Chapter Text
The port is picturesque as Kaeya stands at attention, arms folded neatly behind his back as he waits. He has been waiting for well over an hour by now, watching as the sun slowly creeps over the horizon. It was just a few minutes ago that it managed to finally heave itself upwards and fully into the sky, only the glow surrounding it still gracing the horizon line with its caress.
Everything else about the port is decidedly not picturesque.
Granted, he didn’t arrive here expecting outstanding sights and smells, but he expected a little more from the nation of commerce in one of their main hubs of trade and, you know, commerce. But the breeze is warm and slightly sticky as it blows in from the ocean, ruffling his hair and making him far, far too warm. He’d even forgone his coat today, as has become his norm, even when it makes his figure far less imposing.
Now, he’s just a random Fatui delegate stood at one of Liyue’s main ports kicking about and apparently getting underfoot.
The fishermen and sailors had already been working when he arrived, stepping down onto the water-slick stones with a soft clicking of his boots. He hadn’t thought his arrival deserved much fanfare, but the port workers apparently disagreed with this, nearly every eye in the vicinity turning in his direction and staring.
And then staring a little more.
Even now he can feel some of their gazes on his back, resting heavily. That may be contributing to the feeling of boiling alive inside of his own skin, curious eyes crawling over the back of his neck like ants.
He keeps his eyes fixed on the horizon line, and on the ship that is steadily making its way towards the harbour. The ship is nondescript, nothing special about it, and Kaeya can hardly believe that La Signora had deigned to step onto such a plain ship. Everything he has seen of the woman is glitter and gold, dressed to the nines, whether that is the woman herself or her office space.
Still, perhaps she was going for subtlety.
He inhales deeply, attempting to shake the last clinging bits of sleep away. Inhaling so deeply only reminds him of the stench of fish hanging heavy in the air – he has no doubts that the smell will cling to his clothes for days after, even if he washes them the moment he has escaped Signora’s company.
It has been nearing the two-hour mark when the ship finally pulls into the harbour, slowing considerably. Agents begin leaping on and off the vessel, looping various ropes around various posts designed to keep the ship from floating back out to sea.
He’d just about been getting bored enough to start watching the fish be hauled in from the fishing boats. He was doing his best to keep his mind away from the fact that he had failed to remember Signora’s reminder to pick out a suitable restaurant for them to dine in during this meeting, and that any potential openings in Liuli Pavilion will have long closed their doors to him.
Some of the fish are still alive when they're tossed from aboard the ship to the harbour, squirming and flapping their fins wildly, as though with just a little more energy they’d be able to throw themselves back into the sea.
Seems a little cruel to leave only a few alive, forcing them to lie above – or be trapped beneath – the bodies of their brethren.
He feels eyes on him and turns his head to look, finding several of Signora’s agents stood at the helm of the ship, watching him. The sun sits behind them, the glare of it forcing him to squint his eye nearly shut in order to even see their silhouettes, let alone guess at what expression they might be making.
He tilts his head at angle, before smiling and waving at the small cluster.
It disperses almost immediately, most of them simply ducking down until he can no longer see them. Kaeya’s not sure what that’s meant to do, as they’ll have to walk away from the helm of the ship, exposing themselves to him once again; unless they're just going to crawl away on their stomach’s like true cowards. They will be lucky if Signora doesn’t toss them overboard herself.
After that, it’s a waiting game of how long Signora’s going to drag this out. The sudden flurry of activity draws the eyes of the port workers away from him, at least, staring instead at the sudden influx of Fatui agents. There are a few snarled curses that even Kaeya would be reluctant to repeat.
It only takes a few minutes for the workers to make the connection between Fatui delegate and Fatui ship before their attention has returned back to him again, their scrutiny weighing heavily on him once again.
Still, the woman of the hour doesn’t take much longer to descend from her ship, stepping down a gangway gingerly, as though afraid she might infect herself with something from the wood. Her agents are arranged neatly on either side of the plank, stood at attention like this is some royal ceremony rather than her arrival in a foreign nation.
She looks around slowly, taking in the port with a look of indifference.
He steps forward as her eyes meet his, pressing his right hand just over his heart as he greets her, “Lady Signora, what a delight to see you at last. I hope your journey has treated you well.”
“The journey was as enjoyable as a ship could hope to achieve, I suppose. I have not faced hardship in the time between our last letters.” She gingerly plucks at her dress, lifting it delicately so it does not drag along the ground. “And you, dear Pavlín, how has Liyue been treating you?”
Kaeya stills, slightly taken aback at the dear before moving on as though it had never happened. The Harbingers are a strange mix of people, and he’s not going to agonise over Signora’s choice of words here. “The weather has been nothing but pleasant, though I sometimes find myself growing weary of the long days here. The long evenings and dark nights are far more suited to my taste.”
Signora hums, heels clicking against the stone. “And of the delicacies?” She abandons her agents at the ship, though they seem to know what they're doing, Kaeya reasons, when he tosses a glance backwards over his shoulder. “I have heard of Liyue’s food, though I have not been able to try it in many years – tell me, is the rivalry between Li and Yue cuisines still ongoing?”
“Liuli Pavilion and Xinyue Kiosk are across the street from each other currently, if that’s what you're asking after.” He ascends the steps first, going slowly as Signora follows behind him. Her heeled shoes are entirely impractical, and he’s almost worried that she might slip if he weren’t so aware that she could slit his throat without a moment’s notice, swiftly enough that his blood wouldn’t even spill on her snow-white dress. “Though I haven’t noticed any fights breaking out between the patrons of the establishments.”
“Shame,” Signora sighs. “I could have done with a little entertainment.”
She seems to be in a rather cheerful mood this morning, a smile tickling at the corners of her lips, nothing like the icy woman he had spoken with before, nor the cold and calculating Lady from the recounting of his agents.
“Speaking of,” her eyes glimmer a little as she looks back at him, something almost like…amusement? But that is ridiculous, what is there to be amused by? “Where is your other half? I was under the impression you two are rarely seen apart.”
“Whoever your informant is, they are rather terrible at their job,” he laughs. “Childe had business to attend to outside of the city more often than not, and I am stuck behind a desk doing an office job.”
Perhaps it is for the best that Childe is outside of the Harbour more often than not.
The memory of a couple months ago still lingers in his mind. Of the blood Childe had dripped on his floor. The blood that had not belonged to him. Kaeya thinks of the way it had reflected the light from his lamp, glistening like some priceless jewel in the low light. He thinks of the way he had wiped the blood away the next morning, considering the dark splotches on the wood.
(The stains are still there. Just…blending in with the grain of the floorboards. Noticeable if you look and know what you're searching for.)
The way Childe had watched him, shrouded in darkness, eyes reflecting the moonlight. Like some cornered beast. Or a monster that stalked in the darkness. Perhaps it was a little offensive to think of Childe like that, but he truly had looked…non-human, at the very least. Otherworldly. Something not meant for mortal eyes, is perhaps a kinder way to phrase it.
Still, it sends a shiver up his spine each time he thinks of it, halfway fear and halfway something else entirely.
That had been the last time Kaeya saw him so bloodstained. His own handkerchief had not survived that evening, stained with blood that refused to wash out no matter what he did with it. He tried all the tricks in the book when he had a moment to himself, away from Childe’s curious, prying eyes.
He kept that stained handkerchief hidden in his breast pocket, only a little cleaner than the first time it had been tucked away there. Away from the itching, manic energy that has begun to overtake his partner recently. It’s the kind that leaves Childe pacing, taking longer and longer walks outside of the Harbour, even when he’s off-duty and has no debt collections to make.
He’s not killing anything. Of that Kaeya is certain. Unless Childe has been bathing before returning to the city, Kaeya would have smelled the lingering traces of blood, clinging to his clothes and hair. Or tasted the ozone in the air, the kind that seems to dog Childe’s heels for several hours after a particularly intense battle, whatever the hell that means.
“He’s having all the fun without you?” No, his eye had not deceived him earlier, that is most definitely amusement shining in Signora’s eyes, twinkling merrily as he smiles at him. “No wonder you looked so miserable this morning, has he been leaving you by your lonesome all day every day?”
“I am surrounded by people at all hours of the day, Lady Signora.” The streets are becoming a little busier as vendors begin calling out their wares and prices, the morning market getting into the swing of things. “It is rather difficult to be by my lonesome when my day is mainly comprised of meetings and exchanges.”
“Ah, but that is not the same. Truly, Her Majesty was right about you.”
Her Majesty? What reason would the Tsaritsa have to speak with La Signora about him?
“You bring news from Her Majesty?” He doesn’t even realise he’s transitioned back into Snezhnayan until he’s receiving dirty looks from the citizens milling around the two of them, and suddenly they’re receiving a much larger berth than usual.
“Nothing of the kind.” Signora actually laughs, daintily and hidden behind her hand, sure, but she still laughs. Perhaps he died in his sleep and he’s been sent to some kind of hell. The kind where nothing makes sense and Signora smiles. “Only idle talk between the two of us. Nothing for you to worry your head over. Now, I do believe we are in the land of commerce, yes? Any vendors to recommend? Any restaurants?”
“No respectable restaurant was able to accept a booking at such late notice. I would have penned you another letter to inform you of this but I believe you would have already set sail by the time any letter reached Snezhnaya.”
“A street vendor then.” Maybe he is dead. Maybe this is hell. He shoots Signora a look from the corner of his eye. “Don’t you look at me like that, Pavlín, I am perfectly capable of eating from a street vendor.”
“I apologise, my Lady, I never meant it in such a way. Just…are you certain you wish to continue in these crowds?” He absolutely does not believe she is capable of eating from a street vendor. Her a Pantalone give off the same aura of I will only purchase something if it will hurt my pockets the most out of all options. The kind of wealth where the person has no concept of how much anything costs. “They can get…a little violent.”
And that’s not even mentioning the reactions they may receive when passersby recognise the Fatui emblem that Signora has draped herself in. Or made the connection between him, a prominent employee of the Snezhnayan bank, and some snow-kissed foreigner accompanying him.
“I have sharp elbows.” Signora tells him easily. “Besides, this is not dissimilar to the markets of my youth.” Her face turns a little sour as she surveys the throng of people ahead of them, “Though they were far more civilised than this rabble.” And there it is.
“Well, I do have a vendor I prefer visiting. I believe you’ll enjoy the food she sells, at least.”
“Mn. We’ll see about that.”
Kaeya finds out firsthand just how sharp Signora’s elbows can be. He feels as though he’s had one of his own icicles driven through his chest when she jabs him instead of the rude businessman attempting to shove his way through the crowd.
He wheezes, both a little caught off-guard by the sharpness of her elbow, and then the iciness of her fingers encircling his wrist and pulling him forward until they burst free from the worst of it. She releases his wrist then, giving him a considering look as she rubs her thumb and forefinger together.
He rubs at his sternum, feeling as though his very bones have been bruised by her lethally sharp limbs.
“It’s, ah, just this way.” He guides them through the much more manageable crowds around Chihu Rock
“Ah, Young Master Pavlín!” Auntie Chen sees him before he manages to see her, somehow. She ducks out from behind one of the draped fabrics at the back of her stall, waving him over eagerly. He doesn’t miss the long-stemmed smoking pipe she tucks away quickly, greeting him with a beaming smile that makes the smile lines on her face stand out. “I had begun to think you had forgotten about this old woman!”
“You are hardly an old woman, auntie,” he tells her in response, as he has every time he visited this stall since his first encounter with the two rival vendors. “You hardly look a day over thirty.”
“Don't waste such flattery on a woman such as me,” Auntie Chen waves him away, laughing to herself as she turns back to her steamers, busying herself. “I have told you there are far better people to use such words on – people that such words would actually work on!”
He laughs alongside her, despite feeling the tips of his ears warm in slight embarrassment. He can feel Signora watching, and it makes him feel self-conscious of every move he makes.
“You could introduce us, you know.” Auntie Chen returns to the small counter with a paper bag, no doubt filled with whatever variety of buns she’s made this morning.
“Pardon?”
“The lady you arrived with?” Auntie Chen looks at him as though he is an idiot. It rather makes him feel like one, especially as she continues talking. “I would assume she is with you, at least, seeing as you arrived here speaking with her rather happily.”
“Oh, of course, yes, this is my…overseeing officer La Signora.” He makes the lie up quickly, not really thinking it through and having to resist the urge to grimace at overseeing officer, even superior officer would have been more believable, even if it left a sour taste in his mouth just thinking of it. “I am showing her the Harbour while her schedule permits it.”
“Well, then aren’t I honoured to have my stall visited my such an esteemed lady!” Auntie Chen positively beams at Signora, truly putting on her best customer service smile in the face of nothing but an icy mask. “I do hope the food is up to your standards. My, have you ever had Liyuean food before?”
She barrels on before Signora can even formulate a response, and Kaeya gets a glorious, front-row seat to watching her brain short-circuit, eyebrows crinkling and breaking the illusion of her mask.
“Oh, what am I talking about, you don't look as though you’ve stepped out of Snezhnaya a day in your life – not to be rude, of course! It’s just that your skin is so incredibly pale; tell me, how many hours of sunlight do you get during the summers of Snezhnaya? Is it as few as they say it is?”
“Give it up Chen!”
Kaeya closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, attempting to summon the will.
“Oh, can it Liu!” And just like that the picture-perfect customer service façade is dropped as Auntie Chen leans over her counter to yell right back at Liu. “I'm serving a customer here, can’t you see?!”
“Oh, yeah, look at you, perfect service yelling right in their faces!”
“I wouldn’t have to do this if you didn’t yell in the first place!”
“Well, maybe you should just let the woman get a word in edgeways, hm? No use bombarding her with questions – she won’t remember half of them by the time you’ve managed to shut your gob.”
“Uncle Liu,” Kaeya greets, before Auntie Chen can start yelling right back at him, starting the argument over again. “I wasn’t aware you were listening.”
“Don't be ridiculous, it’s hard not to listen when that old bat starts blathering on. I'm hardly a foot away from her!”
“You could always move,” Auntie Chen sniffs.
“As could you.” Liu snipes back.
“I'm not the one taking issue with talking.”
Kaeya pulls his bag of mora out, taking a quick peek into the paper bag and doing some rapid maths to work out how much he owes her, carefully counting the coins out. Quietly, so she doesn’t hear him and turn her attention back in his direction.
He sets the coins down to the side, away from where Auntie Chen’s wildly gesticulating arms could knock them into the street, and collects his paper bag before backing away.
Signora looks faintly bemused, eye bouncing back and forth between the two vendors. Still, she seems to find some of it amusing, lips twitching at the sight in front of them.
“We should probably leave now,” he tells her, food in hand. “Once they start going at each other they won’t stop until they’ve shouted themselves hoarse. Or the millelith are called.”
“That’s a regular occurrence, is it?” Signora turns her amused gaze onto him, still smiling slightly.
“Not as regular as you may think, but more regularly than necessary.”
“Hm.”
The walk to the Bank is done is silence, but Signora occupies herself looking around at all the buildings they pass by. Perhaps comparing it to her last memory of the Harbour? However long ago that was.
He finds himself glancing at her throughout their walk, paper bag tightly clutched in his hands, properly considering her. She had been polite, if cold towards him on their first meeting, and the tales spun about her afterwards had painted an entirely different image to what he’s witnessing right now.
He had expected disdain for failing to secure a booking in one of the fancier restaurants in the Harbour. And yet it had been met with easy acceptance when he had admitted to having no such booking. Signora seemed content to mix with the crowd, something that seemed antithetical to the image she projected of herself.
It seems that her image is contrary to her actuality.
Still, he doesn’t expect her opening line, with the door only just shutting behind him and Signora only just settling into her seat to be, “Scorned Child of Mond, tell me, how did you first come to the City of Freedom?”
“Pardon?” He turns partway, hand on the doorknob still. His grip crinkles the paper bag.
Signora is turned halfway in her seat, legs crossed over one another neatly as she leans against the back of her chair to face him. Her eye pins him in place, though the rest of her is loose and relaxed. Every part of her seems to contradict another.
“Scorned Child of Mond,” she repeats, as clear as the first time, though slower, as though she really wants him to hear what she says. “Tell me, how did you first come to the City of Freedom?”
“As any other citizen of Mondstadt did.” He replies as easily as he can. His earlier stumble has cost him, though, Signora’s eyes zeroing in on him as he crosses the office to sit in his own chair. The paper bag is placed between them, a meagre shield. “I trust I don't need to give you the details.”
“Ah, the details.” Signora smiles, a thin, red thing. “Tell me, is there any message you wish for me to pass onto your brother?”
He doesn’t react. He had felt it looming, hanging heavy over his head the moment he shut that door behind them.
“Every clue is in the finer details, Pavlín. I did not meet you before your assimilation into the Doctor’s lab, but even I can recognise the mannerisms of a well brought-up young man. The way you sit, the way your hands rest, the way you talk.”
“Speaking from experience, are we?”
“Yes.” Signora’s eye crosses with his own. “Oh, don't look at me like that. It was only so long until Harbingers began figuring it out, some already have…ah,” something in his face gives it away, “but you already know that, don't you?”
“It is rather difficult to ignore what some of you consider a subtle hint.” He hasn’t missed the dramatics of the Harbingers, that’s for certain. Each of them so focused in having the spotlight solely pointed on them that they attempt to outcompete each other in the most ridiculous of ways.
“You are one of us too, don't forget.”
“I am not looking to forget such a thing.”
“Good,” Signora investigates the paper bag, pulling one of the bao buns free. “I would so hate to leave here without giving you your gifts. And having a proper chat.”
“We’re talking right now, aren’t we?”
“Oh, yes, yes, talking, certainly. I wish to know you, strange thing that you are. Capturing Dottore’s attention is not unusual, but to be kept in one piece – he didn’t even vivisection you! What about you could be so fascinating that he doesn’t want to cut you apart to see what makes you tick, hm?”
“I'm sure he’s still trying to figure such a thing out,” Kaeya replies. Signora’s prying makes something itch on the back of his neck, not uncomfortable but not sitting at ease as he usually would inside this office. He feels as though he missed a step on his way up here and has not yet managed to regain his balance. “Not even the great Doctor has all the answers, hm?”
Signora watches him for a moment, sharp nails shredding the bao to pieces over his desk. She barely has a taste of it, most ending littered across the lacquered wood like petals across the water’s surface. He looks back up, meeting the woman’s gaze head-on.
“I suppose not.” She settles back, trying another small piece of the bao and humming quietly as they share the silence together. “Ah, shame. I did think you’d have something else to say about your mentor. Tell me, did he make you work the terrible hours that every other lab assistant was subjected to, or did he give you special treatment?”
“I often arrived at the same time he did, sometimes leaving later than even he would.”
Signora grimaces at that, and she begins shredding the next bao with a vengeance. He twitches slightly as some of the filling smears over his desk, but doesn’t say a word as she continues to pick over the ruined remains of a perfectly good meal. He silently apologises to Auntie Chen and gives up on trying any of the bao he bought today.
“So you're as bad as him,” she sighs. “How could you even bear to spend time in that place? It’s miserable.”
“I only spent so much time there when I had no other assignments. Otherwise, I would be elsewhere.”
“Hm. So it’s true, then?”
Kaeya sighs. Typical, that this meeting would only be arranged so she could pry and poke in an attempt to get whatever information she’s looking for. Still, he braces himself for whatever his answer may bring and says: “What’s true.”
“Oh, dear, did you not know the lab workers would gossip about you? The things I heard about you through the grapevine, well, it painted a pretty little picture of you and Childe, hm?”
And…yep. Regretting it. Regretting it severely.
“Uh-huh.”
“Oh. Oh.” Signora laughs, and it’s not quite mean but it’s also not nice, in any sense of the word. “You didn’t know, did you?”
“People are hardly going to gossip about me to my face, are they?”
“I suppose not.” Signora frowns, and more bao filling drips onto his desk. He hopes some of it gets on her white dress. “Oh, that’s wonderful. Here, I have a letter for you.”
She produces a letter seemingly from thin air. One with a cream envelope and a black wax seal on the back of it. Signora extends it towards him, offering no explanation for where it’s come from, or who sent the letter. Only holds it out, enticing in its mystery as she waits for him to take it.
He takes it a moment later, hands barely ghosting over the envelope before he’s setting it to the side. For him to look at later, without Signora watching on like a hungry shark.
“Was there anything else you needed?” He asks, as polite as he can muster.
“Oh, no, no.” Signora seems to find this much too funny. Maybe it is funny from an outside perspective, but for Kaeya this is nothing short of embarrassing. This woman is far older than he could ever imagine being. She stares at him, that singular eye piercing with its intensity. “Well? Are you not going to ask about the letter?”
“No.”
He already saw the looping cursive of his name on the front, and the way it curled into a feather on the ‘i’ of Pavlín gave away who the sender may be. Feathered dresses and giggling words, and the Innamorati have lingered in his mind for long enough already. They can stand to be shelved for a moment longer, rather than being pulled out into the light in front of Signora.
“Shame.” Signora looks put-out for a moment, before reaching for something else. “Well, I was hoping to catch both you and Childe, but seeing as he’s not going to make a reappearance I may as well do this now.”
A long, smooth box is set down between them, the silver Fatui emblem glinting in the sunlight teasingly. It makes it look molten, as though the whole box is about to catch on fire.
He looks up at Signora, raising a singular eyebrow as she does not make another move to do anything. She doesn’t even speak.
He reaches forward, passing over the invisible barrier they’ve set between themselves, maintained by the distance of the desk, and pulls the box towards himself. It slides easily over the desk, where he had expected it to scrape and grate against the wood, to make a sound that would fill the silence. Instead, there is nothing.
It continues to be quiet as he undoes the latches, only giving it a second glance when he realises just how many are keeping the box shut. So firmly shut, in fact, that only once he unlatches the second to last clasp does the split in the wood reveal itself.
He flips it open as soon as the last latch falls open, bracing himself for- something. He’s not sure what he was bracing himself for, but the solemnity with which Signora had presented the box; the silence that had followed her announcement; the way she had tracked his movements carefully, as though watching for a moment of weakness…
All of it had made him expect the worst.
Instead, lying on a bed of plush velvet, he’s been presented with two delusions.
He looks at Signora then, gauging her reaction to the gifts inside of this box.
“From Her Majesty?” He asks. He’s not sure who else it would be. Who else it would be that Signora would act as a messenger for. Not sure what else would require a Harbinger to be the postal system. This would certainly not be making it through Liyue’s customs, and he has the sudden, slightly nauseating realisation, that this has definitely been smuggled into Liyue.
“She hopes you appreciate the gift.” There is something strange in Signora’s eyes. Something unreadable. “I think she believes it to be rather…romantic.”
That’s…one way to put it, for sure.
Twin electro delusions sit inside the box, the traditional Snezhnayan frame modified into the swooping curve of an eight-pointed star, feathers clasping the delusion in place, holding it tightly. The other is far more pointed, much like a typical Snezhnayan vision frame, though with the glaring exception of swirling waves holding this one in place.
He stares at them for a moment, before reaching forward and plucking the latter delusion from the box. It crackles faintly in his palm, electricity sparking along his fingers and making them twitch. Perhaps it reacts with the cryo running in his veins, charging the ice that lingers beneath his skin. Or perhaps even a false manifestation of an Archon’s power recognises something as wrong about him.
He rubs a thumb back and forth across the swirling wave, feels the way it dips and curves beneath his skin. Where it presses back into him, denting his thumb. The give and take of the metal.
He shuts the lid of the box and sets it aside for Childe. Later.
“Thank you.” He tells Signora, honestly.
She watches him with something curious in her eye still, something like a smile tugging at the edges of her lips. It disappears as quickly as it had appeared, leaving Kaeya to wonder if it had been imagined when her face freezes over.
“I only did it because Her Majesty requested I do so.” She stands, dress sweeping out as she turns. “I appreciate the meal,” she tells him. The meal that she left the majority of on his desk, ripped into tiny pieces. It’s reminiscent of a scene Kaeya would often stumble across in the back alleys of Mondstadt, where a cat had managed to catch a pigeon, but not cleanly. Not painlessly. The feathers would be left strewn about until the wind caught them, or another picked them up. “May Her Majesty’s will guide you forth.”
“May Her Majesty’s will guide you,” he repeats back. And Signora is gone, door clicking shut behind her.
He frowns, and rubs his thumb over the warm metal of his delusion’s frame. It crackles again, electro stinging the ends of his fingers. They begin to ache with it, but still, he does not pull away.
Signora leaves Liyue the same day she arrived, heading off to her true destination.
Kaeya reads the letter Madam Swan (as she calls herself) has sent to him. And promptly places it, and the little trinkets enclosed within the letter by her and her friends, into a drawer. One that locks.