barbatos barely pays it much mind. I can’t return until I’ve completed this task.”

“You need to return to us at all costs.” He repeated. “Khaenri’ah needs their prince back, preferably not in pieces.”

Khaenri’ah needs their prince back…

Kaeya nearly winced at the thought. The vision of his father’s disappointment, the weight of knowing he’d failed his people, the understanding of it being his fault and his alone…

“And they’ll get him back.” He assured. He didn’t like how quiet his voice came out, though, and he especially didn’t like how Dainsleif’s gaze softened. “I’ll return home once my mission is complete. And not a moment sooner.”

…But does my father need his son back..?

“...You wished to speak to me?”

Tartaglia bowed his head. “Yes. If you could spare me but a moment, Your Majesty.”

She cocked her head just slightly to the side. “Then, speak. What troubles you?”

This was probably silly. Really stupidly silly. She probably knew all this already. But…

“...During my time in Liyue, it was up to me to collect unpaid debts.” Most likely, he’d come all this way for nothing. She not only knew already, but likely knew more than even he did at this point. But in the tiniest chance that she didn’t know, in the potential scenario that this was news to her… “I was in and out of the Harbor quite often, as you can imagine, and in my time, ran into a peculiar and rather interesting face, during their brief visit for trade purposes. Are you familiar with the Ragnvindr family?”

“Unfortunately.” A sigh. “Lady Signora reports often from Mondstadt that the family heir is quite frustrating to deal with. Diluc, I believe is his name, and the father, Crepus.”

“The second son of the family - I have seen him before.” Even now, the image of the king and his strange son still lingered, an echoing memory of a dream he could not bring himself to think about and yet could not forget. “...I fell into the Abyss when I was a child. It was there that I received not only this Vision, but actual visions of a king of some kind, as well as a boy with him that matches the Ragnvindr’s second son’s appearance.”

The Tsaritsa straightened. “...Go on.”

…So she didn’t know, then. “I have little more information, Your Majesty. Please forgive me. But if I were so bold to assume… I would not be surprised if the second Ragnvindr son is related somehow to a fallen royal bloodline.”

“A bold assumption, indeed.” The Tsaritsa agreed. “The Abyss was once the home of Khaenri’ah - but that kingdom is long gone. I witnessed the fall myself, and any survivors should have succumbed to Abyssal corruption long, long ago, now. Enough so that they would not blend in so seamlessly if seen in other nations.”

“That was what I thought as well.” She tipped her head curiously, a silent invitation to continue. “...There is a strange phenomenon in records that I dug up, there in Liyue. Some years ago, multiple people were arrested. But no crime was recorded anywhere, and each of them were ultimately found encased in Cor Lapis, as if crystallized within minutes. Each of the descriptions fail to describe their eyes despite everyone else having a note on eye color, and each of their faces are so heavily obscured by the Cor Lapis that it cannot be seen properly from the outside. If the crystallization were to come from Rex Lapis directly, I wonder what it is about their faces, their eyes, that he works so hard to hide.”

“...The Mark of Khaenri’ah.”

Tartaglia gave a curt nod. “My thoughts precisely. That these people were able to enter at all tells me that the corruption, perhaps, has not yet fully set in for at least some. Not enough to be noticed at a passing glance. It could all be one great coincidence, I was unable to investigate any further without raising the Qixing’s ire. But if it is true that the Khaenri’ahns are not truly lost… it may very well be that one of their princes now lives under the Ragnvindr roof. For what reason, I do not know.”

“I will have to personally investigate this matter.” The Tsaritsa stood from her throne. “If it is true that the kingdom remains… I foresee quite a powerful alliance in our future. Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Tartaglia.”

“Do you have any orders for me related to this matter?”

“If Liyue has a history of killing Khaenri’ahns, I suspect the prince will not rush there in the event of an emergency or upon discovery.” A quiet hum. “...Hm, though I do suppose I could step in myself if there is a threat to his life, once I am able to locate him. I am sure his father would be quite… grateful, if I were to save his son.” A satisfied gleam came to her face once again, pale skin glittering like the snow outside. “You have no additional orders at this time. You will return to Liyue by the end of the month, as planned. However, I would advise you to begin preparations - depending on how these next few months or even years play out, you may well be sent to the Abyss for diplomatic purposes.”

Sent to the..?

Tartaglia couldn’t decide if that was dread or eagerness making his stomach drop. But he kept the smile on his face, and bowed his head. “Understood, Your Majesty.”

What did it matter, if he was excited or if he dreaded it? If she said he needed to go, then… well, he was going.

He could only hope it didn’t fuck him up even further beyond repair. 

It’d… really be nice to go home someday, after all…

Liar!

You did this!

You killed him!

I’LL KILL YOU! I’LL KILL YOU FOR WHAT YOU’VE DONE!

Kaeya couldn’t feel the rain pouring down on him anymore. Couldn’t feel the mocking sting of frigid-cold ice anymore, couldn’t feel the biting brand sliced down his palm from the new Vision, could hardly feel the trickle of blood down his face and the burn on his side searing his skin.

Even his own breath felt foreign, like the very air around him worked to choke him out. As if, perhaps, Barbatos was done toying with him and was ready to snuff him out after Diluc’s failure to finish the job.

Kaeya grit his teeth as his boots pounded into the dirt, into the sand.

It should be here. It should be here.

It was long, long past afternoon. Long past since he should have left. But where else could he go? Where else was he meant to flee? At least in this cramped little cave, there was a slim chance the Anemo Archon wouldn’t notice him. He could camp out here until next week. If he didn’t die from these injuries.

Though… that might be the least of his worries.

Kaeya made it into the cave, cramming himself into the gap. He’d grown considerably in the years he’d spent here in Mondstadt, and it only hit him now just how damn tall he’d become, taking care not to hit his head as he squeezed through the narrow entryway and made it into the small chamber that opened up a bit more comfortably and found-

“Your Highness?”

The cry escaped Kaeya’s throat before he could stop it, like he was six all over again. A cry of perhaps relief or pain or exhaustion or… he didn’t even know what anymore. “Dainsleif-!”

“What happened?” He reached out as Kaeya’s legs gave out. “Shit- Hold on. Are you alone?”

Alone. Always alone. He shouldn’t have forgotten, he shouldn’t have clawed his way into the Knights, he shouldn’t have come here, he shouldn’t have called Crepus his dad and Diluc his brother, he shouldn’t, he shouldn’t have forgotten-

“Your Highness-,”

“Home. I’m going home.” Kaeya managed shakily. “I’m done. I can’t do this anymore. I’m done. Dainsleif, please, please, let me go, please-!”

“I will. I’ll take you home.” Dainsleif helped him lower down safely, slowly, so he didn’t fuck up his knees. Not that it did much when he was still bleeding- “The Cryo Archon has recognized you. Has anyone else?”

“I don’t know.” Kaeya insisted, skin crawling at the horrible reminder of that stupid, stupid Vision that he had stupidly, stupidly brought with him. “I don’t know!”

“Relax, Your Highness-,”

“Please, Dainsleif, please, I have to go home-,”

“I have to confirm no one followed you.” A sigh as he reached for his bag nearby. “I also cannot take you if you’re unstable.”

“No one followed.” Kaeya insisted. “Crepus is dead. Diluc told me to fuck off and never come back. Adelinde wasn’t there. No one’s there, Dainsleif, please, just- please take me home. Please!”

“I will not bring the eyes of the Cryo Archon directly into the heart of Khaenri’ah.” He pushed back, stern - but as Kaeya sobbed, he sighed again, and added a little more softly, “And I will not allow you to bleed out, either, Your Highness. Once you’ve allowed me to stop the bleeding on your face and we’ve found a suitable hiding place for your Vision, then I will bring you home. I swear it.”

Kaeya nodded, and finally allowed Dainsleif to look him over, taking hold of his chin and tipping his face this way and that to get a better view as he worked.

“...How did you manage to get this cut?”

Kaeya winced as he wiped under his right eye, the wound still stinging and fresh. “I… didn’t move in time.”

“I’m surprised something landed here.” Dainsleif wiped the blood from his brow delicately. “Who were you fighting that hates eyepatches so much?”

Kaeya’s face stung as tears spilled into the cut. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Kaeya-,”

“Please. Please. Not now. I’m begging you, please not now please don’t make me talk about-,”

“Alright.” Dainsleif’s gloved fingers brushed over his cheek, avoiding the wound. “I won’t push you any further.”

Kaeya averted his eyes.

…How pathetic of a prince I must be…

Pierro hurried forward, tugging at the door as he hurried into the private infirmary.

He wasn’t supposed to be back yet. He wasn’t supposed to have returned. He was supposed to have made arrangements with Dainsleif in advance so they knew to expect him and to send some of their mages to ‘kill’ Kaeya and allow him to disappear from Mondstadt without raising too many questions. Just showy and flashy enough for Diluc and Crepus to feel satisfied in knowing what happened, enough to keep them from trying to sniff out Kaeya for closure, enough to get him home safely.

But instead, he got a message from his trusted courier that Kaeya was back already.

This isn’t good. This couldn’t be good. Not like this. Please, please let him be okay-

“Kaeya?”

The boy hardly stirred, still sitting at the edge of his bed. Pierro wasn’t surprised at the fact he hardly recognized him - he was taller than he last saw him, sunkissed in the way Khaenri’ahns never had the luxury of enjoying. He’d grown well into his frame in the years he’d been away, of course he’s changed and looked different…

…But seeing him like this…. Unflinching, unmoving, unresponsive… 

He hadn’t been ready for that.

This wasn’t the boy Dainsleif reported back to him about, the one who learned how to fake confidence and charm the people around him to blend in seamlessly. He didn’t look like someone fit for military service, didn’t look like someone who could confidently carry a sword and navigate through battles on his trusted steed, didn’t look like someone who faced courts head-on and calmly as he did war. Nor was he that nervous little thing he remembered before leaving, shy and timid and unsure of himself but still so ready to please. To serve.

Pierro knew he’d missed a lot. He’d known from the beginning that he would. But he hadn’t expected to miss this much.

He frowned as he approached Kaeya, the expression deepening as Kaeya… didn’t move.

He turned his eyes to Dainsleif instead, finding a solemn look on his face as he watched Kaeya closely. “What happened?”

“I do not know, Your Majesty.” His stomach tightened at the admission. “He refused to speak on it with me, and he has been unresponsive since entering the castle. I feared it was blood loss, but the injury to his face and side have not bled heavily enough for that. I suspect it’s shock.”

Pierro crossed his arms. “What do the injuries look like?”

“Cuts and a burn. The cut to his face isn’t deep, nor should it blind him so long as infection is prevented. The one to his side is deeper, but still not very fatal.” Dainsleif reached out, putting a steadying hand on Kaeya’s shoulder. If Pierro hadn’t been watching closely, he’d have missed the way Kaeya leaned into his touch ever so slightly. “If I were to take a guess, the cuts seem to be caused by a blade. The one to his side matches the patterns typical of heavier weapons - the injury to his eye seems to be lighter. The wound on his side also seems to have been burned.”

“As if the weapon used was a burning one? Or does it seem after the fact?”

“It’s hard to say. I presume the weapon burned, but short of Kaeya explaining what happened, I’m afraid I cannot say for certain.”

Pierro reached out to touch Kaeya’s other shoulder.

And he flinched. Away from him, into Dainsleif.

Pierro’s heart sank.

“...Ask him to come find me when he becomes responsive again.” He withdrew. If Kaeya wasn’t ready to face him, if he needed time, if he needed space, then… he had to give it to him, didn’t he? “I trust you to stay with him until then.”

“What of my post with you, Your Majesty?”

“I’ll find someone else.” Pierro smoothed down the fabric of his heavy tunic. “Kaeya, however… I don’t believe he has such a luxury, not if you’re the one he allows near enough to comfort. So stay with him. And Sovereigns help you if I find out you’ve allowed any harm to come to him.”

Dainsleif bowed his head. “Understood. He is in good hands, Your Majesty.”

“I believe you’ve forgotten something.”

Kaeya glanced over his shoulder at Dainsleif, who still stood at the doorway into his room.

“Your catalyst, Your Highness.” He gestured his arm to the opening.

“I haven’t forgotten anything.” Kaeya managed, a bit uneasily as if he hadn’t spoken in a week. Which… granted, he practically hadn’t.

A frown. “It is not on your person.”

“I haven’t forgotten anything, Dainsleif.” He repeated, softer this time.

His eyes found Kaeya’s, a glimmer of understanding settling into them.

Dainsleif didn’t stop him, and fell into step beside him this time as Kaeya moved to leave.

“...Your Majesty? I’ve come to resign from my position.”

Pierro frowned as Sindre passed his letter forward. “For what reason?” And then, as the man hesitated, he added, “Please, speak freely.”

“...His Highness refuses to participate in our lessons, since his return from his mission.” The man explained, smoothing down his silk robes of soft blues and gold trimmings. “He will not explain to me when I attempted to inquire as to why, when the fear crossed my mind that I had offended him in some way. He expressed it was not my doing, but that he will not do lessons under any circumstances. A shame - his Cryo still has immense potential.”

Pierro tried not to scowl, kept his face cool as he read over the letter. “...I see. Are you certain? You and him worked very well together before.”

“I cannot work with pupils who have no desire to try.” To his credit, Sindre did sound truly sorry. But of course he was - he had lost his favorite student, hadn’t he? “I will return if His Highness ever decides to return to his craft and if asked, sincerely I will. But until then, I fear I would only be wasting time here.”

“I understand.” He stood, leaving the letter on the desk. “I only wish you’d alerted me to this matter sooner.”

A bow. “Forgive me, Your Majesty. I was under the impression His Highness had expressed more to you than I.”

His heart stung. “No, he has not. I will discuss this matter with him. Please delay your resignation until then. You will be compensated as if you held lessons as expected.”

“Understood.”

“What is wrong with you?”

Kaeya tried not to wince. “I’m sorry, father, but repressing my magic for so many years has-,”

“You and I both know that is utterly ridiculous.” Pierro scolded, tone flat and colder than any ice Kaeya had ever summoned to his fingertips. “Magic suppression doesn’t begin to be an issue until multiple decades have past. Ten years is not enough time to suppress-,”

“Have you ever considered, perhaps, that spending time outside of the Abyss might change that?” Kaeya snapped back at him. “And have you considered that perhaps the Celestia-aligned energy of Teyvat’s surface might mess with that, too? Father, catalysts reject me now. Do you honestly want that information getting out?”

“Reject…? Since when?! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Because I’ve been trying to fix it.” Kaeya crossed his arms, looking just defensive enough to keep Pierro from catching on. “If I work at it enough… Maybe it’ll come back to me. I don’t know.”

He pinched his brow. “Kaeya, you need your mentor to do that. Or have you forgotten how long it took you to connect the first time? Why won’t you do your damn lessons?”

“I can’t!” Kaeya hissed. “Sindre is better off teaching someone else while I’m pulling myself together. What don’t you get?”

“What I don’t get is your twisted logic.” Pierro scowled. “You’ve got this all backwards.”

“No I don’t.”

“But you do. You need help now more than ever. So why are you sending away the one person who can help?”

“I don’t need help!” Kaeya insisted. “I just need space, dammit, what don’t you-,”

“Watch your tone.”

“Or what?” Kaeya laughed. “Will you banish me to my room when I have meetings to attend? Will you wag your finger at me? Will you sentence me to writing a thousand more phrases perfectly?”

“Kaeya-,”

“Oh, wait, I know. You’ll send me away again, won’t you?” Kaeya pushed, digging under skin that absolutely should not be dug under. But then, really, what was the worst that was going to happen? What did it matter how he was suffocating when he drowned no matter what he punished him with? “Where will it be this time? Back to Mondstadt, where I’ll be killed? To Snezhnaya, where I’ll be used like a bargaining chip? Into-?”

“Enough!” Pierro cut him off, jabbing a finger lightly into Kaeya’s chest - that meant victory was his. “I don’t know what the hell happened to you in Mondstadt, but whatever it is, you need to get over it and get your act together. You are the heir of this kingdom, and if you keep toying with your responsibilities, you will burn it all to a crisp. You are the prince of this nation - act like it.”

But of course you don’t know.

You never fucking asked.

Kaeya grinned. “Give me a reason to and I just might.”

He could have talked about the people of this nation. The poetry and literature festivals he loved and missed for a decade. The mara he loves to ride. The people he knows.  For Kalli working diligently on her dishes, for Arvid and his steady aim that kept the kingdom safe, for Eivor and Atla as they worked tirelessly and with laughter and song as they tailored clothes and fixed holes, for Sindra’s endless encouragement in his early years and the patience Kaeya had worn thin. Hell, even for Dainsleif and his unwavering faith in the steady crowning family that took when the previous could rule no longer.

But all Pierro did was shake his head slowly, before leaving the room.

Kaeya wrapped the wordless silence around himself as his door shut behind the king.

“...Your Highness? What are you doing so late?”

Kaeya shook his head. “...I couldn’t sleep.”

Dainsleif’s face hardly shifted as Kaeya rushed out from his chambers, a warm bathrobe hastily thrown over his sleepwear. He only came to a stop long enough to speak with Dainsleif, intending originally to get as far away as possible as soon as possible. “Then what do you plan to do?”

“Read, mainly.” Kaeya hugged himself. He’d far rather go for a walk, wander the halls since he knew there was no breeze and moonlight to soothe him outside, not in this place… but the palace hallways were likely filled with people busy at work through the dark hours, and he wasn’t in the mood to deal with them. The walls of his study were unfamiliar and oppressive despite the two weeks he’d had to get re-used to this palace again, sure… but they were private, at least, private enough he could try to shove away the vision of Diluc finishing the job. “It… might do me some good.”

“I see.” Something flickered over Dainsleif’s face, something vaguely resembling conflict over a decision. “...Do you have sufficient reading material?”

He hated how stiff he sounded. Hated how his tone was laced with the formality expected of a king’s knight attending to the prince, the distance that came with hallways that may well hide unwelcome witnesses. “I do.”

“I am glad to hear it.” Dainsleif stepped away from the wall, though moved neither to stretch nor relax, only to stand beside him. “Let us be on our way, then.”

Kaeya nodded mutely, and hurried towards his study.

It… never truly felt like his. But how could it, when the books lining each shelf were as unfamiliar to him as the faces of his father’s councilmen? Ancient, yes, he feared turning some of the tomes in there into dust if he so much as looked at them wrong, but unfamiliar all the same. It’s the study he should have grown up in, the room he holed himself away in to tarry at his work, the chamber so ingrained in his memory that every scratch and every notch and every chip of stone are still visible even when he closed his eyes.

The study wasn’t his. The bedroom wasn’t his. The throne room held no space for him, the dining hall loomed like an incoming nightmare, even the stables held little place for comforting him when the gear between mara and horse were too similar for him to look at comfortably. This entire damn palace twisted around him like weeds choking out delicate blooms underneath.

He wasn’t sure if it ever felt like home before. But it sure as hell didn’t feel like it now, regardless of how he felt about it before.

And the only thing keeping him sane at all was the familiar weight of Dainsleif’s eyes on him. The way he watched him, the way he tracked his movements, the way he saw through it, saw through everything.

The servants did not see him. The councilmen did not see him. Even his own father did not see him, distant and withdrawn, like he couldn’t bear to look at the failure that was Kaeya and his mission. But Dainsleif…

…He saw what he saw, and he did not shy away from it. He did not scold him, he did not shame him, he did not attempt to shower him in false praises or coat him in an oil of false platitudes and pleasantries and feel-good quotes even he didn’t believe anymore. 

Dainsleif saw him as he was. A failure of a prince still trying his best to function so he might one day make up for this royal fuck-up of a botched mission. Of course he did, he was there to see the slow unraveling of his soul over the years he spent in Mondstadt. It was only natural that Dainsleif knew him in a way no one else did, had been there through it and was still here now and saw Kaeya. It felt… nice.

Even if it was born only out of duty for the crown… at least he could pretend sometimes that this came from heartfelt care and not from the king’s orders.

“...Stay inside with me.” Kaeya found himself asking quietly as he reached the doors to his study. His hopes weren’t high, not when Dainsleif was used to keeping watch outside and probably preferred to keep doing it this way. “...Please?”

Dainsleif’s eyes scanned his face, searching for… for something. “You wish me to keep watch inside?”

“I just… wish for you to stay close.” Kaeya pushed the door open, already turning away before he could hear his insistence on keeping watch outside. “But I… understand otherwise. It wasn’t an order.”

He was about to shut the door behind him, but it caught on something - on Dainsleif’s hand keeping it open as he stepped inside.

He didn’t say anything. Not that he really needed to.

The feeling of his gaze - watching, always watching, but never judging - set over Kaeya like a weighted blanket as he turned his lamps on, warmer and dimmer ones to keep his eyes from straining. Dainsleif kept close as Kaeya reached for one of the books he hadn’t read yet - a tale of a woman supposedly blessed with clairvoyant powers, yet cursed was her life as a result, a story of a wife who loved her mate too deeply to ever share such burdens with him - and curled up in his favorite spot, the one as far from the empty fireplace as he could get. Dainsleif did not crowd him, as usual, but he did claim a seat nearby, between Kaeya and the fireplace.

Kaeya tried not to let it soothe him so much. But he knew damn well that wasn’t an accident.

Dainslief didn’t do things ‘accidentally.’

So instead of lingering on the feeling for too long, Kaeya carefully opened up his book to the first page once he was comfortable, and allowed himself to instead sink into this world that let him drift free of his own worries for a while.

In… Out… In… Out…

Dainsleif loosed a breath as he finished counting Kaeya’s.

His eyelids had drooped. His shoulders had slumped. He’d rested his head against the back of the chaise he’d curled up on. The minutes between each page turned had grown more and more numerous. Dainsleif started timing his breaths when six minutes went by without a single page turn.

And, sure enough, Kaeya was asleep.

Dainsleif didn’t really want to wake him, but he also didn’t particularly want him to wake up stiff or sore from the awkward sleeping position. All he could do was hope that Kaeya wouldn’t be too upset with him as he stood and approached him, tucking a bookmark between the pages of his book and setting it aside.

“Forgive me, Kaeya.” He whispered, more to himself than to him.

The prince still did not stir, even as Dainsleif looped an arm under his knees and around his back, the rich smell of bourbon wrapping around him like some kind of instinctive greeting. Dainsleif adjusted his hold of him carefully, allowing Kaeya to lay his head against his shoulder as he dozed on, safe and sound in his arms.

He really must be beyond exhausted, to not wake as Dainsleif secured him. He’s far too jumpy for his own good these days, he has to be so utterly beyond tired and drained and worn to still be asleep in his arms.

(Really, he has to be. Dainsleif doesn’t want to think about the alternative explanation).

He was about to step away to carry him to his room when a soft, blue glow caught eye instead. A light blue, encased in pale gold, a dreadfully familiar symbol resembling a snowflake pulsing gently on top.

…Shit.

Kaeya hated how tiny he felt in the seat.

Even sitting up straight, even taking the center of the seat, even taking up as much space as he could while remaining proper… He still felt tiny.

He also wished that something would finally cut through the silence as Pierro stared down at him, face so unreadable that it might as well have ‘You’re in trouble!’ written in bold letters on his forehead.

Except then he started drumming his fingers against the heavy desk, and Kaeya tried not to shrink away from him at the sound, from the bundle of cloth and what lay underneath.

“...You’ve got exactly five minutes to explain to me how the Cryo Archon was able to get a Vision to you within the walls of Khaenri’ah.” Pierro didn’t yell. He didn’t even sound mad. Which made things so, so much worse. “Start talking.”

“I truly don’t know, father.” Kaeya explained, surprised with himself at the steadiness of his voice. “I only have speculations, I don’t have any answers.”

Pierro’s expression remained deadpan. Unamused, unimpressed… What else was new, though?

“...She gave me a Vision in Mondstadt.” Kaeya continued, still steady but quieter than he anticipated. “The same night that I… left. I didn’t bring the Vision with me, though, I left it in the cave Dainsleif and I met in for communications. I knew better than to bring it straight into the heart of Khaenri’ah, but I could not have known it would find a way back to me.”

“What did you do that granted you the Vision?”

“How should I know?” Pierro’s eyes narrowed at that. “I don’t claim to know how the Archons think, father. How could I understand why she chose me at the moment she did?”

His fingers thrummed on the desk again as he took this in. “Did you use your Cryo at all, before she recognized you?”

Kaeya shook his head. “No. Not mine.” His fingers stilled, pushing Kaeya to elaborate. “When the Vision appeared, it put up a shield. I don’t know if I’d be alive still without it.”

“...Do you really expect me to believe the Cryo Archon stepped in to save a child of Khaenri’ah?” He asked quietly, flatly. “Much less one that she shouldn’t even know about, if you’ve stayed put in Mondstadt and kept your eyepatch on? Like you were instructed and told to?”

Kaeya crossed his arms. “I stayed put in Mondstadt. I kept my eyepatch on. I do not know what to tell you, father.”

“Tell me what the hell you were doing in Snezhnaya, that’s what I need.”

“I wasn’t. I was in Mondstadt.” Kaeya sighed.

His father’s eyes flicked to Dainsleif - standing straight and standing at attention and standing behind Kaeya, as he always did these days. “I can vouch for him, Your Majesty. He could not have arrived in Snezhnaya and returned in the span of a week, and we met face-to-face weekly.”

Pierro leaned back in his seat, still rigid and stiff.  “And your magic?”

“I suppressed it. I did not not reveal it to anyone.”

If Pierro could tell Kaeya wasn’t saying something, he did not let on, simply looking down at the Vision wrapped in fabric. “...All that’s left to do now is keep this hidden, as far as immediate action goes. We’ll need to attempt an infiltration into the Fatui, and see if we can find out why their Archon has her sights set upon you. Keep this wrapped up in Abyss material, at all times. It should block out most vision into the nation. You’ll likely need to carry it with you so it doesn’t disappear out of its covering. Understood?”

“...Yes, father.”

“Then you are dismissed.” He waved a hand. “I need to begin drafting plans for this mission. You may go.”

Kaeya knew the answer already, knew it was going to make the stinging even sharper, knew it would hurt-

“Is there anything I can help you with?”

-but like pressing on bruises already forming-

“No.”

-all it did was make it worse.

Kaeya simply rose to a stand, bowed his head, and left without another word as Dainsleif’s attention shifted to Pierro.

Perfect.

Dainsleif never truly cared about him. No, his heart had always lay in the crown. Which usually frustrated him more than anything, considering all it did was remind him that Dainsleif only followed him out of loyalty to his father.

But today, it was a mercy. Because today, it was his doorway out. He could slip away in peace for a while, and even the familiar weight of Dainsleif’s gaze could not follow him. He often left this for the hours Dainsleif was asleep, brief as those were, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

Kaeya avoided the crowded hallways when he could, a task that grew easier near the Northernmost edge - though he did pull himself together as needed, no point in rousing any panic or worry among his staff. He wasn’t sure how much strength he had to keep doing so, but the promise of his study’s safety beckoned him forward.

It would have to be enough for now.

Dainsleif hurried down the hallway, the only sign he allowed through of his growing panic.

He wasn’t in his study leafing through reports.

He wasn’t in his room napping the grief away.

He wasn’t in the bath soaking his stress away.

He wasn’t even in the mara stables curled up with Ragnar.

The mara stallion, though, was there. The guards hadn’t seen him leave. Nor did the stablehands. Which means that either he slipped out of the castle through some kind of secret or hidden passageway only he knew about, or he was still inside somewhere.

Dainsleif could only hope it wasn’t the former.

But if it was the latter, then where was he?

Dainsleif passed another countless number of hallways, fear growing with every step.

He missed something. He failed to realize how heavy things had become. He hadn’t stepped in to shoulder his stresses. His worries. He could have buckled and be standing on a ledge right now for all he damn well knew. And who could he blame if not himself? Kaeya had been struggling under the weight of his return for so long now. With hardly a friend to turn to, with no true father he could lean on, with no shoulder to cry against or an ear to vent to. Of course he buckled. Of course he cracked. And what did Dainsleif do?

Nothing.

Forget being a guard. Forget his sworn oaths to Pierro to serve as his knight. He’d been a horrible friend.

That’s what they were now, weren’t they…?

…No. They can’t be. Not after he’d messed up this bad.

He should have listened more. He should have stepped in. What kind of a fool was he? Why was he so blind? Why hadn’t he-?

A whiff of bourbon and frost dragged Dainsleif to a grinding halt. So faint that he nearly missed it. He wasn’t even sure the frosty undertones were even real, with how subtle they were, but… they were.

Which means…

Dainsleif’s head turned towards the smell, and followed in rushed footsteps like a ghost drawn to the living, heading further to the northernmost edges of the castle. More and more sconces he passed were unlit as he plunged into the abandoned wing of the castle, tiles cracked on edges and corners veiled with a cobweb or two. The scent grew stronger, more potent - definitely Kaeya’s, yes, but with it came an arcane chill he hadn’t felt in… years.

Not since before the mission.

Dainsleif arrived at the end of the hall, hand flying to the shut heavy wooden double doors. He could feel an unnatural chill stinging his fingertips, and as he studied the crack, he found flakes of frost peeking through. The doors in this part of the castle had old, ancient locks, ones that would jam too easily - he knew without even needing to try the door that Kaeya wouldn’t lock himself in, certainly not alone. The risk wasn’t worth it since no one came by this way anymore, Kaeya wouldn’t risk physically getting trapped in his retreat by locking a door no one would enter. Meaning Dainsleif didn’t have that as a way to confirm no one would be welcome.

He had half a mind to stand guard out here instead, like he typically would, but…

…If Kaeya really was about to do something stupid, it was best to ask forgiveness and not permission.

Dainsleif pushed the door open, stale icy air rushing over him as if in greeting. He hadn’t stepped foot in this chamber for centuries, not since the great crystal in the center of the ceiling cracked and the mages had to abandon their tower. Traces of that magic still lingered in the air, faint and faded with the passage of time much like the furniture. But in place of dust, a thin layer of frost covered the room, shards of ice scattered around the coated stone floors.

And in the center of it all, Kaeya stood still, face tilted up at the broken gem and back to the door.

“...My mother worked in here, once.” Kaeya said quietly, almost as if to himself. But Dainsleif knew he’d heard him approaching. “Father doesn’t speak of her. The staff don’t, either. But I found a few scattered notes in here from before she died. The crystal in here shattered long, long before she ever stepped foot in this room, she never would have benefited from the focus. But she found the space comforting all the same, for its privacy and for its history.”

Dainsleif paused about halfway between the doors and Kaeya. He didn’t look injured, nor did he look off or sick like someone might after ingesting something they shouldn’t have. Really, the part that stuck out to him was the sword at Kaeya’s feet - not bloodied, but edges coated with ice, as if he’d partially frozen it over. Even more bizarre was the lack of a catalyst on Kaeya - like he was throwing around his magic with no real focus, considering the shattered orb above him hasn’t acted as a focus in hundreds of years now.

“She studied magic in here.” Kaeya continued, arms crossing - self-soothing, anxious, perhaps feeling exposed.  “I couldn’t make heads or tails of the scraps of notes I found, but it all seemed theoretical, perhaps beyond her abilities. I thought… perhaps I could practice in here. And I could come here when my magic becomes too overwhelming and needs release.”

He reached down for his sword, and Dainsleif frowned as he held it out, aiming it towards a sack of old straw. Hardly a shard of ice pierced it, but all around it, he could see traces of Cryo that must have missed it.

Is he trying to-?

Kaeya thrust his sword forward. The movements were precise, exact, smooth as he moved it towards the straw. Nowhere near close enough, but Dainsleif realized that this was entirely intentional as ice rushed from the palm of his hand and ran down the sword in jagged lines.

Jagged. Unpredictable. Unreliable.

Unstable. Unfocused.

Ice shards shot out from random edges of the weapon, blasting to his left and right and only a handful moving forward as was intended. None of them hit the target.

The sword movement itself was beyond precise. Dainsleif was well aware that Kaeya had done more than his fair share of swordwork over his years in Mondstadt, but he’d never seen it in action. He’d gone above and beyond it seems, with aim and timing and fluidity that left Dainsleif somewhere between surprise and pride. To think that he’s been hiding his talent and skill all these weeks since his return, to think he hadn’t wanted to even share it with his father-

…That must be why.

“...My mother thought it was impossible, too.” Kaeya continued as he let the sword drop to the ground again, a soft clanging sound echoing around the room. “Like every other scholar. Even swords with the correct gemstones inlaid into them can’t function correctly as a catalyst.”

“And you’re attempting to do it anyway.” Kaeya gave a single nod. “...I take it this is why you’ve pushed Sindre away?”

Kaeya turned his palms up, glaring down at them. “...I can’t touch catalysts anymore.”

“Can’t, or won’t?”

“Both, perhaps.” He offered softly. “The only choice left is to learn to wield magic through my sword instead. Vision bearers can do it, they can funnel magic through their Visions and direct it through their weapon of choice. It stands to reason I can bypass the Vision and use it through a sword, too.”

Dainsleif tried not to lower his brow. Kaeya clearly knew why, but he just as clearly didn’t want to talk about it. “You run the risk of triggering a very explosive reaction, Kaeya. And if that were to happen, if you were to get hurt, or worse-,”

“Then I’d be depriving Khaenri’ah of its only heir and future.” Kaeya sighed, exhaustion sinking his shoulders. “I know.”

“...You’d be in pain that I cannot chase away for you.” Dainsleif corrected. “Or worse, in a place I cannot follow you into.”

Kaeya fell quiet at that, turning his head just enough to where Dainsleif could see his cheek, could only just make out his profile again.

“...I didn’t think anyone would see me get away from the castle, you know.” Kaeya eventually commented after far too many seconds of silence stretching on, finally turning to face him fully.

Dainsleif tipped his head, just slightly.

Kaeya slowly moved to approach him. “I didn’t think anyone would care to come looking for me, either.”

And then, he reached for the buttons of his white shirt, hands shaking only just slightly as he undid one button, then two, then three.

Dainsleif didn’t dare move.

“I didn’t think anyone would bother... And yet, here you are.” Kaeya dared no lower, only undoing enough to reveal his collarbone, his chest. “I wonder, from time to time, what it must be like. For someone to truly see me. Not to judge a face I’ve put on, not to critique every flaw I failed to cover, not to praise for achievements I don’t deserve to claim… but to simply see beyond the crown on my head.” A sigh. “Each time the thought crosses my mind… you follow in its wake. It’s as if you’ve always seen right through it all. And yet… I wonder at times if any of it is real. If you look at me like you see everything because you must to answer your orders, or because you simply… do. Because you choose to. Perhaps even because you want to.”

Kaeya gave a small laugh. Nothing about it sounded humorous, though.

“Silly, isn’t it? To think I want someone to look past the crown and see my heart, when that very face I wear is how I keep my heart from getting stabbed.”

But I have.

I promise you, I have.

I see how you carry the guilt of your mission. The guilt of the family you let down in Mondstadt. The guilt of letting a Vision into Khaenri’ah.

I see how you hide your flinches whenever Pierro scolds you. I hear the hurt in your voice when you deflect it with humor and taunting. I feel the ache whenever he turns away and answers with silence.

I promise you, I’ve seen it all. You’ll always be Kaeya to me, before you’re ever His Highness.

But the words caught in Dainsleif’s throat. Nothing about it came out correctly. He knew he needed to say something here but-

Kaeya reached for his hand, and Dainsleif allowed him to take it. “I know you watch over me. You’re the reason I stay and can sleep at night at all. I am grateful for your presence, I always will be.” Kaeya confessed. “But I...I wonder how much of that is my father’s orders.”

“...Not all.” Dainsleif allowed himself to admit. “He gave me the order initially, yes… but I could have asked to be reassigned at any point.”

“Truly?”

Dainsleif nodded.

Kaeya raised their joined hands, slow enough that Dainsleif could pull away.

But he didn’t, so Kaeya instead pressed his palm to his chest. Lightly, carefully, but Dainsleif could still feel his heart beating underneath.

Calm. Steady. Unafraid.

“To think all I ever wanted was here in front of me.” Kaeya gave another small laugh, this one less humorless than before at least. “To think someone really has seen me this entire time.”

Dainsleif’s eyes found Kaeya’s.

All I’ve ever seen was you, Kaeya. Not Your Highness, not Pierro’s son, not the Khaenri’ahn heir, not the spy. Kaeya.

I’m sorry I didn’t step up sooner. I’m sorry you wondered about my loyalties. I’m sorry you wondered if I was at your side for the right reasons.

But the words still didn’t come out. All Dainsleif could do was gaze down at where their skin met, and stroke lightly, carefully, delicately. Not for fear of breaking the man before him, but for fear of breaking a moment, one as fragile as melting icicles. 

Kaeya’s heart quickened beneath his fingertips, though remained steady. He must understand, then, the words Dainsleif couldn’t shape correctly. Words he should be able to say but did not know how to, not without making them strong enough, not without capturing the far too many tangled sensations in his heart.

As long as Kaeya understood, though… that was all that mattered.

And understand he must have, because Kaeya stepped forward. His pulse stuttered only as he rested his forehead against Dainsleif’s.

Why? Did he think he could deny him like this?

He should. Dainsleif knew he should. Pierro was going to kill him if he allowed this to go any further. He’d been tasked with comforting Kaeya, yes… but not like this.

I shouldn’t.

I have to be the reasonable one here. You risk your public image by doing this with me. You risk scandal and backlash if it ever leaked publicly. And your father’s disappointment in you… it’ll kill you. I shouldn’t. I can’t-

But as Kaeya’s lips brushed over Dainsleif’s, more an uncertain question of permission than a declaration or open expression, Dainsleif’s resolve crumbled. A small, delicate gesture, as if Kaeya still didn’t know if this was okay.

I shouldn’t-

Kaeya pulled away, as if retreating-

Dainsleif followed, feeling it as it caught Kaeya’s breath in surprise as Dainsleif kissed him. A gentle answer to a gentle question, an opening to take more if he wanted it.

Kaeya melted into him, hands reaching gingerly for his face, touching as if he’d been given permission to hold an ancient relic he’d spent years trying to find. Dainsleif’s skin tingled lightly, pleasantly, soothingly. His fingertips were still chilled with his magic, and Dainsleif appreciated it, searing the sensation into his memory. The taste of something bittersweet, too, found a place in Dainsleif’s memories, carving out a place more at heart than in mind - the wine he favored, if he wasn’t mistaken. And his scent…

…He’d never craved it so much in his damn life.

When Kaeya pulled away again, a soft flush had already risen up to his cheeks. “...Dainsleif..?”

He didn’t trust his voice to be steady enough for this, meeting his eyes instead.

“We shouldn’t…” Kaeya reached to set his hands on his shoulders, his body betraying him. “...We shouldn’t be doing this. This isn’t… It’s not…”

Dainsleif let his palm linger over his chest. His heart beat way too fast. He let the other find Kaeya’s waist instead - not grabbing, not holding, not cutting his exit if he wanted to back out, but… he didn’t want to withdraw entirely. Not when his words continued to fail him-

“This isn’t an order.” Kaeya managed. “You don’t have to do this. Not if you don’t wish to. If even an ounce of you doesn’t want to be here then… then go.”

His eyes glazed over, his voice shook.

Dainsleif pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips, then to the other side.

Kaeya’s arms slid around him, like a string finally snapping, and met him halfway again, more steady and more certain and impossibly more gentle as their lips found one another.

Again. And again. And again.

Chapter Text

Something soft brushed through Kaeya’s hair, pulling him gently out of his slumber. “Mm… Give me a few minutes…”

“I wouldn't keep your father waiting if I were you.” Dainsleif warned, voice quiet as he pressed a kiss to his temple. “You’ll need time for the scent neutralizer to kick in.”

“It’s too early for this.” Kaeya grumbled as he rubbed his eyes, before finally sitting up. The familiar soreness at least grounded him a bit more firmly in reality, if nothing else. “...Don’t ever let me put neutralizer off until the morning again.”

“I believe you said that the last three times.”

…Did he?

Kaeya stretched. “Know anything about what he wanted?”

Dainsleif shook his head. “No. But he looked… irritated.”

“Irritated?” A nod, and the last bit of sleep fog finally cleared from his head as he pushed back his covers and slipped out of his bed. “...I’ll be ready soon.”

If his father was already starting the day off irritated, then… this couldn’t be good.

Kaeya took care to apply scent neutralizer liberally after showering, particularly around his neck and chest and hips, where the steely scent of Dainsleif often clung to. He always had the strongest stuff he could find, carefully tucked away in baskets between other various bath salts and soaps, but just to be on the safe side, he also washed up with soaps smelling heavily of vanilla. When he dressed, he reached for the more traditional high necklines Khaenri’ahns often favored in their fashion - he dabbled at times with leaving his throat and collarbones exposed, finding deep amusement in the people who that gave him double-takes and the types that got sucked right in at the sight, but considering all those blouses would likely also leave bite marks exposed, it wasn’t something he could indulge in, not often. He took care to also check in the mirror and ensure nothing else was left too open. Dainsleif was always cautious in making sure whatever marks he left behind could be easily concealed, such as the small crescent-shaped indents around his hips from nails digging in too hard, but there was no such thing as overly cautious when it came to a matter this delicately private.

And on the note of delicate matters…

Kaeya finished buttoning and tying off his shirt into place, hair wrung out and braided loosely to the side. 

He ought to hurry and go find his father already. No need to leave him in a worse mood than before.

The soft crinkling of paper faintly reached Childe’s ears, but he didn’t register it despite the silence of his personal quarters. Even the muffled hustle and bustle of Liyue Harbor nearby did little to reach him where he sat on his bed.

To: My Loyal Knight

From: Tonia

He could practically hear the quiet giggle she must have given as she sealed the letter. She’d always done that before when she got to do something she found fun. He’d know the distinct sound anywhere. And the handwriting was neater than he remembered. She’d be learning cursive before long, wouldn’t she? He certainly had around her age.

Or maybe he’d been younger. She and Anthon were… ten, now. 

Yes, that sounded right. He’d lit ten candles in their honor earlier this year.

Childe held the letter opener in one hand. Letter in the other.

But the letter opener was trembling too much. What if he accidentally cut the letter inside..? What if he messed it up? What if they’d written to him to never..? Or to come back…?

…

…

…

…No. Not today, it seemed. He didn’t want to accidentally tear the letter inside.

Childe returned the letter opener to his drawer. Set the letter atop the growing pile from all the other mail he hadn’t had a good chance to open yet.

Maybe tomorrow, then.

He needed to sleep for now.

Kaeya braced himself with a breath, before reaching up to knock on the door into the dreaded study. “...Father? You wished to meet with me?”

“Yes. Come in.”

He gave a final glance at Dainsleif. He said nothing, but just meeting his eyes briefly was enough to help him steel his resolve. Kaeya pushed the door open, stepping inside before Dainsleif followed after, giving a bow as expected of knights.

Kaeya didn’t bother. Not when Pierro didn’t bother to look at him just yet anyways, wordlessly gesturing to the chair across from his desk. The one that always felt just a bit too big. Pierro had bags under his light eyes, but that was nothing new for him - what Kaeya didn’t like was the way his hair looked out of place, as if he’d been running his hands through it. The fact he stared so intently at a letter in his hands was even less assuring.

Worst of all, though, was the seal. Kaeya knew the seals of every family in Khaenri’ah like the back of his hand, and this matched none of them. And worse still was that he knew what it did match to. How could he not, when he’d seen this very symbol appear right when everything had gone to complete and utter shit in Mondstadt?

“The Tsaritsa seems to have made her move.” Pierro sighed. “She seeks to make an alliance with Khaenri’ah.”

An..? “Why?”

“I have been wondering the same thing.” He set the letter down, laying his palm flat on top of it as if to stop it from disappearing or crawling away. “Did you run into any Fatui members while you were on your mission?”

Kaeya crossed his arms. “I told you, the closest I ever came to any of them was Lady Signora at a distance. Crepus never took too kindly to her presence.”

“Did she ever see you?”

“No. I thought it was best to stay away from anyone too close to the Archons.”

Pierro pinched his brow. “She found out about you somehow, Kaeya. You let something slip. And the longer you hide what you did from me, the more difficult of a time I’ll have fixing your mistakes.”

Instead of clenching his fists, Kaeya raised a brow. “You seem to have forgotten we are on the same side here, father. I am not hiding anything from you. I have already told you all I know. If you doubt me, then there is nothing further I can say.” And before he could press any further- “What does she want?”

Pierro’s eyes flicked to Dainsleif, who gave a single, curt nod, before he looked back to Kaeya. “In exchange for saving your life, she seeks our help on a long-term project. She was unwilling to divulge any details and seeks to meet with me directly for these matters. And as a show of good faith, she offers her best knight's hand in marriage to you. It will serve as proof that we are both fully devoted to this.”

Kaeya stiffened. “...She wishes to have her most trusted involved in the royal family. And you are seriously considering this?”

“I want you to make the decision.” Pierro folded his hands together over his desk, as if he hadn't practically knocked the air out of Kaeya with those words. “When I am one day overtaken by the corruption and am cast out to the Wildlands, you will take up the throne and lead Khaenri'ah. I would like to see how that future may look like. So this decision will be yours, and you will walk me through your reasoning.”

Kaeya glanced at Dainsleif. He found his gaze already on him, steady and unwavering.

“...I hesitate to accept without knowing what project she has in mind.” Kaya leaned back in the large chair, painting a picture of thoughtful relaxation as he idly let his fingers tap against the arm rest. “That said, I may ultimately have little choice. Our military is strong, our defenses are powerful beyond what the rest of Teyvat seems capable of… but the Tsaritsa is evidently an exception, considering the Vision that reappeared. She can clearly worm her way in through our wards, this is not the party I would move to make enemies with when given another option. If I were to reject her, then history suggests she and the Fatui will double down in attempting to get in, likely with more force and hostility. I would rather not put Khaenri'ah in that situation.”

“Then what do you intend to do?”

“I wish to hear her out so we know what we are getting into. Perhaps it may even be beneficial for us.”

Pierro shook his head slowly, saying nothing for now. Kaeya must have chosen wrong… but he knew backing out now would spark even more disappointment. He ought to proceed carefully.

“If nothing else, I can find out how she discovered me and make up for my mistakes.” Kaeya added on. “I did not speak to her nor her agents and Harbingers. This may suggest an… internal problem, if you are just as lost as I am. If I can get close to this knight of hers, that will open the door to me finding out what truly happened. If they remain a threat to our national security, then I can target them and make moves accordingly. They won't be able to rat us out anymore to the other Archons.”

“And yet, you lead with ideas about working with an Archon first, revealing your true priorities.” Pierro sighed. “You really have been gone too long.”

Kaeya raised a brow at him again. “I believe that was your idea, father. I was hardly even eight when I left.”

Pierro's eyes narrowed just a touch. “...You plan to spy on an Archon. You plan to attempt to outmaneuver the Tsaritsa herself.”

“I do.”

“You plan to work with her.”

“Yes.”

“...And just like that, you accept this?”

“I don't see why this is such an issue for you, father.” Kaeya offered one of his sly grins. “You wanted a decisive king, and you wanted to hear my reasoning. I made my choice and I have explained to you why. What are you still unsatisfied with?”

Pierro thrummed his fingers against his desk. “You play a dangerous game, Kaeya. That is what worries me. You put Khaenri'ah at risk by inviting the Archon to meet with us and to accept her leaving her knight.”

“And by triggering her ire, instead of her arriving with knights for protective reasons, I risk her sending knights with far more hostile intentions.” Kaeya pushed back. “I understand I am playing into her hand. But it gives me the opening to find out her true intentions and to stop them quietly. If she raises up a stink, who knows what havoc will find us? At best, we are forced to fight her and anyone that might ally with her. At worst, we could have another Cataclysm on our hands. We're still piecing ourselves back together as a nation since the first - do you truly think we could withstand that?”

Pierro said nothing to this.

“...I thought so.” Kaeya hummed. “I have made up my mind already. I would like to hear her out, without giving her confirmation in advance about my intention to accept. I will have to play it by ear and determine what exactly I can do moving forward, it will depend heavily on what I find. But befriending that knight of hers will likely be my first step.”

He could feel Dainsleif's heavy gaze on him. He tried not to pay too much attention to it.

Pierro pinched the bridge of his nose. “...Sovereigns save us all. I will think this over.”

“Ah. So not my decision to make after all then, is it?”

“It was.” A sigh. “But it has become clear to me that your time in Mondstadt has radicalized you. Perhaps this needs to wait.”

He needed to leave already. Before his heart bled out. He should know by now that Pierro doesn’t trust him. Why did he get his hopes up every time? “And how long do you exactly plan to do that?”

“For as long as it takes.” He gestured to the door. “I will think this over. You’re dismissed.”

“Father-,”

“You’re. Dismissed.”

Kaeya had to restrain himself from flinching, opting to instead shrug. “When can I expect an answer from you?”

“When I have it.”

…He supposed that’s what he got for pissing him off again. He should have thought of that sooner.

Kaeya stood, still not bothering to bow. “Very well.”

He also didn’t bother saying goodbye as he turned to leave. And neither did Pierro. Only Dainsleif gave a polite bow in farewell before following Kaeya out the door.

To my Eleventh,

This letter serves as a reminder to you that I need you ready to leave at a moment’s notice. I understand you are stationed in Liyue currently to help with Northland Bank matters. However, I have a more pressing request that I need your help with. I am certain that my Ninth will be able to find a suitable replacement in the meantime, effective as you are at your work.

I will be traveling to Liyue to meet with you about further orders. I would rather not discuss these in letters. I intend to move quietly and need to meet with you privately.

If all goes as planned, then we will be traveling elsewhere from Liyue Harbor. I do not expect complications. 

Please be prepared to meet with me upon arrival.

The letter wasn’t signed, but Childe had known exactly who it was the moment he’d unfolded it. The Tsaritsa hadn’t sealed this officially, but that was to be expected if she was making discreet moves right now. Discreet enough that even he didn’t have any details on where and when, exactly, this meeting was taking place.

Really, that could have at least been included as a hint somewhere for him to piece together. But he supposed being greeted by a dove white as snow at his window wasn’t all that bad - the soft cooing sounds had been quite the pleasant wake-up call, even.

He nudged aside branches as he rounded the bend, Liyue Harbor far beneath him out of sight and the bird reaching their destination. Though she had made the effort to disguise herself, there was an etherealness to her she never could quite contain, even as she quietly sat alone on a rocky, makeshift bench. Perhaps that was why she went through such great lengths to meet with him out here, away from the prying eyes of Liyue and hidden among rocks and boulders.

She turned as the bird turned to snow and vanished, leaving behind only traces of coolness on Childe’s face as he approached and lowered his head into a bow. “Good morning, Tartaglia.”

“Good morning, Your Majesty.” He tugged a polite smile to his face. “I’m pleased to see you made it safely.”

“You and I both.” She held her hands in her lap just as she did on her icy throne back home, posture straight and proper but never quite stiff, eying him passively. In calculation, perhaps. “You already seem ready to travel, too.”

“Naturally.” He shifted the weight of the bag over his shoulder. “I’m afraid I only don’t know where to just yet.”

“Whether or not we travel at all may well depend on your answer.” She tipped her head, just slightly. “Tell me, Tartaglia. If a political marriage proved beneficial to Snezhnaya, but was not commanded of you - would you agree to it?”

A political…?

“I take it you’d be the one making that arrangement?”

The Tsaritsa gave a small nod in answer, and his brows knit together.

…A marriage? To me? Truly?

…Well. It’s not as if I was ever going to find anyone on my own anyway. Not like this. If I can’t find a mate, I can at least offer my hand for Snezhnaya, maybe find a friend along the way if I’m lucky.

…Or, I guess, accept someone else’s hand? Is that how that works?

And if Her Majesty herself is the one setting us up, then if that isn’t going to be the best case scenario for me, I don’t know what is. She’d never pair me with someone I can’t get along with.

“Then I’d do it.” Childe smiled, finding it coming easier than his usual polite smiles. “If it was necessary or beneficial, I’d agree to it without issue.”

“Excellent. Then it seems we will be traveling after all.” The Tsaritsa stood, smoothing down her robes. Simple traveling clothes - well-made ones, yes,  but with far less of the grace and refinery of what Childe was used to seeing her in. If not for some sort of innate grandeur to her, be it by the nature of being an Archon or by the way she must have grown up in the past, she might have almost seemed human, more so than he was at this point. “I don’t believe I need to explain to you that this must be kept quiet.”

…She really is marrying me off to someone? Now?

Oh, fuck, wait- If she’s already agreed to pair me with an omega-

I should tell her-

“A lost family will one day be led by their son. An alpha, of course, who will need a suitable spouse to work alongside with.” Her Majesty continued as she practically glided past him, intent to set off immediately and perhaps not realizing how he startled. Did she know he wasn’t-? “I wish to make an alliance with this family, for our goals seem to be one and the same, and I can see you would make a good match with its heir. The current head has accepted my offer and awaits our arrival.”

…How did she..?

Childe fought the rising heat to his cheeks, turning to follow her away from the clearing. Perhaps it was best not to discuss it any further - the bigger of a deal he makes out of it, the longer he’ll be thinking about it. Best to just move on for now, no? “Where are we going?”

“First, to Sumeru - more specifically, the desert. We will need to avoid eyes on the way - it would be unwise for anyone to discover me beyond my borders.”

Childe frowned, the sun in his eyes as they left the clearing. “Forgive me for asking, Your Majesty… but will you be alright going through sun and heat that intense?”

“I will manage.” She didn’t sound offended by the question - but then, it was rare she emoted much at all. “However, do bear in mind we will primarily travel at night. It will be easier to remain undetected if we do so.”

And keep her from melting under the heat, if that was something Cryo Archons had to worry about. He wasn’t sure a little sunlight would do that to her, she seemed too strong for that… but he wasn’t going to pretend like that wasn’t a factor. Surely it had to be? “Understood. I’ll prepare myself accordingly, Your Majesty.”

“Excellent.” She half-hummed. “If you need to make any final preparations or adjustments before we leave, now is the time. Otherwise, we set off immediately.”

“I’m ready anytime.”

“As expected. Come, then.”

“We shouldn’t.” Dainsleif sighed as Kaeya reached for a second glass once his own was full. “You have a meeting soon after waking, if I recall correctly. You will not have enough time to wash out my scent.”

“Ah, Dainsleif, you worry too much.” Kaeya mused as he filled the second glass. “I don’t have such intentions in mind tonight. Though… now that I think about it, it’d be quite amusing for Lord Haakon to insist something so scandalous without undeniable proof.” A laugh as he offered the glass. “No, this is in celebration. I’d be quite grateful if you were to share a toast with me.”

Dainsleif accepted the glass after a moment. “...Just a sip, then. What is the occasion?”

Kaeya reached for his glass once the bottle was down. A shame he couldn’t get his hands on Dandelion Wine, not without leaving and being gone for weeks and getting into a metric shit ton of trouble… but it would have to do. The wines made in Khaenri’ah would never compare, and he’d accepted that when his longing for Mondstadt had damn near overwhelmed him and he drank himself stupid in an attempt to feel at home. It wasn’t worth the hangover that came after, nor the heavy scolding he received for his troubles - Kaeya made the mistake of defending himself because he’d just stayed in his room and hadn’t caused some massive public scandal, but Pierro wasn’t satisfied, not when the nearby staff and posted guards could hear him sobbing even through the thick stone walls of his chambers, staff and guards that would inevitably talk behind closed doors on this matter. The wine didn’t bring him home, and if all he got out of it was a headache and scolding, it just wasn’t worth it. But for little celebrations, the small victories he could claim for himself… it would suffice.

“A toast, to what little freedom we’ve secured here.” Kaeya raised his glass. “You and I have a safe future ahead, Dainsleif. For as long as we keep this behind closed doors, we will have one another.”

Dainsleif frowned. “Did you not agree to marry today?”

“I did.” Kaeya hummed. “Do you truly believe this marriage will be anything more than a public show? That knight is more than likely in a similar position to me, getting married off to a man he’s never met before and having no choice but to obey his Archon. His heart will more than likely belong to someone else behind closed doors just as mine does. And if we come to the very reasonable agreement of keeping public face and having our private lives separated with the people we truly do love, then what reason is there that keeps us from covering for one another? It is quite the mutually beneficial arrangement, is it not?”

“And if he does not agree?”

“He will.” Kaeya assured him, glass still raised. “...I can be quite convincing when I need to be, my beloved. You needn’t worry about these.”

Dainsleif finally reached for his own glass, though didn’t quite look sure just yet. “You plan to continue this, then. Even as a married prince.”

“We’ve already hidden this from the eyes of the public and my father alike for two years.” Kaeya offered him a grin. “I fail to see how this is any different. It’s better, if anything - my supposed husband will know and be alright with it. That is one less person we must hide from, and one more helping us cover it in exchange for providing him a cover for his own relationship.”

“Very well.” Dainsleif gave a nod, satisfied as he finally clinked their glasses together. “I trust your judgment, my dear calla lily. To us, then, and our secured future.”

Kaeya felt his smile softening at the edges as they both took a sip of wine, the taste of something vaguely like home curling around his tongue.

It was nice to feel good about his future, for once in his damn life. He’d have to enjoy it while it lasted, before things inevitably went wrong…

Chapter Text

“...You seem quite calm, considering the situation.”

Dainsleif offered a curt, polite nod in acknowledgement as King Pierro spoke. “I would make for a terrible guard if I were easy to rattle, Your Majesty.”

“Mm. You speak true.” He turned from the window, glancing at him instead of the servants beginning to put decorations together. From what Dainsleif understood, the marriage wasn't quite set in stone, but knowing The Tsaritsa (and knowing Kaeya, for that matter), odds were that this was going through and preparations in advance would be wise. “How has Kaeya handled this?”

“Quite well.” His chest ached - shouldn't this be the sort of thing fathers discussed with their sons directly? “He looks forward to the chance of correcting his critical error in Mondstadt, as well as getting some answers. I do not suspect him to be stressed at this time - certainly not any more than typical for him.”

“Good.” The king turned back to the window. “I trust, then, that he will not fumble this marriage. It was his error that brought the Tsaritsa into our borders, and I am filled with confidence at knowing he will turn it into our advantage. I only worry that he will stretch himself too thin - I trust you to keep an eye on him and help him stay on course.”

“You wish for me to remain at His Highness's side?”

“I do.” It wasn't often Pierro's voice softened, even rarer still that it was audible. But even a fraction was enough for Dainsleif to recognize it. “He seems at ease when with you. I trust you to continue looking out for him.”

“...Of course, Your Majesty.” He did not allow his face to shift at all. A little twinge and twist of the heartstrings was nothing he couldn't hide. “Always.”

Kaeya wasn't sure what he was expecting when the doors pushed open.

Seeing the knight he was meant to marry, however… That seemed like a reasonable expectation. One that hadn't been met.

And that did not bode well, for how annoying it was going to be for him to navigate court with The Tsaritsa if she didn't even go with the most basic of expectations.

Honestly, why did he think this was a good idea? She was obviously going to keep a tight grip on her current advantage, and she wasn't exactly known to be easy to negotiate with or work with. Or, at the very least, the Fatui were difficult. Kaeya hadn't had any contact with them, but Crepus spoke often about how finicky they were, and even Varka seemed concerned about them at times, of all people. It made sense that the Tsaritsa would give as little as possible.

“Ah, the knight with me? He is here to ensure my safety. Please pay him no mind - this is a routine safety precaution. You understand, I’m sure.”

Her eyes had flicked to Dainsleif at that, who stood guard behind Pierro and Kaeya's chairs at their formal meeting table. 

Kaeya, however, couldn't not pay this knight of hers any mind as discussions began. Beyond just the striking visual appearance, something about his scent didn't sit right. The fact he could smell it at all meant he couldn't be a beta, but it didn't have the sharpness of alphas nor the sweetness of omegas. It reeked of Abyss corruption, yes, he could recognize that from miles away, but that corruption went with a scent rather than overwhelming it. Not to mention, his features absolutely were not Khaenri'an. Sure, he was fair, but that's where it ended - everything else screamed Snezhnayan, from the bright ginger hair to the splattering of freckles over his face to the fact he’s easily taller than Kaeya by at least two or three inches, maybe even had an inch on Pierro and Dainsleif. Too many things about him just… did not add up. And Kaeya didn't like it when things didn't add up.

It’s only been two years since his return from Mondstadt. He knew personally, full well the power that came with things not adding up. His only advantage now is that he knows something is off at all - was the Tsaritsa really banking on him not realizing the discrepancy between the Abyss scent and his clearly non-Khaenri’an appearance? Surely not? Of course there could be perfectly reasonable explanations, but… really, how often was it that things weren’t that complicated?

He’d have to ask his new husband about this guy when he got the chance. And maybe ask this knight what his name is, if he can make a reasonable opportunity for himself. Would certainly make that conversation easier and more fruitful, at least.

“...You wish for us to simply train a handful of your own knights, then.” The meeting continued as Kaeya forced his attention back to Pierro. “I notice, however, you have danced around the question as to why.”

“Ah, forgive me.” The Tsaritsa offered, tone neutral. The skin on her face glittered like the snow back in Dragonspine, and Kaeya ignored the sharp pang of longing piercing through him. “I merely wish to better train my agents is all. You are quite equipped and well-trained here to deal with violent wildlife, are you not? The more of my people I can keep safe, the better it will be for me.”

You’re asking for training, and in return, you offer your personal best knight in marriage? The knight who is so good that you didn't dare bring him into the Abyss everyone is oh so afraid of back on the surface? Is wildlife truly so violent in Snezhnaya as to warrant losing your best knight in exchange for better training?

Something here stunk. For once, maybe he might agree on something with Pierro. “Of course. A noble, worthy, honorary goal. I only wonder how your men will handle such training. Our knights and mages here train from a very early age - they are already accustomed to working with and around Abyss energy by the time they are a few years old, with most already serving or training by fourteen. Attempting to truly master our arts requires dedication and time. I fear you will be quite dissatisfied if we were to make this agreement.”

The Tsaritsa gestured to her knight. “This one is a very quick learner. And as I am sure you have already noticed, he has pre-existing ties with the Abyss. A fine candidate for your training regime, no?”

Ah. So that's why he's here.

…I don’t like the implication that she might have already known. But it’s a reasonable guess to make, thinking someone with Abyss powers will fare better in Khaenri’ahn training. It’s not enough to reasonably think there’s information she has that she shouldn’t.

Well. Apart from knowing about me and knowing about this nation at all, that is.

Pierro finally eyed the knight at her side. To his credit, he didn't stiffen under the king’s scrutiny, holding his stare without flinching. “Too old to be starting, but I suppose it can't be helped.” His gaze returned to the Tsaritsa, but Kaeya found his own lingering as he leaned to rest his cheek in his hand. “What does his record look like?”

“He is not so easily held down. To be frank with you, it is my understanding he has been disciplined often for his… shall we say, enthusiasm.” The knight in question met Kaeya's eye, and similarly, did not back down. “But it has served him well, truly. He has mastery over practically every weapon put before him, aside from catalysts since they do not respond to him. Defeats in battle spur him to try again until he grows enough to succeed, and upon succeeding, it motivates him to succeed even more. He will require something… structured to keep him in line, since he can get quite ahead of himself. But he will not disappoint.”

Kaeya spoke up before he thought better of it. “And your ties to the Abyss? What is the story there?”

Pierro gave him a sharp look - Kaeya didn't bother fixing his posture as the knight responded. “I fell in a few years ago. At fourteen, to be precise.”

Kaeya raised a brow. Likely story. The only way in and out is the Gate. And an interesting choice on timing you got there, knight. “I see. Quite the difficult place to survive in, if you were so young and alone.”

“I was with my Master.” The knight offered, and Kaeya had to fight the amusement from curling on his lips. He obviously wasn't used to navigating meetings and negotiations if he was offering information freely to people he didn't know and didn't understand. “She took me in and taught me much of what I know. I never would have survived without her guidance.”

“And you have lived with something Abyssal within you ever since.” The knight nodded. “Who was your master?”

He hesitated just a beat too long, shoulders going a bit too stiff. “I.. am unsure.”

“Oh?”

“My Master was… not very forthcoming about personal details.”

Translation: I know but I don't want to tell you. “I see.”

The knight gave a curt nod as they both quieted again and Pierro picked back up with the Tsaritsa, Kaeya still fighting to keep from laughing or sniggering too hard. “I am… willing to give him a chance, first. I would rather not waste your time nor my resources if even your best candidate isn't up to the standards we hold. I am sure you understand we are a bit strapped here as it is - the Wildlands are not so kind towards the city’s existence.”

“You’ll have access to more if you are willing to train him.” The Tsaritsa pushed, and Kaeya straightened as he felt Pierro practically bristle at the mere suggestion. “Whatever training you offer to my knight here, he will be able to offer to others. And I would be quite willing to send you aid in the form of additional resources and men.”

“Respectfully, Your Majesty,” Pierro managed in the sort of cold tone that often had Kaeya realizing he's fucked up - it was strange to hear it targeted at someone else for once -, “We will see if your best candidate is even up to par with our typical standards first. We can discuss further negotiations if he does well.”

“Of course.” To her credit, she knew when to not push at least. “What do you have in mind?”

“I do believe an assessment is in order. And what better way to assess his combat abilities than to spar?”

That certainly got the knight’s attention. Though he also knew not to speak as the Tsaritsa gave a small, singular nod. “Who do you have in mind?”

Pierro turned to look at him. “Prince Kaeya?”

Kaeya fought not to physically recoil.

Absolutely not.

He needs a challenging opponent. Especially since that will give you a way to decline the Tsaritsa’s offer without getting immediate backlash. It can’t be me.

“I believe Sir Dainsleif would be a more suitable opponent.” Kaeya gestured to him. “If this knight is truly as capable as Her Majesty suggests, then my measly sword work will not suffice. Not to mention that he also has far more training experience than I, and will be better able to gauge his strengths and weaknesses.”

“Then you and I are of the same mind.” …Wait, you were asking my opinion?! I thought you wanted me to spar- “I entrust this task to you then, Sir Dainsleif.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Dainsleif’s voice responded from behind.

Pierro stood. “Then we have an agreement. Come - there is a training space we can use.”

The Tsaritsa stood, with Kaeya and the knight following suit.

Kaeya caught Dainsleif's eye as they filed out together, the Tsaritsa and her knight trailing behind them at an appropriate distance, a couple additional guards following from the rear.

It's all up to you, now. Leave the door open for us, won't you?

Dainsleif gave a curt nod, before turning to face forward again, though not before Kaeya could see the quiet determination in his gaze, as unwavering as steel.

Of course.

Childe rubbed the blood from his lip, eyes never once leaving that knight as he circled around him.

Sir Dainsleif, right?

Fuck, this guy is good.

He could feel the grin tug up his face as he shifted into position slowly, Electro sparking in his hands. He wasn’t really supposed to be using a Delusion for this long, but… well. He’d been asked to leave his Vision behind before entering Khaenri’ah. He knew he’d get it back eventually and he really wasn’t concerned over not having it, but it did mean he had to rely on other things.

Only, it seemed those other things weren’t going to be enough. Not against this guy.

The unholy things I’d do just to train with you some more… imagine what I could learn if-

SHING-CLANK!

Childe barely got his polearm up in time to block the attack-

Oh sweet Archons WHEN DID YOU MOVE-?!

“Decent reaction time.” Sir Dainsleif was mumbling as he easily deflected Childe’s attempt to punish the missed blow. Like he was hardly paying it much mind. “Short attention span.”

“Excuse me?”

Dainsleif gave no response as he circled around him further. “...Your Highness. Does he drop his guard when-?”

“Yes. He does.”

Childe’s face burned as he adjusted his stance to correct it, even when it felt fine to him. It was strange to get such a sudden reminder of the eyes still on him - he didn’t care much that his Tsaritsa and King Pierro were watching by the doors, but something about that prince’s gaze on the other side of the room hit him in a way he wasn’t expecting, nor sure about. “You’re toying with me.”

“And yet, you still can’t keep up.” Sir Dainsleif commented rather bluntly. “I’ve hardly broken a sweat these past two hours. You are the winded one here.”

Childe grinned. This was starting to remind him of a certain someone. “Give me a reason to go all-out and perhaps I’ll consider trying.”

Sir Dainsleif stopped dead in his tracks, going completely, utterly still. Childe swore he heard barely-muffled sniggering behind him, but did not dare look over his shoulder when he already knew it was Prince Kaeya laughing.

…Ah. I may have miscalculated-

“Go on.” He hardly heard Sir Dainsleif’s voice, with how much it quieted. “Hit me.”

I was kidding-

…

…

Well. Only partially. Either way, no turning back, now.

“Are you sure you want that?” Childe’s grin widened. “You may come to regret that.”

Sir Dainsleif only gave a nod.

Well, then… Brace yourself, this is gonna hurt-!

Childe rushed forward, polearm drawn. Sir Dainsleif sidestepped the attack, as expected - but even as Childe adjusted, he still got away. Every damn time.

No matter, I can-

But, no. 

Every rush forward was met with a sidestep.

Every feint was read through.

Heavy claymores didn’t startle him.

Dual-wielding blades didn’t phase him.

The polearm? Hardly a blink and he was gone.

And the arrows? Oh, Archons, he didn’t even bother with the arrows.

Not once did that familiar mark appear on his chest. No glowing purple Riptide mark.

Archons please teach me-

Childe took an embarrassing stumble for his troubles on that one-

Wait, that didn’t hurt…?

…You’re not attacking.

Why? What are you trying to achieve?

You have a dull training sword, it’s not like you’re trying to spare me from injury.

So… why are you circling me again? Why aren’t you-?

“Come now, I know there’s more in those reserves.” The prince laughed from the outside. “Or was that Abyss story a lie?”

Childe’s eyes narrowed.

A liar? Me?

Oh, I’ll fucking show you-

Forget Electro in his veins, the Abyss flooded through him as he reached deep inside himself, surging to life as-

Oh yes. Yes! YES!

Haha! Now this is what I’m talking about!

It was like going from slugging through water to sprinting through air.

So freeing.

So exhilarating.

So delightful.

And it still wasn’t enough-!

Sir Dainsleif sidestepped. He dodged. Shifted. If he really got lucky, sometimes he just blinked away. Childe couldn’t tell where he’d land. Always too slow.

Slash-! And he was gone.

Woosh-! All air on that strike.

All you do is run-!

“Hm. All that power and none of the finesse to use it.” Sir Dainsleif mused as Childe missed by the width of a hair- “A shame, really. You have great potential.”

Childe swung again. Missed.

Polearm. Blade. Dual-ended polearm. Dual blade. Claymore. Arrow.

Missed. Missed. Missed. Missed. Missed. Hit-

No, wait. Missed.

“Potential, and endurance. Truly a shame.” Dainsleif sidestepped again, and Childe swore that there had been the briefest flashes of Riptide on him- “How well can you dodge?”

“Try me!’ Childe, despite himself, found himself laughing-

WHAM!

Childe stumbled from the hit.

Holy sh-

WHACK!

He hardly had enough time to escape the worst of the second blow-

Archons, it’s a dull sword and I still feel like I just broke a-

WHACK!

Just air on that one, but before Childe could even really get his footing underneath him again and reorient and find out where the hell he’d gone-

WHAM!

“...You don’t seem so concerned about your knight going down so easily.”

The Tsaritsa’s gaze remained on her Harbinger as Sir Dainsleif moved him out, Prince Kaeya close on his tail. “You see correctly, then. He is a resilient one - I have no doubt that he will be begging that knight of yours for rematches in the future.”

“Truly?”

“Mhmm.” She glanced up at him. Though Pierro still practically towered over her, nothing about her presence felt small. “He may not be the strongest in our ranks. But there is little that can be thrown his way which will truly stop him. He is the likeliest among my own to survive.”

Pierro studied her. He wasn’t sure why he bothered, though. Centuries of personal experience and time with this Archon would not be enough to read through her expression if she did not wish to be read, meaning he stood no chance of gleaning anything from her right now. “...He is the knight you promised, isn’t he.”

To his surprise, she allowed a glimmer of amusement to surface. “And what gives you that idea, precisely?”

Pierro crossed his arms as he turned to look at the door the three had just left through. “You know that the Abyss isn’t quite… the safest place in Teyvat. Secure it may be, but the creatures of this place are not to be taken lightly. Moreover, people do not typically do well in the Abyss when raised above. The knight you brought today, however, has already spent extensive time adjusting to the Abyss powers he now carries, and the experience to wield it, even if a bit unrefined by our higher standards. I struggle to imagine the likelihood that you happen to have more than one knight under your banner that you trust and is capable of what you ask.”

“You catch on quickly. I give you credit where it is due.” The Tsaritsa mused. “You are correct.”

“Was there a reason you did not introduce him as such?”

“I was anticipating that your son would be the one to spar. It would have made for an excellent bonding opportunity between them, and would give them a more natural start to their relationship, whatever form that may take. Introducing them immediately as one another’s betrothed would ruin that.” The Tsaritsa studied him from the corner of her eye. “I find it interesting that he did not take up this task for his people. You would think your heir would like to personally vet someone who may yet become a key figure in his nation’s future.”

Pierro fought the flickering tension in his jaw from showing. Nothing he hadn’t done before. “He will, you needn’t worry. They will have time to meet and get to know one another in no time, I am sure.”

“...So? Don’t keep me in suspense. What do you think?”

Dainsleif looked over the knight as he slept, out cold after the abrupt end of their long sparring session. He wasn’t even breathing heavily after two hours of non-stop dodging, not to mention carrying him to the infirmary afterwards. Kaeya had no idea how he did it. “He is brash, just as the Tsaritsa said. He did not hesitate to fight me despite knowing so little about my capabilities, and he did not hesitate in launching his attacks. It is the kind of bravery that borders on foolishness… but bravery nonetheless. I cannot take that away from him.”

Kaeya leaned forward in his seat, chin resting in his hand. “...But?”

“...But, that bravery is a double-edged sword. That lack of hesitation worries me far more than anything else.” Dainsleif waved a hand. “Technique can be taught and honed and drilled in. Yes, he moves sluggishly by our standards. Yes, he is messy and prone to dropping his guard. And, yes, he is evidently easy to taunt - though that may be skewed, considering your own talent.” Kaeya didn’t fight the grin twisting his lips this time. “But that all can be corrected and re-trained, given the right amount of time. Bravery like what this knight wields, however… I’m afraid that is not a material that can be tempered so easily.”

“He’s too much of a risk to train, then.”

Dainsleif glanced at Kaeya, blinking. “...That is not at all what I said.”

…What? “Is that not where this is going?”

“That is something His Majesty will ultimately decide.” Dainsleif clarified. “He is unrefined by our standards, but most are when they begin their training. He has a very strong foundation, and has control over his Abyss powers. Moreover, it’s clear he was trained by someone familiar with Black Serpent Bladework - he will catch up and learn quickly, I am sure.”

Kaeya’s blood chilled. “...Familiar with Black Serpent Bladework. That’s ours, Dainsleif.” Kaeya leaned back into his seat, arms crossed. “Does that not seem suspicious to you? That he supposedly just… ‘fell in’ as-,”

“Hush.” Dainsleif warned, and not two seconds later did the knight stir. “...Later, Your Highness.”

The knight’s eyes flickered open, and Kaeya could practically see it in real time as they wandered around the room before falling on-

“You’re incredible.” Kaeya blinked stupidly at him at the complete and utterly unapologetic awe in his voice as he smiled up at Dainsleif. “How did you knock me out so fast? No, wait, don’t tell me - too slow?” Dainsleif gave a curt nod. “It’s been so long since I’ve had to keep up with someone as fast as you. I’ve gotten quite rusty, it seems. Hah! I’ll have to catch up again. You won’t knock me down so fast next time.”

Kaeya raised a brow. “I do not recall there ever being an agreement to a ‘next time,’ dear. Someone seems to be getting ahead of himself.”

“...Ah, right, sorry.” The knight laughed, sounding… concerningly carefree, considering who he was sparring. Though… in all fairness, he probably had no idea who exactly he’d really just gone up against, did he? “I suppose I am, aren’t I? Forgive me. I do hope you’ll indulge me a little, though.”

“We will see.” Came Dainsleif’s response.

“It’s not a no.” The knight sat up slowly, visibly wincing - not that it seemed enough to stop him. “Just means I don’t know how long I have to get better. But does anyone really?”

Sovereigns save us all, does he ever stop talking-?

….

…

…Oh, wait, yes he does-

Fuck-

“No, I suppose not.” Some smooth-over attempt that was. “I must admit, I am impressed with your ability to change weapons on the fly. It is not so easily learned.”

“Ah, thank you!” The knight’s smile was way too damn bright for a room buried so far beneath the surface. “I learned it from my Master. She was really good at it.”

…She?

Well, that certainly narrows it down. To practically no one. Interesting.

There was a flicker of understanding in Diansleif’s face.

You either know something I don’t, or you caught him in a lie, too.

A brief glance back, before they both turned to Ajax again. We’ll talk more later.

“I see. She must have been, if you’re this capable.” Kaeya leaned a cheek into his hand. “Though, on that note. I understand you don’t know her name. But would you be so kind as to share yours?”

“Share my..?” His face burned as he smiled sheepishly. “Ah, right, I’m sorry, where are my manners? My name is Tartaglia.”

Tar..?

…You’re the Eleventh of the Fatui Harbingers?

But how-?!

“A pleasure, Tartaglia.” He pulled his face into an easy grin as he stood. “I have matters to attend to, unfortunately, you will have to forgive me for not playing host. But I do believe some rest is called for anyhow. Do call if you need anything, won’t you?”

“Of course. Thank you, Your Highness.” A bow of his head to Kaeya, and then to- “And thank you, Sir Dainsleif. For not holding back.”

Dainsleif gave a curt nod in acknowledgement, before following Kaeya out.

Tartaglia, huh…

…Just who are you, really?

And why does the Tsaritsa want you here so badly?