The Empress' Match - BumblingWriter - 原神 (2024)

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

As the Crown Princess of the Kingdom of Khaenri'ah, Lumine had always known that her life would be ruled by the duties she owed to her nation. She had thought she had made peace with the fact her hand would be forced into decisions contrary to her will.

However, she had never expected to be so enraged by the way those obligations manifested.

When she had first received her mother's orders from Celestia, she had thought it a poorly-thought joke. That perhaps there was someone in the palace suicidal enough to forge the Unknown God's handwriting and risk their head for treason in the process.

She knew in her heart that no such individual existed, for the decrees of Celestia were unchallengeable and absolute.

'The Crown Princess and heir to the throne to the Kingdom of Khaenri'ah,' the decree read, 'shall revive a sacred tradition with immediate effect: the taking of a harem. Her Royal Highness shall accept a harem composed of esteemed individuals hand-selected from the Seven Nations...'

Lumine hated the way she understood the politics of the move.

Regardless of her thoughts on the matter, unrest had been rumbling beneath the surface of Teyvat for some time. To form allegiances to powerful families from each nation through a system of pseudo-marriage was strategic genius, and drastically lessen the risk of conflict. There was no precedent pressuring her to select a King-Consort from the harem, protecting a degree of her own autonomy. The nations themselves would benefit from a clear connection to the elusive Kingdom of Khaenri'ah, which ruled supreme with Celestia's blessing.

Word had been sent, applications received. Lumine wished Aether was there to keep her sane through the process as portraits of men from every corner of the continent began to flood her desk.

The shortlist had been composed, invitations sent to men who would no doubt be sent in opulent carriages draped in finery and riches to win her favour.

Inazuma, though, had sent a strange plea.

The Raiden Shogun requested that Lumine visit the nation herself, promising exceptional circ*mstances. Rumours had it that Kamisato Ayato - one of the most powerful men in the nation - was to be offered to her in a move that would only further disrupt the hierarchy of the nation's three key institutions.

Lumine had accepted on the basis it would be a pleasant opportunity to sightsee.

"Your Highness, you must consider the possibility that this is a trap," Dainsleif, the Twilight Sword, had warned. "Our intelligence suggests the Electro Archon's personality has undergone radical changes of late. After her attempted isolationism..."

"You worry too much, Dain," Lumine replied gently. "I have confidence I could defeat an Archon in combat."

Whilst the Archons had been granted mastery over a single element, the royal twins of Khaenri'ah had been blessed with the powers of seven. It was what placed her Kingdom above and beyond the rest.

Thus, she had nothing to fear. Lumine held her head high before the gates of Tenshukaku.

-

Lumine was not well acquainted with the Electro Archon; the last time she had stepped foot in the throne room had been when she was a child, centuries ago.

The atmosphere was far more ominous than she had remembered, an unsettling tension like the air of a night that was far too still and silent to be ordinary. The room was utterly empty, devoid of a single aide or servant; Lumine, too, was alone. Hardly any lanterns illuminated the dark space, the deep purples of the screens and walls blending into dark shadows cast by the furnishings.

"It is an honour to receive you, Crown Princess Lumine of Khaenri'ah," the Shogun spoke. Her voice had a pleasant, feminine tone, yet the monotonous intonation did little to dissuade Lumine's unease. Her body was obscured by translucent obsidian curtains which had been drawn across the throne, hiding her from view; her silhouette was outlined by only the candles upon the dais. "Welcome to Inazuma."

The emblem of Inazuma hung above, the grand scale of the sigil imposingly cast in cold, plated gold.

"The honour is all mine," she returned neutrally. "Your correspondence was a pleasant surprise, Shogun. I look forward to our discussions." A polite indication that she would prefer to shortcut through the small-talk and be informed as to why she was here.

"Ah. It is a sensitive matter," she assured, and Lumine frowned. "Crown Princess Lumine,to you I shall entrust the most prized possession of the Electro Archon. Guuji Yae, Chief Priestess of Inazuma, shall guide you."

Lumine frowned. Possession: it was unrelated to Ayato, then. Was the timing mere coincidence? She felt her curiosity stir.

"You will not be accompanying me, Shogun?" she queried. A meeting so brief bordered upon disrespect, and though she herself cared little, a slight against her was a slight against her Kingdom.

"I fear I have other matters I must attend to. I pray you forgive the impudence, Princess," the Shogun said, and had her voice been any less lifeless, Lumine may have believed there was a hint of sincerity to them.

As it was, a sliding door opened, and Guuji Yae appeared with a bow. She was a beautiful woman, her demeanour as refined and majestic as the ceremonial silks she wore. Even from a distance, her dusted pink hair, statement earrings, and ethereal ears made quite the impression.

"It is an honour, Crown Princess," she smiled, and Lumine found that she rather liked the confidence she exuded. The swiftness with which her vibrant personality struck Lumine was a stark contrast to the Shogun. "Shall we?"

Lumine did not hesitate to follow her; the sooner she departed from the palace and its peculiarly sinister ambience, the happier she would be.

-

"Might you elucidate on the Shogun's words, Lady Yae?"

The Guuji hummed as though amused. "Ah, straight to business, is it? I suppose that is to be expected from someone with the weight of a continent upon their shoulders, though not all appear to rise to their duty as you do," she mused. There was a slight edge to her voice, as though she assumed the same person was in mind. Lumine wondered if Yae was referencing a certain Anemo Archon and his liberal approach to his station.

"To clarify, the matter concerns your Imperial Harem, Princess."

"I see," Lumine said, though frankly, she did not at all. What possession would serve her in that? The concept of crown jewels did not exist in Inazuma, and even the finest blades and kimonos to decorate the men she would take far from required her physical presence.

Yae continued onwards, leading her through the winding hallways of the palace. They were ascending floor by floor, towards one of the more distant wings.

"It is a pity I cannot offer you the Sangonomiya girl's hand," Yae chatted. "You are not yet accepting women into your harem, I hear?"

In the past, precedent existed for both genders, though frequently one had been clearly preferred. However, her mother's instructions had been clear.

"Not at present," she confirmed.

Yae winked at her. "Write to me if you do."

Lumine could not help but smile at that. Few tended to be so bold in her presence.

"I look forward to a blossoming friendship."

They reached the apex of another set of stairs; the final floor. It was a windowless corridor, strangely drenched in a magic that was not elemental. Lumine felt her guard raise.

A commotion could be heard from the end of the long hallway; the bark of commands, the clash of metal.

"Lady Yae?" she queried. The woman's face had paled.

"Forgive me, Princess," she said. "If I asked you to stay put, would you?"

Lumine shook her head. To be left unchaperoned in a foreign palace, as empty and devoid of life as it seemed to be, was not something she could accept. "Perhaps I can assist, Lady Yae."

The priestess sighed. When they rounded a corner, Lumine recognised the uniforms of the elite Shogun's guard; injured soldiers tended to one another before doors fortified with iron.

"What is the meaning of this? Why has Mikoto not been moved?" Yae demanded.

"Forgive us, Lady Guuji," a short-haired woman said, bowing with a look of anguish. Lumine recognised her as Kujou Sara from the briefing Dainsleif had prepared; a competent military strategist, and fiercely loyal. "He awoke. We... We were unable to subdue him."

He, Lumine thought.

"Open the doors," Yae commanded. "Princess Lumine, I ask that you step back."

The soldiers' expressions shifted to aghast sheets, and Lumine felt a sense of frustration with the bizarre nature of the situation. She was close enough now to sense the currents the doors failed to staunch entirely.

Beyond them, she felt the viscous, crushing fury of potent elemental energy.

"As you command," Kujou reluctantly acquiesced. She waved an arm, and Lumine watched as three soldiers pulled open each door.

Beyond, Lumine's eyes adjusted to view a space that looked almost identical to the throne room, windowless and dour and empty. Four pillars were erected to form the corners of a square, supporting the tall ceiling of the highest room of the castle.

In the centre was a body, thin and pale and young. Short, straight hair the deep purple shade of wolfhook berries contrasted the stainless white robes that draped his form.

He did not kneel willingly. Thick, soot-dark chains had been suspended from the ceiling, pulling his arms in opposite directions high above his head from where black, metal cuffs were wide around his wrists. Dark purple wisps emanated from the chains like smoke, a dark power that Lumine was quick to associate with the Abyss.

A prisoner.

And when he raised his head to lock furious eyes with Yae Miko, he snarled with the vitriol of a vengeful beast.

"Witch!" he spat, his voice hoarse. Lumine was appalled to realise his appearance was as youthful as a teenager; whatever his lifespan, he was young.

He pulled at the chains that prevented his body from charging at her, their mocking rattles echoing around the room. "I will rip you to shreds!"

Yae raised an arm. Her eyes glowed pink with a power that was not borne of her Electro vision; Lumine recognised it as the wielding of divinity.

Her ears had slightly revealed the secret, but it seemed Yae was no ordinary being.

Suddenly, the prisoner was gasping for air, his body writhing in pain as he groaned: choked, anguished sounds. Only his bound arms prevented his torso from meeting the hard floor below as his shoulders pulled at their sockets.

"You can control my body," he sneered. "But you will never have my submission. One day I will claw your eyes from-"

"Silence," Yae spoke, and the prisoner obeyed. Or rather, he could not do anything but obey; Lumine watched as his mouth opened and shut wordlessly before he stared furiously at the priestess once more.

Like a caged, wounded animal, alert to when she would approach despite his inevitably helpless position.

"Sleep," she said, and her voice was softer now. The prisoner's head fell, and the gale Lumine had hardly noticed until it vanished was dispelled instantly.

Yae turned to Kujou. "The fault was my own. The effect of when I first placated him wore off... He needs a stronger master than I. You may inform the Shogun."

Kujou nodded, glancing warily at Lumine. Then, with another bow, she and her men filed out as swiftly as an apple falling from a tree.

"I hope there is an explanation, Lady Yae," Lumine said coldly.

"Yes. Please forgive us, Princess," Yae said with a low bow. "Unorthodox and unexpected as the circ*mstances are, they are nevertheless cemented in reality now. I can only beg your pardon for our rudeness. However..."

She gestured to the prisoner, beckoning Lumine forward.

"The young man you see before you is the son of the Electro Archon. Some might describe him as the lost treasure of Inazuma. Mikoto is exceptionally powerful, as he so aptly demonstrated; however, certain circ*mstances of his past have rendered him... Unwieldy." She offered an apologetic smile.

"I had not heard the Electro Archon has a son," Lumine said. The news was genuinely shocking. Khaenri'ah was far from in constant communication with the Seven Nations, but how could she be so misinformed?

Archons lived for centuries. The concept of a royal family was rare, practically exclusive to Khaenri'ah. For there to have been a Prince...

Yae ignored the implicit question. "Mikoto has not been named an official heir, nor has he appeared publicly. In fact, I must disclose to you that he spent much of his life beyond Inazuma's borders before his return. Nevertheless... The Raiden Shogun wishes to offer him as a candidate for the Imperial Harem."

Lumine stared.

"Excuse me?"

"Yes, it is quite eccentric, is it not?" Yae said sympathetically. "Well, you will find that he is quite handsome, and his bold personality is likely to be interesting, if nothing else."

"He seems to wish to kill you," she said flatly.

Yae's tone became carefully, coolly neutral.

"Mikoto, as I mentioned, is an extremely powerful being, as any son of an Archon would be. He is trained in combat, and his elemental mastery over Anemo is second-to-none without a gnosis. I wager his strength could match an Archon. The Raiden Shogun does, too. Thus, we believe he can be an asset... Provided his abilities are controlled.

"Mikoto is currently subject to a convenient spell enforced with divine power. Through it, he must obey any command of the contractor. Moreover, he is physically unable to harm his master. These abilities make him extremely useful. Crown Princess of Khaenri'ah, you possess divine power in spades. Once I transfer the contract to you, he will be an instrument of complete obedience and loyalty."

Lumine breathed slowly, feeling as though her body had been rooted to the ground. She remained utterly still, her face as calm as porcelain, as she attempted to process the shocking information.

She had known Inazuma was a land with its own sorcery and magic, where Yokai had once inhabited every corner as kitsune watched over mortal and spiritual affairs.

She had never known that there existed a spell so powerful to subjugate one's will to another.

Hearing about it made her feel acid rise in her throat. An awful sensation twisted her gut as she stared at the unconscious form of Mikoto. He was the son of an Archon, yet imprisoned in his own home. She could not fathom why the Raiden Shogun would allow him to be treated in such a way. What had occurred to inspire such utter loathing towards Inazuma in his heart?

She had often lamented her mother's steely rule over her and her brother. Perhaps she was soft, but she felt her heart sink for the stranger before her.

"Khaenri'ah does not practice slavery," she said, enunciating each word with her voice like ice.

"The spell is unique to Mikoto. It cannot be replicated to any other," Yae assured. "You are at liberty to never enforce a single command upon him, Princess. The contract is but a safeguard to ensure your welfare, and to ensure his usefulness."

"Why?" Lumine asked. "You say he is treasured. The son of an Archon would have a worth beyond measure. Why, then, do you offer him to me, under sorcery he so clearly detests?"

The priestess hummed, glancing at the Archon's scion. She seemed lost in thought for a moment, as though drafting her next words with a clinical precision.

It was clear that Yae Miko was not speaking from her heart when she said, "To offer Mikoto's hand is the highest honour we can bestow to the Crown Princess of Khaenri'ah. The Raiden Shogun wishes for the gesture to symbolise peace between our nations. The contract is to your benefit; to have such a powerful, loyal aide at your fingertips... Well, that is truly priceless, don't you think?"

Lumine's eyes shifted from Yae's expression to Mikoto, slumped upon his knees. How much was she ignorant to? It was impossible to puzzle the situation together. Alone in the unfamiliar territory of Inazuma, for the first time in her life, she felt utterly out of her depth.

There was one thing she was certain of, though.

Mikoto was dangerous.

And Yae Miko was far from telling her the truth.

Chapter 2

Chapter Text

Lumine had had the etiquette of politics engraved into her mind since the moment she could walk. Unease pooled in her gut with the sharpness of acid, yet she offered Yae Miko a pleasant smile as though the sight before them was as inoffensive as the weather.

"I am truly honoured by the offer, Lady Yae," she said. "I do not view Prince Mikoto's hand lightly, regardless of the circ*mstances."

As Crown Princess, she was acutely aware of how unacceptable it would be if she deigned to reject the offer outright. Even if they had bound their prince in chains, even if they had severed him from his Vision and oppressed his will through divine magic, to refuse to entertain the possibility could poison the ties between their nations.

The only true choice she had was to accept with the greatest gratitude.

It did not mean she needed to trust the woman in front of her, nor the indifference of the Shogun who she had greeted.

What had inspired Mikoto's fury? When she looked at his body, for all she knew it made her soft, she felt overcome by one emotion:

Pity.

The question was not whether she would accept. It was a question of whether he would hate her for it; she did not wish to shred his dignity as they had done.

"I wish to speak with him alone," she said, though the words grated against her throat. "Would you please wake him?"

"I would not advise it," Yae said carefully. "Without me in the room to subdue him, I cannot guarantee your safety. Though naturally, the contract would ensure he can never harm you."

"My combat experience has been extensive; I am confident I can handle my safety," she said. She held out a hand, and a small ball of Anemo swirled in her palm. She dispelled it with a flourish. "You will be just outside, will you not?"

The kitsune shrugged with a smile of amusem*nt. "I suppose," she said, before turning to Mikoto with a raised hand. She murmured something, and the long chains rattled quietly as his body began to stir.

The iron doors slammed shut behind her before he blinked awake.

Lumine eyed the thick chains that hung from the ceiling. Black wisps emanated from the metal, the smoke-like tendrils rising before vanishing into nothingness. They had an energy to them that pulsed, as though it was alive, and she shivered.

Perhaps Dainsleif had been correct to warn her about Inazuma, after all.

Mikoto woke slowly, though not silently. The room was just quiet enough for her to catch a ragged breath, a moan akin to pain, before he came to his senses.

Deliberately, she dusted the hem of her dress. The prisoner's eyes snapped to where she was, evidently not expecting her presence; he glared as though her very existence was repulsively offensive. There was more to it, though. Intention characterised his gaze; he was waiting.

Lumine wondered what he thought she would do.

Concentrating for only a moment, Lumine felt the elemental energy she commanded surge. She held out her palms, casting a condensed barrier of Anemo that surrounded them as a hemisphere. She lowered herself to her knees, allowing the barrier to grow smaller, no longer constrained by her height; she needed it as quiet as she could make it, lest Yae have reason to burst in.

Closer, she could see the detailing of the cuffs. Engraved upon each was the sigil of Inazuma; three dots revolving around each other. She wondered if the restraints were painful, or if they merely drained his powers.

Mikoto pulled on his handcuffs, snarling as he scowled at her. She met his eyes calmly.

"Prince Mikoto," Lumine greeted, with as much normalcy as she could muster. "I am sorry we must meet like this."

He scowl grew deeper, but only silence met her. He seemed to be protesting by refusing to speak. She waited patiently.

"I cannot say I understand your circ*mstances," she admitted. "Yet I must ask if there is anything I can do to help you and your situation... You do not appear to be on the best terms with Lady Yae."

She was met with silence again. Apparently disinterested, Mikoto dropped his head.

"Leave," he hissed, his voice low and quiet.

She leaned closer. "Pardon?"

Suddenly, something wet landed on her cheek.

When Mikoto raised his head, he was staring back at her with a gleeful smirk.

He had spat at her.

Her fingers brushed the wetness, her eyes wide.

"That's what I think of you," he snarled. "Stop wasting my time."

Lumine focused her powers again, and a ball of Hydro condensed at her fingertips; she directed it towards her face, washing away the mess. When it returned to her palm, a flare of Pyro vapourised the liquid in seconds. Flicking through the elements no longer strained her as it once had; decades of training had ensured it. Still, she had never expected to be using her powers quite like this.

The reaction seemed to surprise him, but his expression quickly gave way to glowering once more.

"I thought you might be interested in what I had to say," Lumine said quietly. "As you do not seem fond of this place, that you would jump at the chance to leave."

His head snapped up again, and the chains rattled as his torso lurched forward. "Explain," he demanded.

Lumine raised an eyebrow. "Nobody told you?" she asked, appalled.

"How stupid are you?" Mikoto sneered, shaking his wrists to rattle the chains mockingly. She shouldn't have been surprised, but her stomach felt like lead anyway. He was a prince. How could they treat him in such a manner?

"The Shogun has offered me your hand, Prince Mikoto. If you wish to accept, you will become one of my royal consorts as part of the imperial harem in Khaenri'ah, which is soon to be established," she said, bracing herself for a reaction. "I am sorry you had to be informed this way."

He was silent for a few moments as his mind digested the information. Something flickered in his eyes; realisation, understanding. Then, he began to laugh. The low chuckle heaved at his lungs as it crescendoed into a deranged cackle that echoed at the edges of her barrier. Mikoto threw his head back, laughing as though it was the only thing in the world to do.

"So she's decided to finally be rid of me by enslaving me to another nation," he rasped, to himself rather than her. "What a joke!"

"Prince Mikoto, I want you to know that-"

"Leave!" he yelled. "I won't be your toy. I never want to see your wretched face again!"

"Your highness-"

"Get out!" he screamed.

His obsidian eyes all but glowed with pure fury. Lumine did not need to be told twice. Anguished, she turned on her heels and fled.

-

"Difficult, isn't he?" Yae said with a tilt of her head as she emerged. Her eyes went to Lumine's cheek, even though she was certain she had wiped away any remnants of Mikoto's disrespect. "I do apologise for his bad manners. I assure you his usefulness does compensate."

Strangely, the blunt matter-of-factness with which she spoke made Lumine far more uncomfortable than anything in her conversation with the prince.

"I would like to speak to him again," Lumine said truthfully, because Prince Mikoto was an enigma she desired to understand. "Although I must ask what transpired to lead to these circ*mstances."

"Mm," Yae hummed, leading the pair of them through the palace. "Perhaps we should discuss this over tea."

-

Lumine was not ashamed to admit she adored the simple pleasure of an excellent meal. Whether it was a simple roast leg of fowl over a campfire during her travels, or the finest seafood prepared by the finest chefs for an imperial banquet, she cherished those moments that she could steal for herself.

On any other occasion, she would have delighted at the sight of the dozens of sweets the palace staff were serving them. As it was, the last thing on her mind was the food.

She eyed the fine, cast-iron teapots decorated with the maple leaves of autumn as Yae explained the famed qualities of Inazuman teas. Small plates of sliced strawberries, mangoes, and lavender melon had been carved into the shape of flowers. Mochis filled with red bean paste and chestnut jam sat upon beds of sakura petals.

Lumine sipped delicately from her cup, but she was in no mood to eat.

The conversation drifted through the monotonies of small-talk: her journey, when she had last visited Inazuma. The extent to which she favoured wielding Electro, for Yae also commanded the element. How the cuisine and architecture compared to Khaenri'ah.

Eventually, she tired of the game.

"Are the sweets to your liking?"

"They are delicious, Lady Yae," she smiled, taking the opportunity for what it was. "Is Prince Mikoto fond of these delicacies, as well?"

Yae's expression flickered to one of curiosity as she leaned across the table. When she spoke, there was a disinterested levity to her voice, a thin veil to her apathy. "He eats what he is given."

"I suppose he could not join us this afternoon," Lumine pushed, disliking the implications of Yae's answer.

"No," Yae agreed with a smile, and she stifled a sigh. The kitsune would tell her nothing unless she asked outright, it seemed.

"What transpired, to lead to his situation?" she said eventually. "I cannot imagine confining his highness to a single room is standard fare here."

"Correct, though I am afraid I am not at liberty to speak much on the matter," Yae replied. "However, what I can tell you is that young Prince Mikoto disappeared from Tenshukaku when he was no more than a boy."

That would explain why she had never heard of him, then.

"You can imagine my Archon's distress," Yae drawled. "For centuries, we were unable to locate him. Only ever so recently was he recovered, his memories warped and his powers erratic... He threatened the destruction of the entire city, and hence we had no choice but to restrain his powers."

She stared at her reflection in her cup. Mikoto was like her, then; divinity ran through his veins, allowing his lifespan to stretch through epochs.

"What happened to him?"

"He refuses to speak to anyone, so who can say?" Lumine was quickly beginning to hate that tone; that flippancy. Did the Guuji dislike Mikoto as much as he seemed to despise her?

"Whatever happened in the intervening years, though, has changed him dramatically. He used to be the sweetest, gentlest soul. His hatred for a land that was for so long his home is inexplicable, and quite tragic to witness."

She could not imagine the way they were treating him had contributed to that, she thought dryly.

"Is he really so dangerous?" she asked.

"Oh, absolutely," Yae said casually. "The scion of a god is nothing to be trifled with. I am certain the Crown Princess of Khaenri'ah can make use of his powers, no?"

She forcibly relaxed the tension in her body. The Guuji was really trying to sell him to her, and it flared her suspicions.

The dark magic of the contract which reduced Mikoto's will to a possession sickened her, but more than that, she wondered what it would do to herself.

A contract was a double-edged sword, after all; she had no metric of what accepting such a thing would do to her body. Was helping Prince Mikoto truly worth the risk?

"I suppose I find it a little hard to believe that the Electro Archon would entrust me with something so valuable," she said. "Why does she desire to send his highness to a foreign land, after having lost him for so long?"

The Priestess seemed unconcerned. "Who can say? I often wish I was privy to how she makes her decisions. Perhaps the Shogun no longer believes it is within his best interests to remain in Inazuma when it brings him such anguish."

Lumine hummed in acknowledgement, taking small, careful bites of the delicacies before asking more questions. However, she had pried as much as she could from the Priestess; she was met with non-answers. A hundred questions swirled in her mind, and she felt once again as though she was feeling her way blindly through a maze.

It couldn't be more obvious that she was not being provided with a truthful depiction of events.

When Lumine attempted to speak to the Shogun, she was refused at the door.

-

At the evening banquet to welcome her arrival, Lumine's attempts at information gathering were met with abject failure.

Naturally, Prince Mikoto was absent; she had expected as much, even if in her worst fears, he appeared with a docile smile and a subdued, plastic expression under Yae's dictated commands.

Instead, she realised that nobody even knew of his existence.

"The Shogun's heir?" Kamisato Ayaka echoed with an innocent tilt of her head. They had been seated next to each other for the meal, and Lumine had taken a liking to her. Shy and demure, she embodied the elegance of a noblewoman, yet with all her righteous competence and kindness, it did not appear she traded information as her brother was renowned to do. "I have not heard of such a person. However, I am not deeply engaged with politics; I fear I am not updated with the freshest rumours."

She had hoped Kamisato Ayato would be of more use, but the lack of a cunning gleam in his eye told her he was truly in the dark, as well. "The Tri-Commission would certainly be aware of such an individual," he had told her, before cryptically adding, "Provided they were recognised officially, of course."

Nothing had ever officially recognised Prince Mikoto's existence, then. Was he even the Shogun's son at all?

The more she considered it, the more everything seemed to be a trap.

Sangonomiya Kokomi had paused before her answer. "There were tales of a prince of Inazuma a very long time ago. From what I read as a child, they described his hair as the deep indigo of the midnight sky the night after a storm who wandered Inazuma helping its citizens. Sadly, the stories seem to be nothing more than fantasy. Are you interested in the folklore of Inazuma, Princess Lumine?"

Even when she had cornered Kujou Sara, the royal guard refused to answer questions about her prisoner. "Regrettably, Crown Princess, my loyalty is to the shogunate. Pray forgive me, but I doubt I could provide the answers you seek, even if I knew more than my orders."

At the end of it all, Lumine was exhausted.

There was only a single person who could provide her with the answers she sought.

-

The moonlight cloaked the palace in an eerily pale light by the time she ascended the keep where Prince Mikoto was held.

There was nobody at the door.

"Forgive me for disturbing your evening, Your Highness," Lumine greeted gently.

Once again, he ignored her.

She set the tray she carried gently onto the floor, and tucked her skirts beneath her as she sat only a few paces away from him. It was midnight, but she cast her barrier once more just in case there were any eavesdroppers. Then, she waited patiently, observing the height of the ceiling in the windowless room.

"You again. Why are you here?" he demanded.

"To speak with you," she said. "I've brought sakura mochi, if you'd like some. A pot of fresh tea, as well."

"No," he snapped. "Leave."

She glanced at his restraints, the way they held his arms above his shoulders as though threatening to pull them from their sockets. The way his bare knees had been left to press upon the hard tatami flooring. The unnecessary cruelty twisted her gut.

She shook her head. "I can't."

He scoffed. "And why on earth not?"

"I'd like to have a conversation."

"You can't force me to talk to you."

"No," she agreed. "I wouldn't want to. But you must be lonely."

To her surprise, he didn't contradict her. She poured two cups of tea; the sencha's liquor was the vibrant shade of seagrass. "Tea?"

"No," Mikoto repeated impatiently. "You're repulsive, trying to bribe a starving prisoner with food. It won't work on me."

"They starve you?" she said sharply.

He glowered at her expression, appearing to think before he spoke. "They would if they could," he said cryptically. Then, more aggressively, "Get out. I want nothing to do with you."

There was something about his demeanour that reminded her vividly of wounded prey. She could not shake the image, and his vitriol rolled off her like water from a duck's back.

"What are you so afraid of?" Lumine asked, and the words seemed to freeze him on the spot. "What exactly do you fear I'll do to you?"

"Shut up," he hissed.

"Why do you not wish to return to Khaenri'ah with me?" she pressed. "I know you did not ask for the position of royal consort, and I am well aware of the kingdom's reputation amongst the Seven Nations. Yet you must know that your safety and comfort would be ensured; you would be treasured. Nobody could mistreat you. Is that not freedom, compared to this?" she asked, gesturing to his restraints.

"I'll never have my freedom again," he snapped. "Don't you understand? That witch has robbed me of even that."

Her expression fell. Suddenly, everything clicked in her mind: the contract changed everything. If he went with her, he would be utterly subjected to her will; he would be forced to do anything commanded. She could treat him as Lady Yae and the Shogun had, and everything beyond.

The known terrors of being locked away in Tenshukaku was preferable to the worst case scenario.

He had no reason to trust her.

In the back of her mind, the quiet voice of reason scratched away. What reason did she have to trust him?

"Don't you dare pity me," Mikoto snarled. "You know nothing about me, nothing of what I've done to deserve this. Haven't they told you? I'm a terrorist, a murderer. Do us both a favour. Leave and forget you ever saw me."

She believed him, but strangely, the admission did not faze her. Perhaps it was because, as the Crown Princess of Khaenri'ah, her hands were far from clean. Perhaps it was because she felt he could trust him more than the Priestess and Shogun who were offering up like some sacrificial pawn, who had devised such a twisted magic to control him. In the end, the result meant more than its parts.

"I can't do that in good conscience," she said softly.

"Then you're a fool."

She smiled. "I must be. Prince Mikoto, I will not force your decision. If remaining in what Inazuma is what you desire, I will respect it, regardless of the political ramifications. However, I hope you are not forgetting that the riskiest part of this bargain exposes itself only to me."

He was looking at her, the closest she imagined she would get to genuine interest. "The contract," she explained. "The Guuji made no secret that it is formed through divine power."

The ability to command divine power, unlike elemental energy, fell within Celestia's domain. Only specific beings could access it: gods, Archons, scions of the former. Not even the adepti could wield such powers. As her mother's daughter, she was one of the few in the world who possessed it.

"The contract is a double-edged sword; if I were to accept it, it would bind me too. I do not know what it could do to me." Aether would certainly strangle her if he knew she was even considering it. "Is the fact I am willing to take such a risk not a symbol of trust enough?"

He seemed to consider her words. The tension in the barrier felt so thick she wondered if she could slice it.

Then, Mikoto sneered, shattering the atmosphere built between them.

"As I said, all it means is that you are a fool. The only reason you could want me is to use me. If you're willing to take such a risk for my power, you're demonic. I will not be your pawn, Princess," he said, spitting her title like it was filth.

Lumine knew she wouldn't persuade him otherwise, but she spoke despite it all. "That truly isn't the case, Prince Mikoto. I already have everything I could want. Whether you believe me is up to you."

"Must be nice," he muttered, his tone especially bitter.

Silence settled over the pair of them once more. Wordlessly, Lumine offered him the cup of tea by holding it out to him, and he snarled at her like a riftwolf preparing to bite. She sighed, and set everything on the tray.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"For what?" he demanded.

"I am sorry that I can't help you."

She dispelled the barrier, and stood to leave.

That was it, then. She supposed she was doing herself no favours by allowing her curiosity to run rampant. It was not her place to involve herself in another nation's affairs, especially not a situation so clearly darkly dangerous. She would reject the offer, and she imagined Kamisato Ayato would be sent to the palace in Mikoto's stead.

When she was only a few paces from the door, Prince Mikoto spoke.

His tone was hesitant, subdued, but it was one of the most melodious sounds she had ever heard in her life.

"I... hate sweets," he said. "Bring me something astringent next time."

Lumine could not help the smile that spread across her face as she said, "Goodnight, your highness."

Chapter 3

Chapter Text

Breakfast the next morning was a formal affair, and one Lumine could not easily escape from as she met with the Tri-Commission's representatives. In a choice that she could only assume was premeditated, Kamisato Ayato insisted upon a providing her with a personal tour of the city.

She felt a little guilty at the way her mind wandered in his company, evident as it was that he expected to be offered to her harem.

"Although I have never seen the spires of the Khaenri'ahn palace, I have heard tales of its beauty," Ayato said. "I dearly hope I shall one day have the pleasure of admiring its architecture."

"I look forward to welcoming you as an honoured guest," Lumine said, her voice laced with the sweet intonations of one pretending to know less than they did as part of polite conversation.

She could sense vividly the way he hated the idea of becoming her royal consort - it eclipsed even Prince Mikoto's open hostility. She hoped for the both of them it need not come to pass.

"Lord Kamisato, I do admire your sense of duty," she continued. She could not help but pointedly add, "The Tri-Commission is fortunate to have such a cunning mind. I have heard much of your shrewdness, especially in selecting allies."

"High praise, Princess," Ayato replied, looking at her a little curiously. It was the expression of a man who had far too much experience with mischief to be intimidated by her implications. "Though I am nothing compared to Your Highness."

She smiled. "Might I be candid with you, and ask for your assistance in a rather confidential matter?"

He looked at her with a gleam in his eye. "How might I be of service, Your Highness?"

"I would like to visit the finest furniture shop in the city. Then, may I have your recommendations for the most bitter sweets in Inazuma?"

-

Prince Mikoto looked, as ever, utterly unimpressed by the sight of her. His expression exuded shameless disdain as though he was not the one who practically invited her to return.

"Good afternoon, Your Highness," Lumine smiled, in high spirits. She cast the barrier without so much of a wave of her hand, and she set the objects she was carrying before him with an almost childlike pride. "I come bearing gifts."

The prince looked sceptical at best.

"What use do I have for these?" he scowled, staring at the square silk cushion and small plate of matcha-flavoured mochis and confectionery like they were offensive.

"May I place this beneath you?" she asked. The levity had drained from her voice when she said, "It can't be comfortable, to be forced in your position."

The long, dark chains suspended from the ceiling hung over them both, impossible to ignore. They tapered to cuffs that fixed Mikoto's wrists high above his head on either side of his body, forcing him to remain upright; short shackles chained his ankles to the floor, preventing him from standing.

The result was he was forced forever to his knees. She at least wanted to alleviate the pressure; the hardness of the bare tatami was unforgiving.

Regardless, he stared at the cushion with irritation. "I have no need for such a thing."

"Prince Mikoto," Lumine said with a frown. "I insist."

"Don't push your luck," he growled, his eyes suddenly flashing with anger once more. "How dare you try to bribe me with mere mortal possessions when you threaten me every time we talk. If you're trying to manipulate me, you're doing a ridiculous job."

She frowned. "Threaten you?"

He didn't answer.

"I am afraid I do not follow, Your Highness," she said carefully, retreating to the shell of formality once more. "In what way have I threatened you?"

"Don't play stupid," he snapped, tilting his head to the barrier. "Mocking me with my own element, are you?"

Her eyes followed his. The translucent Anemo hemisphere surrounding them was almost completely silent, generating only a light breeze that ruffled the strands of her hair.

She dispelled it immediately with a wave of her hand.

"I apologise. That was not my intention," she explained. "I only wished to isolate our conversation so I could speak to you in confidence. I did not mean to make you uncomfortable."

Mikoto was silent for several beats. Refusing to meet her eyes, he said, "Put it back." Then, more angrily, "You should have explained yourself."

She could not help but tease him as she complied. "Have you never cast such a barrier yourself, Your Highness?"

"Silence," he said, annoyed. "My powers are... a recent development."

The admission surprised her.

If the element of the God of Freedom had been bestowed on him since he had been imprisoned, then that was a cruel fate indeed.

"How long have you been here?" she asked softly.

"How should I know?" he huffed. "The Lantern Rite must have been a season ago."

Four months, then, if it had been this year.

That was a long time.

"What were you doing before then?"

Mikoto made a noise of irritation. "I said don't push your luck. I detest arrogance."

"Alright," she said easily. She reached for the plate of sweets. "May I?"

"I don't want them," he said sternly, and Lumine wondered if he would ever adopt a kinder tone with her. She possessed enough maturity that it barely affected her for the most part, but that did not make it pleasant to endure.

Then again, if her freedom and her will itself had been stolen from her, she would be bitter, too. The pool of her patience was not easily drained in the circ*mstances.

She did not expect Mikoto to initiate the conversation again first.

"I answered your question, so you'll answer one of mine?" he asked. He spoke roughly, but there was a tentative note to his voice.

"It's not as though we are bartering information. I am happy to answer anything, within reason."

"Whatever," he said. "Your harem. Why is Khaenri'ah reviving such a dated, backwards tradition?"

He was aware it was a tradition, then.

She folded her hands in her lap, lacing her fingers together to ease her discomfort.

"To tell you the truth, I do not know. I am to establish it at my mother's request. The intricacies of her reasoning, I am not aware of," she explained. "Although I was conflicted at first... I must do as she asks."

Mikoto stared at her with an intensity she had not seen before, as though he were truly seeing her for the first time.

"What is it?"

"Nothing, it's just..." he trailed off, blinking at her. "I wonder if all scions are the mere puppets of their gods."

She had never thought his voice could become so soft.

Her mother didn't see her that way, she wanted to retort. Then she thought of Aether, her dear brother who had been missing for all these years, and the one responsible for his departure.

It's not like that for me. The words were almost on her tongue; her jaw refused to move.

"It's complicated," Lumine said instead, feeling the sudden urge to close the discussion.

He looked at her, his face impassive. Then, he raised a brow.

"Alright," he said, relenting with the tone a person used when their repertoire of scathing remarks had yet to run dry. "What are you waiting for, anyway?"

She followed his eyes to the cushion. She could not help the smile that tugged at her lips, the heavy atmosphere forgotten.

Obligingly, Mikoto rocked onto the balls of his feet, lifting his knees off the ground momentarily; it was as much as his restraints would allow. Lumine slid the cushion beneath him, and he rolled the joints of his shoulders as he settled into the new position.

He shifted a few times, adjusting his posture.

"What?" he said, glaring at her, but there was far less heat to it. "You aren't expecting some grandiose gesture of thanks, are you."

"Is it comfortable?"

He rolled his eyes. "It's just a cushion. But it's not bad."

She beamed. "Good."

"Don't you have other things to be doing?"

"They can wait," Lumine smiled. "Besides, I still have to tempt you with these matcha mochis; they were custom prepared by the Kamisato Clan's private chef for bitterness."

He simply turned up his nose at the sight of them.

"I hate sticky things," he muttered. "Bring me something else."

Her face fell, though only for a moment before she grinned again.

"My, Prince Mikoto," Lumine said, her mood impossible to douse. "If you keep saying such things, I might start to believe you actually enjoy my company."

-

When Lumine stepped into the courtyard as she left the keep, her eyes were drawn to the brightness of petal-pink hair.

"Lady Yae," she greeted. "Good afternoon to you."

"You look in high spirits," Yae drawled. "I trust you are enjoying your time in Tenshukaku.You do visit that room often, don't you? Though you are still yet to accept our offer. Are you making process with the stroppy one?"

"It's hard to say," she said, because it was; it felt oddly like a betrayal to disclose her true feelings. "There is no possibility he might be able to join me properly for dinner?"

The Guuji shook her head. "Whilst you house enough divine power to easily hold the contract, I fear my abilities - delegated as they are from the Electro Archon - would struggle. I had thought I had it under control, but given he awoke and broke free from my hold as you remember from your arrival... Well, suffice to say far be it from me to ever risk the Crown Princess of Khaenri'ah's safety."

"You are that certain he would pose a danger?" Lumine frowned. Ultimately, Mikoto would only be dangerous if he so chose to be. The Prince's hatred for Inazuma must have been immense for Yae to be so certain.

"He has not outgrown his tantrums," Yae said, a coolness to her tone.

"One would think you would be singing his praises, encouraging me to accept his hand," Lumine said, unable to keep the edge of suspicion from her tone. Did she and the Shogun really not have nefarious intentions, or was it simple reverse psychology? "Instead, you appear to be disparaging your own offer to Khaenri'ah."

"Not at all, Your Highness," Yae said smoothly with a laugh. "You of all individuals are sharp enough to be aware that his strength speaks for itself. An Archon's scion, the Prince of Inazuma; the offer is excellent, despite his attitude. I only wish for you to know what you are signing up for."

Lumine was not sure she ever could.

"I appreciate your counsel," she said politely. Whenever she spoke to Yae, she felt as though she was talking to a snake.

"Ah, I almost forgot," the kitsune said. "The Shogun has requested you return your answer by the end of tomorrow."

A deadline. Lumine bristled.

"May I ask the reason?"

Yae only shrugged. "I wish I knew."

-

Lumine set the tray down with a bemused expression on her face, despite the pressure she felt from the deadline.

"Are these offerings acceptable enough, Your Royal Highness?" she teased. "I pray you find something to your liking."

Ignoring her, Mikoto eyed the ornate wooden tray discerningly. A raw salad of curly, dark leaves and herbs had been drizzled with fragrant sesame oil as an appetiser. Slices of unripened lavender melon had been arranged into flowers. An iron pot of oversteeped green tea to accentuate its astringent compounds complimented the light meal.

When Mikoto's expression softened, Lumine felt as though she had gathered the stars in her hands at last.

"You did well," he said, and the sincerity in his tone was like a cleansing light. "After so many attempts."

"Has anyone ever told you that you are a picky eater," she sighed, her bubble of joy thoroughly burst.

Mikoto looked annoyed. "If I am to bother with eating, I will make it worth my while."

She poured the tea. "That doesn't sound healthy."

"You really don't know the first thing about me," he remarked, though he said it like a fact.

Lumine thought of the deadline with barely twenty four hours left. If he refused to go with her, then she would never know him.

"Would you let me?" she challenged.

He scoffed. "Don't push your-"

"Luck," she finished dryly. She nursed the hot tea between her hands. "I'm sorry. Lady Yae would not allow you to join me for a proper meal. She seems convinced that you're too dangerous."

"I'm very dangerous, to her," he said darkly.

And to me? Lumine wanted to ask.

"I'm afraid there's only one way to do this, then," she said instead, nodding towards the tray.

"Do you take me for a fool? How else was I ever supposed to eat," he said, rattling the chains around his wrists pointedly once more. "Probably why they've never bothered to feed me anyway. Despite what you might think, I am not so immature as to make a fuss."

Truthfully, part of her had thought he would try to bite her.

"The magic of the contract, does it remove the need to eat?" Lumine asked as she picked up the salad. It was unfathomable he would still be alive, otherwise.

"Something like that."

His eyes tracked her so carefully as she shifted closer, delicately plucking the first salad leaf from the bowl and moving it closer to his face with her chopsticks.

His discomfort and tension was so clear in the lines of his shoulders and face. His body language all but screamed that he would rather be doing anything else. Lumine saw it again; that vulnerability in his eyes. Distrust. Fear.

Mikoto took the leaf in his mouth, chewed slowly, and swallowed. He said nothing, and she was about to pull back and suggest that they cease when he looked at the bowl again expectantly.

Taking the hint, she continued. They went on like that for a while, the silence paradoxically comfortable yet filled with tension the way watching a performer cross a tightrope for the hundredth time before a crowd of spectators would be. Predictable, yet ever-anticipating a sudden change.

Closer, she could see his features more clearly: the roundedness of his eyes; his full, dark lashes. How flawless his porcelain skin was.

If he noticed her staring, he ignored it.

"That was good," he said when he had finished. He glanced at the tea. "I could drink that whole cup."

Taking the hint, she offered it to his lips. Mikoto made no move forward, though, only staring at the cup for some moments longer as though frozen.

She wondered what was going through his head before he accepted the drink. She followed his pace, and he would have downed it in greedy gulps had she not stayed her hand.

He let out a satisfied sigh as she finally moved away.

"Bring a bamboo straw next time," Mikoto said. "It's an annoyance for us both, otherwise."

"I hadn't realised you were so hungry," she replied softly, ignoring his retort. "Do you want me to bring you more?"

She had only asked for modest portions, worrying about the strain on Mikoto's stomach given his infrequent meals. She had not realised quite how infrequent they had been.

"No," he said, contemplative. He fixed his eyes to the floor, not looking at her. "I hadn't eaten in a very long time. I had thought I had outgrown such mortal needs... Only now do I realise how empty I've been."

Her instinct was that he was not only talking about the meal.

"I understand. I think there was a time when I was like that, too," she said. She searched for the right words. "After my brother left, I was convinced independence would be a simple pursuit. I had not realised how much I missed companionship until it found me again."

He scoffed. "You are not what I expected, Crown Princess of Khaenri'ah."

"In what way?"

"I suppose I thought you would be far less diplomatic. More ruthless."

"When I want to be," she agreed. "I have seen and learned enough to know that suppressing empathy is unproductive. Emotion is a virtue."

His back straightened at that.

"Emotion is a virtue," Mikoto echoed, his voice suddenly dripping with derision. He slumped forward, refusing to look at her. "What a ridiculous thing to believe."

"I'll convince you of it one day, Your Highness," she smiled. Her hands went to the plate of lavender melon slices, and she speared one on a silver fork before lifting it before his face in a swift motion. "Dessert will help you fee-"

It happened so quickly. The prince jerked suddenly as soon as the implement came into his vision; the chains rattled harshly above his head as his body flinched back as far as his restraints would allow.

His head snapped to face her, his indigo eyes blown wide.

Lumine saw it again: that fear. That expression too close to a cornered, wounded creature who had not escaped unscathed before.

"You," he snarled as she froze. "Don't-"

"Who hurt you?" she demanded.

Because the prince had reacted like he had expected to be struck.

He was silent. She thought of his deathly hatred for Yae, the way he abhorred being subject to another's control, the threat he assumed of her Anemo barrier.

Those loose, white robes he wore with long, fluted sleeves, hiding his body from view.

Had they hurt him?

Her body moved before her mind realised what she was doing; she reached forward towards his sleeve. His palms; the soles of his feet; his back; his torso and stomach. Those were all the most vulnerable places. He couldn't escape like this. If they beat or whipped him, he would have nowhere to run-

"Get away from me!" he snarled, moving as though to bite her hand. "How dare you try to lay your filthy hands on me."

"Prince Mikoto-" she began, her eyes wide. "How can they treat you like-"

"Leave," he rasped, his eyes blazing with fury. He was glaring at her the way he looked at Yae; with pure, condensed hatred. It pinned her in place.

"I will not," she said stubbornly.

He laughed, a hearty, awful sound that seemed to pull all the air from his lungs. "All you want is to use me," he said bitterly. "You think some leaves and fruit would make me forget? Your pathetic attempts at manipulation are futile. I'll never be another doll in your harem. I won't be controlled."

"I have no intention of doing so."

"Your words mean nothing to me."

"Is it so hard to believe I want to help you?" she demanded, impatient. Everything she had felt over the past few days, everything that she had tried to bury within her, suddenly began to pour out, and she saw no reason to reign in her composure. With the weight of the deadline against her, she spoke as freely as she desired.

"I never wanted this. I never created that spell to control you, and mere days ago, I did not know you existed! Tell me, then, what motive I would have to use you. I do not need your power; I channel divinity myself. Yet your own country locks you up, oppresses your power, and steals your Vision! Is the gamble you take with me really so unappealing? How much worse can your scenario really become?"

"Of course it can get worse," he said, his tone as frigid as the winter winds of Snezhnaya. "I would rather die in here than be used by anyone again."

"Then tell me," she said. "Tell me, Prince Mikoto. How can I possibly win your trust?"

He rolled his shoulders. Eyed his chains.

"Set me free."

She couldn't. In her heart, she knew she could not; not with the supposed threat he posed to Inazuma, the tenuous peace between Celestia and the Seven Nations. She could doom the people of the Electro Archon's domain and her own Kingdom in one single act of thoughtlessness.

"I promise to leave. I'll never return to Inazuma again," he muttered.

Lumine smiled dryly at the sheer hypocrisy. She, too, lacked any reason to trust him, if he was the criminal they would have her believe.

"Where will you go?" she asked.

"I don't know," he said, and his mind seemed to wander somewhere far away. "...Wherever's home."

Lumine could not. There was not even a shred of doubt in her mind that she could not consider it. Her sincere desire to help Mikoto could only extend so far; there was no guarantee escape would break the hold Yae held over him, anyway.

Regardless, as she eyed those ominous chains, the spark of a challenge invigorated something within her. What would it take for her to sever what was no doubt the creation of the Electro Archon? Only the Shogun could seal Mikoto's divinity in such a manner.

She would merely analyse the restraints, she decided. The Prince's wide eyes tracked her as she stood, outstretched her palm to the chain, and brushed it with her fingertips.

Crackling, searing pain flashed white-hot through her veins, and she gasped as it speared her body like cold steel. Her body writhed involuntarily as she watched the black tendrils of smoke assault her arm, clinging to her skin like stains. The sudden agony forced her to her knees, and she blinked from where she had fallen just in time to watch the Prince's lips calling her name before she passed out.

Beside her unconscious body, the forgotten plate of lavender melon began to rot.

Chapter 4

Chapter Text

Scaramouche - Mikoto - had never intended this: another casualty of his miserable misfortune lay unmoving on the floor, and he had never hated his bindings more as he struggled against them in a futile attempt to reach her.

"You idiot," he muttered, but he knew well precisely who was at fault for the Crown Princess of Khaenri'ah's condition.

He should never have suggested it; it had been a ridiculous test to attempt to glean some slither of control over his own life again, but he had never intended to escape in the first place. He was quite literally unable to.

The Guuji was a monster he regarded as nothing more than a demonic yokai who lived to protect her own interests: meting out a personal grudge against him was nothing more than another amusem*nt to pass the time. He could hardly hace a lower opinion of the kitsune.

Yet it was precisely that amoral, self-serving nature that had forged her a position at his creator's side.

Mikoto found little comfort in the fact his creator had abandoned the governance of her own country as much as she had him. Beelzebul's latest act of incompetent lunacy was to delegate significant shares of her own divinity to Yae and the puppet Shogun he was the prototype of. When Yae had harnessed Beelzebub's knowledge of his creation with her trickery to force him completely beneath her command, he had been enraged with disgust, but not surprised. He was never surprised anymore.

How he detested it, even more than all the Doctor had done.

Yae had been comprehensive. One of her first orders - the only command which was actively siphoning her divine energy - was that he should make no attempt to escape or bring harm to Inazuma. His mind ached with agony when he so much as contemplated such things. Stepping foot outside Tenshukaku would undoubtedly render him immobile.

He could not escape; attempts to destroy his shackles only harmed him.

Now, they had hurt the Crown Princess, too.

He had only intended to test her mettle; he had not fathomed she would be so foolish as to risk her safety and waste her nation's political currency for someone she had barely spoken to. If she was sane, she would not have any fondness for him, either.

She had done this to herself.

It was easier to think that.

Then hours passed, and she did not rouse, and nobody came for her.

He despised the fact that he worried almost more than his lapse in judgment.

Then the iron doors flung open. Yae Miko's expression cycled through shock, fury, and resentment. Mikoto only smirked at her distress.

"Notify Kujou Sara," she told a guard. "The Crown Princess has been found."

He stared at her with a defiant glare.

"What," she hissed, bearing her canine teeth, "have you done?" She rushed to where the blonde lay unmoving, her slender fingers brushing over her pulse-points before pulling her into her lap to examine her.

Something in his core resiled at the sight of another person unconscious in the yokai's arms. It made him sick, and flames of anger sparked in him once more.

Yae's lilac eyes snapped to his restraints, no doubt searching to ensure his vision was far out of reach.

"If this was your doing, Prince-" she spat.

"Ha! Doubting your own magic, are you? How pathetic," he snarled. His eyes caught the bright illumination of Electro energy at Yae's fingertips, and he loathed the way his body froze up in fear.

Once again, he was fighting the worthless emotions within him as he forced himself to remain calm. The yokai was clearly attempting to cleanse Lumine of whatever ailment the chains had inflicted, even though true healing was beyond the scope of her abilities.

"A diplomatic incident with Khaenri'ah... Is that what you planned all along, you conniving little doll?" Her voice was calm, but it was filled with contempt. Mikoto could have hissed at her at the label.

"The girl's blood is on your hands. The consequence of your incompetent failures to control your adopted divinity."

"That's quite rich of you to say," she said, her voice low and dangerous. "After you lost the Electro gnosis, hmm?"

He had no desire to justify his actions to her. He huffed, turning away in disinterest, but her words had confirmed a likely suspicion: that Yae could only fund the mental hold she had on him using the divinity bestowed by the Electro gnosis.

The gnosis he had stolen and had thieved from his heart as a spoil of battle: no longer could it be a battery to her machinations.

What was Yae using? The residue? If it were the only option, it would drain itself eventually; she could not hold him forever. Perhaps that was why they had chained, him, too, other than the obvious inconvenience of maintaining that mental prison when his will so violently thrashed against it.

He grinned.

"Your powers won't last forever, witch," he said. "And I have had ample time to plan the way I will force you to watch as I slaughter the only thing you love before sending you to join her."

Yae turned to him with a haughty, distasteful expression.

"You have been a thorn in our side since the moment you were born. Had I known what a nuisance you would be, you would never have seen the Shakkei Pavillion. Consider yourself fortunate: if Ei did not prefer you alive, I would have separated those puppet limbs from your body like tearing off a spider's legs before killing you."

She scooped the Khaenri'ahn Princess into her arms, stepping towards him with a menacingly casual demeanour.

"I will kill you, if my hold over you breaks and you become a threat. Otherwise, I will take great pleasure in the knowledge you are an enslaved subject of the immortal Khaenri'ahn heir. Do you not understand? Either outcome is perfect for me. But Inazuma cannot afford to quibble with Celestia. For your insolence, and to avoid another incident..."

Mikoto felt the powers that bound him begin to seize, and his eyes widened as he realised the implications of her words. Her lavender eyes began to glow like an Archon's, and he felt his wrists pulling at his chains like a madman.

"Stop. Stop! You witch, you monster, don't you dare-" he gasped.

"You will be obedient," Yae commanded, and he felt that awful, sickening fog settle over his mind. "From now forth, Prince Mikoto, you will dance for me like the perfect little puppet you are."

-

"Repeat after me," sang a gentle, feminine voice. "Three, two, one... One, two, three."

Lumine blinked awake to the face of the Guuji smiling down at her.

"Lady Yae," she gasped, suddenly sitting up. Her hand immediately went to feel for where her weapon would be, had she been at home. In its absence, she drank in her surroundings: a bright, luxuriously furnished bedroom of the palace, and her body reclined on a comfortable, continental-style bed. The surroundings were not her own chambers, though undoubtedly something similar.

"What happened?" she asked, instinctively touching a hand to her head. Any phantoms of pain had left her body, and she glanced around in confusion.

"A little accident in the Prince's ward," Yae explained, and the memories flooded back. "Once more, I must apologise for his behaviour."

She shook her head. "The fault was my own. Please do not blame him for my carelessness," she said easily. The room was illuminated in a golden hue, and Lumine glanced outside to see the sun was setting. Had she truly been unconscious for nearly a full day?

Yae regarded her with a knowing stare. "As you say, Your Highness," she replied. "How do you feel? The Shogun had extended an invitation for dinner to hear your answer, though naturally your well-being is the utmost priority. If it is too soon..."

The news was a shock. Lumine kept her face passive as she mulled it over. She had expected the Shogun to evade her for the whole of her visit; the sudden shift to her itinerary was unusual. Why now?

Still, she required answers, and a brief incident was far from serious enough to hinder her. "I am feeling well-rested, thanks to your help. It would be an honour," she said. "I am grateful to the Shogun for her offer. May I return to my rooms to prepare?"

Yae hummed. "Yes, and I shall send light refreshments to your chambers. Do call if you feel at all unwell, Princess."

Lumine departed swiftly under the guise of pleasantries, even if the true reason was to escape Yae's sinister presence a little sooner. Instead of walking to her chambers, she made a beeline to Prince Mikoto's rooms.

Today was the last day. The Electro Archon would have her answer, and she would not accept the prince's hand unless it was what he wanted. She wondered how it would make her feel to leave without him.

He captured her attention, from his elusive past to his straightforward personality, his sharp tongue only furthering the understanding that he was someone who cared little for her position. Beyond that, he was like her: the scion of a god. She had only ever known Aether to share that trait, and her brother was gone now. Selfishly, she wanted to know Mikoto, too. She could sense the pulse of his heavenly power even under his thick restraints, and she had no doubts of his capabilities. She wished to offer him a better life, an escape from his misery in Inazuma.

It was the least she could do.

The alternative, too, was unappealing: Lumine rather thought Khaenri'ah possessed enough underhand schemers for her to adore the idea of Kamisato Ayato amongst her harem. Frankly, she much preferred him as an ally: she had an inkling he would be a high-maintenance troublemaker in the palace. Kamisato Ayaka would never forgive her for stealing her brother away, either, even if she would spend the rest of her life without consciously realising, and Lumine liked the girl.

None of that meant she would trample upon Prince Mikoto's will, though. If he had no interest in joining her harem despite his duress, then it would be nothing short of abhorrent to force it upon him.

She shoved the iron doors open, expecting a verbal spar. Instead, the sight that greeted her made her heart plummet.

Only plain tatami lay before her.

The cushion she had retrieved for him was nowhere to be found; only a recess from the weight of his knees evidenced he had been there at all. The long, iron chains that hung from the top of the high ceiling lay limply on the floor, the darkness that had once smoked from them forgotten.

She nudged them with the edge of her boot. They were utterly ordinary cast-iron links, no different to those one would find at an ordinary forgesmith.

Prince Mikoto was gone.

-

Lumine cleared her throat delicately as she stood outside the Shogun's dining room. Her golden silk kimono was embroidered with Liyue's famous glaze lilies, the blue and silver hues a clear homage to the colours of Khaenri'ah. The fact the Shogun had sent her a tailored gift of Inazuma's national dress was not merely a gesture of goodwill; it was a reminder that Lumine was in the Electro Archon's domain.

Tonight was a meeting of nations. Her every step mattered.

Yae stood beside her, her constant presence akin to supervision for all the woman's smiles. She was dressed in formal ceremonial robes for the occasion, exuding that casual air of one who knew her position in Tenshukaku would never be challenged.

Lumine could not place her finger on it, but there was something off about her presence. A hint of tiredness, perhaps a slight irritation that rippled the surface of her composure.

Whatever happened, she found she would not miss the Inazuman court.

She wondered what had happened to Prince Mikoto, where he was now. Perhaps she had broken the hold the chains had over him after all; it was in his interests to leave her unconscious body somewhere inconspicuous, lest his room be searched sooner before he fled. It was a far-fetched theory. She resigned herself to the fact that she might never know the truth.

The ladies-in-waiting readied themselves, and before she knew it, she was being ushered forward.

"Announcing Her Royal Highness, the Crown Princess and heir presumptive of the Kingdom of Khaenri'ah, esteemed guest of the Shogunate and all of Inazuma; Lumine of Khaenri'ah!" Kujou Sara called.

The room was not what she had expected; instead of grand and imposing, it was small, intimate. Glowing lanterns provided a pleasant light around the single, low table in the centre of the room that was a spacious fit for four. Wooden wall fixtures and paper screens painted with sakura trees in the wind created a homely atmosphere in stark contrast to the ominous air of the throne room.

"You look well, Your Highness," the Raiden Shogun said inflectionlessly from where she was already seated at the head of the dining table. She gestured to the place opposite her own. "Please, have a seat."

The Shogun was dressed in her usual attire; a short lilac kimono, her hair pulled back to a loose, waist-length braid. It was a sharp contrast from the formal attire of her guests, and Lumine recognised the power play as easily as she breathed.

"I thank you for your generosity, Shogun."

"Not at all. I trust you have had a pleasant stay in Inazuma?"

"I could not have asked for a more enjoyable time," she lied. "Inazuma is a beautiful land, from its regal scenery and architecture to its dedicated, principled citizens. I have been most impressed."

Then, she realised Lady Yae was taking a seat to her left.

Why was the table set for four?

"Good," the Shogun said shortly. Tea was served, and she took a long sip. Lumine nursed her own cup, observing. It was the Shogun's playing field, and she was a patient woman. Silence stretched out. Yae looked as calm as ever, and there was not a hint of emotion upon the Electro Archon's visage.

The Shogun's head turned slowly to the side. "You may enter."

Lumine had not noticed the sliding door hidden behind one of the paper screens. She watched intently as a grand silhouette cast a moving shadow upon it. Before long, a short figure emerged.

He was dressed in layers upon layers of fine fabrics, to the point his body was completely obscured. Yet she could not rip her eyes away from his face.

Prince Mikoto gazed towards the table, his eyes never meeting hers - and he was smiling.

The first thing he did was bow.

"I greet the Shogun and the Guuji, and our honoured guest, the Crown Princess," he recited, his voice worlds apart from the rasping, scathing tones it usually fell within. Instead, when he spoke, he was energetic in a way that she could only describe as youthful, imbued with a hopeful enthusiasm that danced on his tongue.

If she were still a child, her mouth might have fallen open for all her confusion. What on earth was going on?

The first thing her mind jumped to was that everything prior had been an elaborate and eccentric test of her character by the Prince, yet it did not escape her that he had been asked to enter unannounced. Prince Mikoto was far from beloved and well-treated in his own court.

She ran her eyes over his robes. They ranked amongst the most luxurious garments she had laid her eyes upon in years; his robes fell in layers of amethyst and deep plum silks, bordered with flashes of darkened gold. Unmistakably, he wore the colours of Inazuma. A hairclip with delicate fresh flowers pulled his fringe away from his face.

He looked beautiful. Decadence suited him in a way that only highlighted how his new cheerful demeanour did not.

Worse, Lumine recognised the garments, and their full implications were not lost on her. They were women's robes. Mere days ago, Ayaka had proudly recalled the junihitoe her mother wore for her own wedding that she would one day inherit whilst they shopped for kimonos. The court dress style was unmistakable; she understood it to be worn only for the most formal occasions.

Like marrying him off, her mind supplied, and she pushed the ridiculous thought away.

Had it been his choice? Lumine could not imagine it. Did they force him to wear it to humiliate him? It seemed more likely.She would have thought he would detest to be dressed in his national colours.

Her mind raced, but her tongue was blank.

The Prince approached with elegant steps, making moving beneath the heavy layers seem effortless. That unsettling smile was still plastered upon his face.

Clearly she was hallucinating. The Prince Mikoto she knew would never have went without with insulting or berating her for so long.

In fact, the Prince Mikoto she knew would not even be in the room with the Shogun and the Guuji without trying to kill them. He sat mere inches from her right, yet with one look upon his polite expression she felt further from the Prince than ever before.

"You are acquainted with the prince, Princess Lumine?" the Shogun queried.

She was starting to doubt he was even the same person.

"I have," she said hesitantly. "I must confess, I did not expect to see you here tonight, Prince Mikoto. You... seem high spirits this evening." A silent question.

He blinked at her, as though processing the information despite how he had always been quick to bite back. Then, his polite smile only widened, revealing perfectly straight teeth.

"Yes, I must apologise for my prior behaviour," he said demurely. "I was not in my right mind, but there is no excuse for failing to extend to you the highest of hospitalities, Your Highness." He spoke the pleasantries like he was reading from a script. Ironically, the energised intonation felt artificial from his lips. "I pray you will offer me the chance to prove myself to you."

She stared at him. "Not at all."

The first course was served. Lumine glanced at the Shogun, who was perfectly calm, and then to Yae, who was uncharacteristically quiet and uninterested in the man opposite her - she wondered if it was solely to do with the Shogun's presence. Neither seemed at all on edge about the sudden change in his behaviour, as though his fury had been a concerted act all along.

She had felt his rage too keenly for it to be anything but genuine.

"It is my hope the two of you will be well-acquainted by the end of the meal," the Archon said. "I trust you have not forgotten the offer for Prince Mikoto's hand as one of your consorts?"

Suddenly, it clicked. It was a last resort to convince her to accept the offer; that explained Mikoto's garments, the oddly inviting atmosphere. She wanted to laugh.

As if she was the one they had needed to convince.

"Not at all. It would be a pleasure to have him, provided, of course, you are amenable, Prince Mikoto," Lumine said, addressing him directly and not bothering to hide the way worry knitted her eyebrows.

Had he been threatened? But then, why was he not silently communicating his discomfort through his body language? Everything about him had become flawlessly polite. He was perfect, too perfect; she hated it.

There was only a moment's silence before he said, "It would be the highest of honours, Princess."

Suddenly, Lumine wanted to throw something. Her frustrations boiled over within her. She detested the way his emotions seemed drained from his personhood; the agreeable, mild-mannered man before her was not the one she had become so fond of.

His answer was like whiplash that ran through her system like electricity. She could not hide the shock from her face. When she met his eyes; he was not looking at her. Despite the tilt of his head being angled towards her face, his eyes were fixed to the woman who sat opposite him: Yae Miko.

Suddenly, everything clicked into place. It was so blindingly obvious she should have known from the moment he stepped into the room.

He was being controlled. Nothing he was doing or saying was of his own will.

A shudder slid down her spine. When she imagined the scope of the contract's abilities, she had foolishly assumed it was limited to clear, short-term orders, like Yae commanding him to sleep and wake. That was why he had been otherwise restrained, or so she had thought. That was why she had assumed he could be so openly hostile and aggressive, for they could not do worse.

She had not realised it could be like this, such a wholesale upheaval of everything he was as a person. His whole personality, erased. Everything that had drawn her to him like a moth to light had been waved away at the yokai's word, reduced to nothing more than what they thought she wanted him to be.

She tasted acid at the back of her throat.

"I must ask you, Shogun," she said, her voice as cold and harsh as the winds at the apex of Dragonspine. "What is the meaning of this?"

Chapter 5

Chapter Text

Despite the steel of her tone, Prince Mikoto did not so much as lift a brow. Instead, he acted as though he had not heard her at all, looking absent-mindedly at the plate of sashimi in front of him as he ate.

She let herself scowl, her displeasure clearer than water.

"What, precisely," the Shogun said, her voice as monotonous as ever, "would you be referring to, Princess? Is the meal not to your liking?"

"That is not what I am referring to. I possess ample divinity myself. I recognise that Prince Mikoto is currently subjected to its power."

All the while, the prince moved his chopsticks to his lips in smooth, steady movements to his mouth as effortlessly as though they were discussing the weather.

"It is for your own safety, Crown Princess," Yae interrupted. "I trust you have not forgotten your recent accident by his hand?"

Lumine opened her mouth, yet to her distaste, it was the perfect counter. She could not refute actions framed for her safety; to suggest removing the Guuji's thrall would insult her host's judgment in endeavouring to safeguard her. It would not be reasonable to request, not when she herself had glimpsed flavours of the prince's power, or at least not yet.

She pursed her lips. "I appreciate your concern, but I only wish that I could speak with the prince candidly. After all, am I not considering his suitability as a courtesan?"

"Ask away," the Shogun said. "You will find he is most co-operative in this state. I shall supervise."

She frowned. There was no reasoning with them. From their perspective, her objections were a non-issue: Prince Mikoto was intended to be controlled at all times, first in their hands, then in her own. It was immaterial that she would acquaint herself with him in this state, because they imagined she would ensure he was entranced forever. The fact he was entranced for the dinner was trivial.

It was twistedly logical, and she hated how quickly she understood their intentions.

Yet the Shogun's words flickered mischief through her mind.

Words could be a fearsome blade, and she had sharpened hers like any other skill. Yae's control was fallible; what she had witnessed during her arrival had demonstrated that.

The solution was simple: break Yae's mental hold.

She locked eyes with the prince, eyeing the room for inspiration. The fresh selection of sliced fish was delightful, with a texture that melted on her tongue, but it was sweet - a flavour that he scorned. If she could stoke the flames of his anger, perhaps that would be enough.

"The quality of the meal is exceptional tonight. I worry Khaenri'ah cannot compete... Are you often treated to these luxuries, Your Highness?"

The meaning was obvious between them; they both knew how rarely he had eaten. However, Mikoto's posture remained the image of perfection, graceful and relaxed. Lumine wondered if he had presence of mind at all; it would be a far kinder thing if he did not.

He smiled calmly. "We are very fortunate the chefs of Tenshukaku are so skilled, but of course we reserve only the highest of delicacies for an honoured visitor such as yourself, Princess."

We, not I. Mikoto had tiptoed around the fact he had been left to starve. Could he lie?

"I am very grateful. It isn't often I am able to experience the marvels of Inazuma... Your robes tonight amongst them." She smiled sweetly. "The national colours suit you so well. Did you select your attire personally?"

He paused, longer than he had ever paused before. Yet when he spoke, he demonstrated no indication of the way he so vitriolically abhorred his country.

"I did not," he said, his own smile equally false. "However, it pleases me that you enjoy them. It is a pleasure to represent my nation. The prospect of doing so as a courtesan of Khaenri'ah would be so great an honour, I am almost overwhelmed."

Another non-reaction.Did he hate hearing those words from his own lips? She had to imagine so.What if she was wrong? Was she doing the right thing, or was she her strategy merely forcing him just as Yae and the Shogun had? Was he being made to suffer because of her?

Determined regardless, she pushed a little more, disguising sharp questions as polite conversation. Yet the patience of the ladies only endured so much triviality; soon, they were addressing her directly. The second course was served, then the third, then the fourth.

-

"You must be a powerful adversary, Princess," the Shogun said, her tone still flat even as the conversation moved. "To wield the elements without a vision."

"I have yet to master them," Lumine replied. She turned to Mikoto. "Where is your vision tonight, Your Highness?"

However, the Shogun spoke first. "Mikoto was bestowed an Anemo vision in the design of Sumeru. It stands alongside his natural durability and skills as an Archon's scion."

"Sumeru?" Lumine echoed, surprised. The country had very recently undergone a complete political upheaval now that their Archon had awoken; the Lesser Lord was one of the few she had never met.

Curiosity burned inside her, but she knew better than to ask, not when Mikoto was psychically bound to answer her every question.

"You need not worry another nation has stolen his heart, Princess. Although he visited the land, Mikoto has no real connections there," Yae added teasingly.

"I see."

The sound of shattering turned her head.

Mikoto sat with his arm extended as shards decorated the tatami. The ceramic cup he had once sipped from had been flung to the far side of the room. It lay in the floor in tiny, fragmented pieces.

Lumine felt warmth wash through her.

His expression went very suddenly blank, his posture rigid. He blinked for too long. After a loaded pause, he spoke.

"My apologies," he said with that plastic smile. "Pray forgive my mistake."

He was with them after all.

-

It seemed not even Yae had clever words to offer in the ensuing silence. Lumine, however, had seen enough.

"Raiden Shogun. May I be blunt?"

"As you please."

"I cannot understand your treatment of Prince Mikoto. After decades of his absence, you lock him away, you restrict his powers, and you suppress his mind. Is that any way to treat your own scion? Yet, despite diminishing his pride and value, you offer him to Khaenri'ah, the seat of the heavens on earth." He was being treated as worthless and priceless at the same time. "I cannot reconcile these contradictions. I ask for an explanation."

With the pair of them so close, the resemblance was striking; their flawless, porcelain skin that was so perfectly radiant in the warm light. Their lustrous, obsidian hair streaked with the colours of lightning. The dignity and stillness with which they carried themselves.

Even with their similarities, the Shogun treated the Prince like dirt.

"Seven ideals for seven gods, and of these, Eternity is nearest unto heaven," the Shogun intoned with a finality that sent a shiver down Lumine's spine. "All of my actions thus far have been in furtherance of my divine principle as an Archon. It seems you do not understand the blank cheque I am writing you...

"Prince Mikoto's rage is an enemy of eternity. His treatment stems from that fact. However, the Guuji's divinity is pitiful compared to your endless potential. With your talents, the Prince can be anything you desire in this world: the perfect courtesan, retainer, servant, soldier. He is yours to command; malleable only in your palm. Do you understand now? One Archon's dross is a Princess' treasure."

Lumine felt sick. He truly was nothing more than an annoyance in their eyes, a wreckage beyond saving; they did not care what happened to him, as long as he did not upset the fragile peace of a nation in pursuit of complete stagnation - a reality his fury would inevitably unleash. She might enslave him, kill him, doanything with him, and that was no less than what they anticipated.

They did not see him as worthy of the slightest respect, and Prince Mikoto smiled pleasantly as his Archon so plainly said so.

"If I am to believe you, then why hand over such a powerful asset, if you are so certain his hand is that worthy?" she frowned. The Electro Gnosis had the boundless strength of all the others. "As an Archon, your divinity is immense. You must be able to command him."

The Shogun hummed.

"Two reasons. Whilst my own divine power could contain him... Suffice to say it is not the best use of my time. The second is that Prince Mikoto serves as an act of loyalty. It is my hope that it will encourage Celestia's non-interference with my nation, such that I may pursue eternity." The Shogun met Lumine's eyes with her piercing lavender gaze. "You would not object to one upholding the heavenly principles, Crown Princess of Khaenri'ah?"

Celestia's non-interference.

She wanted to laugh at the sheer arrogance.

"I regret to inform you you have miscalculated, Shogun. Khaenri'ah is a strong nation, filled with capable and immensely powerful individuals; the Twilight Sword is but one I could name. Your confidence that the Prince and all of his abilities at my disposal are so desirable to me lacks foundation. Second... Even if they were, nothing affecting me has any such sway over Celestia's will." The face of her mother - of the Unknown God, apathetic and stern, flashed through her mind.

"On the first point," the Shogun said. "I believe with the right puppeteer, the Prince is capable of filling the void left by your brother, the previous Crown Prince."

Aether.

Lumine saw red.

"How dare you," she seethed. "You forget yourself, Archon."

"I apologise, Crown Princess," she said immediately, and Lumine felt only the barest trace of satisfaction at the fact she seemed genuinely at a loss. "I did not mean to offend."

That was the problem, wasn't it? That same, inflectionless tone. Lumine wondered if she saw any immortality in her actions, from the way the citizens of Inazuma had suffered from her policy of isolationism and stagnation, to the torture of Mikoto at the dinner table.

"Then release the Prince. I will speak to him candidly," she demanded. Her initial flare of rage had been genuine, but now, it was calculated. Under the veil of heated emotions, she would not lose the opportunity to press the advantage. "I will take responsibility. There is no issue with an Archon present, is there?"

"I suppose not," Yae said shortly, apparently having decided the situation was beyond her meddling. After looking to the Shogun for approval, she closed her eyes and muttered something under her breath.

Mikoto slumped forward with an agonised groan of pain, grunting with exertion as though he was deep in the throes of a nightmare. He gasped for air, and suddenly, his expression was filled with such pure, distilled hatred that Lumine could not help but feel a sigh of relief.

"Your Highness. Are you lucid?" she asked, her voice suddenly gentle like the first sakura petals of spring.

"Silence your ridiculous questions," he muttered under his breath, though the broken, fatigued way his voice frayed at its edges indicated he was far from well.

He looked pained, wounded, too exhausted even to retain the lines of scorn on his face. She waited until he seemed to have his bearings, but as he recovered, a portion of that empty quality returned to his eyes. A blankness, like that of a soldier after watching a friend fall in battle.

"I must hear your answer this time, Prince Mikoto," she said softly, touching her fingertips to the back of his hand where it rested on the table. He did not react. "Will you return to Khaenri'ah with me, Your Highness?"

When the words finally registered, he moved as quickly as lightning. He grabbed her wrist with a grip so tight, she could barely move her fingers; his other hand went for the collar of her kimono, forcing her torso down to meet him.

The Shogun stood to intervene, but Lumine stopped her with a glance. When the Prince finally looked at her, it was with a vulnerability she had never expected to see.

"Bring me with you," he demanded, yet any attempts at intimidation were removed by the shreds of desperation breaking his voice. "You said you would," he hissed. "You promised."

Lumine knew as a fact she had not. She so rarely committed herself to anything as precious as a promise.

"You understand you will join the court as my courtesan, Your Highness?"

"Take me from here," he repeated with a growl. "Or else I'll- I'll-"

"Then I promise I shall," she reassured, not daring to touch him in this state. When he finally released her, Lumine straightened her robes.

"The contract spell," Lumine said, turning to the Shogun. "It is a condition of the Prince's hand?"

The Shogun nodded. "It is non-negotiable."

"Then, Raiden Shogun, as the Crown Princess of Khaenri'ah, I am honoured to formally accept Prince Mikoto as a courtesan of the Royal Harem. If Prince Mikoto is amenable, may we transfer ownership of the contract to myself immediately?"

"Go ahead," he muttered.

"That should be simple enough," Yae said, a note of relief in her voice. "A happy ending for all. Who would have expected such a thing in this day and age?"

Lumine felt her heart hammering against her ribcage with her unease.

Yet as soon as the ritual was complete, the sooner it would all be over.

-

The Prince moved like he was injured, but he swatted away her hands with a snarl when she tried to help him stand. She was limited in what she could do until they were alone; the best she could do was hover. Yae instructed them to extend their palms to each other, and it was with a resigned look of exhaustion he obeyed.

"With the Shogun's assistance, the process should run smoothly. However, I cannot guarantee it will be painless; you need not worry, though, Princess. The subject shall bear the brunt of the burden," Yae said.

"Of course he will," she said dryly. "Prince Mikoto, perhaps we should wait until you are-"

"No," he snapped with the force of lethality. "Begin."

She did not have the heart to contradict him.

The ceremony began. Lumine followed the Prince's lead and closed her eyes. Energy began to swim around them, the words of the Guuji's chants drawing out a stream of divinity between their bodies.

She heard his cries of agony before she felt it.

Everything fell out beneath her, and suddenly she was plummeting. An all-encompassing searing through her mind, and before her flashed scenes she had never seen before; memories that were not her own. Flames pluming pitch-black clouds in the distance. A darkened laboratory in the frozen landscape of Schneznaya. Sunlight as it illuminated the back of a young girl with pale white hair. Voices, overlapping voices, began to speak all at once.

"How could I bestow such a task on one who sheds tears..."

"From this day forth, your name shall be..."

"This is the Shakkei Pavillion... Don't you remember anything?"

"Such betrayal..."

"Ah, what a delightfully perfect specimen..."

"Your newest mission..."

"Don't struggle!"

"...an all-knowing God..."

"...erase yourself..."

"Always remember, no matter what the past and future may hold, you are the First Sage of-"

She opened her mouth but she could not speak, and everything went black.

Chapter 6

Chapter Text

The scenes flickered beneath Lumine's eyelids before she awoke, dazed and disoriented, in an unfamiliar room.

Her hand flew to her temple as she slowly began to soak in reality, peeling it away from the visions she had felt as vividly as though she had lived them.

That spell. She was the master of the contract the Prince was beholden to, yet somehow she felt the same as she ever had. What had it done to her mind?

"Abyss," she muttered under her breath.

She glanced around the empty room, decorated by hanging scrolls and painted screens and vases of fresh flowers. She threw open the nearest window to the sight of broad, beaming daylight. Then, she rounded one of the screens segmenting the room, and her eyes fell on a still silhouette.

"Prince Mikoto?" she blinked, though he was unconscious. She knelt beside him, gently touching his shoulder. His chest rose and fell gently, but he did not stir as he slept.

Something dark unfurled within her: that irrational, impulsive voice in the back of her head that wondered what would happen if she ordered him to wake. She threw it aside as quickly as she could, upset by her own curious instincts.

She would let him rest.

-

As much as Lumine wished to leave swiftly, she craved the knowledge she so sorely lacked.

Mikoto was her responsibility now; she held the ribbon that tied their souls together, and she would fail them both if she did not even know its substance. Only one person could give her the answers she needed.

The sunlight beamed down as intensely as its warmth. Lumine found the Guuji bathing in its view, lounging upon a wooden pathway raised above a scenic rock garden, her bare legs hanging freely over one side.

"Welcome, Princess. I see you're still here," she said, her voice friendly despite her words.

"How could I leave? Prince Mikoto is still asleep," she said, joining her where she sat. It was a picturesque scene, but she still felt restless.

"Well, he's not quite sleeping... He will not wake for some time."

"What do you mean?" Lumine said, suddenly concerned. "Was the ritual not a success?"

"Oh, it was," Yae drawled. "You now have complete control over his mental and physical faculties. However, naturally, both of your stamina was drained; his more than yours. It may be a week or so before he opens those eyes of his. Perhaps longer."

She sounded so very unbothered. As much as it angered her, Lumine supposed it did not matter to her anymore.Had she ever cared about the scion of her Archon?

"I thank you for your help, Guuji Yae," she said, taking a seat next to her. Yae was free to bear her fangs, but she didn't have the luxury of lifting the veil of niceties. "Without your assistance, Prince Mikoto's hand would never have been within my reach. I promise to treat him well in Khaenri'ah."

"That's more than he deserves," she said candidly. "You do know he is dangerous, don't you? Far from the innocent little flower you might think..." She trailed off, looking away. "Hm. I suppose that's none of my business now."

She couldn't refute it. Somewhere in her, Lumine knew there was a part of him that was rotten.

The ocean of anger he harboured like a possession he would guard to his dying breath could never be the mark of a virtuous person. The prince's own words had confessed as such: that he was a terrorist, a murderer.

Regardless, she did not regret her decisions. She could not explain the faith she had in him, as if that sharpness he so blithely hurled at others was incapable of cutting her. She had gambled upon with confidence, because she trusted the truth of how he had been treated more than the story they had fed her; he had gambled upon her after his hand was forced by necessity.

Only the future would reveal it to be a mistake.

"I did wish to speak to you about the contract."

"Mm? What of it?"

"I suppose how I exercise it, its limits, its drawbacks and side-effects... Anything I should know. I would hate for there to be any incidents."

Yae smiled. "I am afraid I developed it myself with some assistance from the Shogun, and therefore it is somewhat of a prototype, so I have no encyclopaedia to present you with. Place force into your commands, and they will work; commands that restrain his will more fervently drain more power. You can make him do anything, but impossible commands and altering his memories are beyond its scope." Lumine felt a flash of anger that they had ever tried such a thing. "I experienced no side-effects, and I doubt you will either with your abilities."

She paused. "Can it ever be broken?"

Yae met her eyes with a discerning stare, and Lumine reminded herself to breathe.

"No. It is soul-binding, and I have not devised a method to dispell it. However, should you wish to transfer the contract to another, do return to Inazuma."

It could be a lie, Lumine thought immediately. Yae could be hiding the truth from her.

The notion of a spell of Yae Miko's design permanently inscribed upon her mind was a vulnerability she loathed, even if she knew there was not a being in Teyvat who would dare to risk harm the Khaenri'ahn heirs. She wanted the words not to be true. Then again, a part of her didn't trust herself not to break the contract with Mikoto if she could. Celestia knew she barely trusted him at all, yet.

The reality of what she had done was starting to sink in.

"Thank you for your advice, Lady Yae."

"Yes, well," Yae smiled. "Don't let him cause too much trouble."

Lumine could not help but wonder if Yae's knowledge of the Prince's past justified her hostility, or if she would always see the very worst in him.

"If I may ask," she asked, unable to help herself. "Why do you dislike him so?"

For once, Yae seemed to consider her words before she spoke.

The breeze ruffled her petal-pink hair, and for the first time, she saw the embers of genuine emotion in the priestesses expression.

"Because of nothing more than his own emotional shortcomings, that boy has caused Inazuma and all of Teyvat no shortage of grief. Do understand that he has only himself to blame for his misfortune..."

She leaned in a little closer, as though she was telling her a secret.

"I hope you make good use of him."

-

On the outskirts of Inazuma, Lumine observed the ocean from the cliffside, the unconscious prince cradled in her arms.

Observers who knew no better always praised the Princess for packing modestly wherever they went; if only they knew everything she could ever need was housed neatly in the compact enormity of her teapot realm.

Yet, as convenient and as brilliant as she had always believed it to be, she had quickly lamented the inconvenient fact of life that was the dimension's inflexible rules: all first-time visitors had to actually be conscious. If only the Prince were there, he could rest more comfortably.

She had not minded carrying her new courtesan from the steps of Tenshukaku; she would carry him all the way to Khaenri'ah on her back if she had to. However, there were easier options.

A dark shadow loomed over her, and Lumine smiled.

"Hello," Lumine smiled at the Ruin Grader, whose mechanical body whirred as it paused. "Have you come to escort me?"

The Ruin Grader's light flashed before it emitted a series of beeps she could only define as friendly. Slowly, it lowered itself to one knee, offering its arm so that she might hop onto its shoulder as she tended to do with the mechanical wonders of her nation. Instead, she held out her arms, showing the prince as he slept.

"It's not just me today, I'm afraid. Could you please carry him too?"

The Ruin Grader inclined its head in affirmation. Carefully, she laid Mikoto in its outstretched hand, wrapping her coat carefully around his body like a protective blanket.

He looked so very small like this.

"Gentle," she commanded. "You have to be very gentle with him. See? He's fragile. Very precious!" she tried to explain.

Truthfully, she was not worried. Machines though they were, she had always believed that Khaenri'ah's creations eclipsed the sum of their parts; she considered them more lifelike and intelligent than most seemed to give them credit. The Ruin Grader seemed to understand, imitating the way she had held Mikoto to her chest as she climbed up its arm to sit on its shoulder.

"Home," she said. It had been an exhausting few days, and her other courtesans would be arriving soon. Perhaps the journey would be her only opportunity to rest; Mikoto had the right idea to sleep through it.

"Finally, let's go home."

-

The pristine white spires of Khaenri'ah's Royal Palace shone like a beacon in the underground realm that housed her nation, and the shine of its warmth felt like the sun. Dainsleif stood dutifully at its steps, and she knew immediately that he had been waiting for her, however much she insisted against ceremony.

"Your Royal Highness," he bowed. "Welcome back. I am glad to see you safe and well, Princess Lumine."

She wanted to roll her eyes at the formality they had long since grown past, but she smiled nonetheless at the sight of him.

"It was only a short retreat to Inazuma, Dain! I hope you didn't worry too much," Lumine said as she hopped off the Ruin Grader's shoulder. He had become increasingly overprotective since her brother had left, and the fact he was forbidden from leaving the city only agitated him further, fearing the worst would occur without the watch of his discerning eye. She hid her thoughts as she stretched her arms over her head. "How have you been?"

"Well, Princess. Though palace life has been much quieter without you," he said. He glanced at the mechanical creature and cleared his throat, analytically staring at Mikoto's pale, curled form. "Who exactly...?"

"Allow me to introduce you to the first member of the imperial harem to arrive in the country, or so I assume," she said. "Prince Mikoto of Inazuma. Please treat him well."

"I was not aware such an individual existed," Dainsleif said with a critical frown, one that informed her he would be running an extremely comprehensive background check the moment he had the chance.

"As expected, the Shogun's invitation was a little more than a reunion of rulers... I will explain later, but the circ*mstances are something of a special case. He won't wake for now."

"Is that so?" he mused.

Lumine trusted the knight with every fibre of her being, but the man somehow almost managed to dissipate five hundred years of goodwill when he slung Mikoto over his shoulder.

"He's not a sack of potatoes, Dain!" she exclaimed, a little harshly. "Give him to me!"

Dainsleif relented easily and quickly. Mikoto was slipped into her arms as though he had never left, and she suddenly felt sheepish at her overprotectiveness.

She reminded herself that no harm could come to him, here.

"Where's Noelle?" she asked politely.

"On her way. I see you like him," Dainsleif remarked. His tone wasn't judgmental, merely curious.

As the Captain of the Royal Guard, Dainsleif had not liked her mother's order that she take a harem any more than she had; in fact, of her closest circle, he had responded the most poorly to the news.

To him, the requirement of vision-bearing was only another latent threat, a risk to the well-being of herself and others if they ever became hostile. Every member of her harem would be nothing less than yet another danger to the sole remaining heir of the Kingdom.

While Lumine was not as cynical, she had equally intended to maintain her distance from a group she felt certain desired their positions as little as she did. She had not been able to work out what was worse: if they were forced into their situation for the sake of their country, or if they were eager to become close to her because of the status she held. Neither were ideal.

She supposed, from his perspective, her change of heart was odd.

"From the little I've seen, yes," she confirmed. "Although I think he might struggle to settle in more than the others. Isn't it good that I'm not miserable about it?"

"Of course. Forgive me, Princess; it is simply that your standards are notoriously high," he deadpanned, and Lumine sent him a withering stare.

A flash of silver hair rounded the corner.

"Noelle!" she exclaimed, genuinely happy to see her aide. She had missed the reliable comfort of her presence.

"Welcome home, Princess," she curtseyed, before looking at her with bright eyes. "Oh, it is so wonderful to see you safe and sound! Shall I prepare you a bath? Perhaps a refreshing mint cooler after your long journey?"

Were her arms not full, Lumine would have pulled her dear friend into a hug.

"Thank you, but I am quite alright. Actually, I fear I have something to ask of you already," she said with an apologetic smile. Understanding dawned on the maid-knight's expression as she saw the man in her arms, and Lumine briefly explained the situation. "It's my hope he is as comfortable as he can be here. May I entrust his care to you, Noelle?"

"Are you certain that's wise, Princess Lumine?" Dainsleif chimed in.

He rarely questioned her orders, and she frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"Forgive me, it's only that it could be viewed as quite the political statement, assigning your personal aide to care for a consort upon his arrival."

"You think it would invite theories of favouritism," she realised. "Well, it shouldn't be an issue. After all, it's only temporary given Prince Mikoto's exceptional circ*mstances, and the other candidates have yet to arrive."

"Actually, my lady..." Noelle began.

"Please don't tell me." Lumine said flatly.

Noelle, dutiful as ever, stopped her sentence as it started.

Dainsleif, however, had fewer qualms about speaking out of turn.

His voice was carefully neutral as he said, "You have a special visitor, Your Highness. From Liyue."

Lumine wondered if she would ever have a moment's peace.

-

At the top of one of the tallest spires of the palace, towering doors opened to reveal a well-dressed man admiring the view from the windows.

When the pale light of the palace hit his face, it seemed almost ghostly.

"I greet the Crown Princess of Khaenri'ah," he said with a formal bow. The dark strands of his ponytail fell past his shoulder with the movement, breaking the illusion of pristine perfection that cloaked him. "I am Zhongli, General Consultant of Wangsheng Funeral Parlour. It is truly an honour for you to take the time to meet but a humble worker, such as myself."

There was a mischief to his smile as the doors clicked shut, and his golden eyes glowed in their shadow.

"To what do I owe the pleasure," Lumine said, crossing the room to seat herself at the negotiations table. She folded her hands together. "Morax?"

Chapter 7

Chapter Text

Zhongli paused, soaking in the silence as he glanced over her body. After living for so many centuries, the Geo Archon held a seemingly endless patience. Tired as she was, Lumine would not disrespect him by pushing the conversation.

"I cannot deny the title," he said eventually. It was her first time seeing him in this form, and she was glad he would not treat her as a fool. "I imagine you have heard of recent events in Liyue."

Word of his faking his death had reached her ears; she regretted that she had not been there to witness it. Her last visit to Liyue was years ago now; whilst she was on friendly terms with the Qixing, it was more complicated to have such a relationship with the Archons. Even Aether, charisma and capability incarnate, was very careful about with whom he was close to.

"Your secret is safe with me," she confirmed. "May I ask what I can do for you?"

The man hesitated.

"In times past," he began, as though he were imparting his wisdom through a lecture. "Khaenri'ah's imperial harems built cultural ties between the surface and the underground, further establishing the nation's prestige and influence." His amber eyes met hers. "It would not be appropriate for me to question the motives of reintroducing such a tradition."

He did not need to. The answer was evident: control.

It was a clear enough message. As much as she might respect Morax, they were uneasy allies, only bound to cooperate insofar as their interests aligned.

"However, I have always found that the atmosphere and contentment of the harem was set by the individual at its heart. Crown Princess Lumine, I would hope that you do not shy away from the responsibilities of ruling it, for the ambitions of vision-bearers are not so easy to constantly manage. From what I have seen and heard, though, you do not seem to be that manner of person."

"You speak as though you are personally invested," she commented. It was strange, for an Archon. A sadness began to fill her as she realised that Morax had already demonstrated far more interest than the Shogun had when she entered her own scion into its ranks. "I appreciate your advice. I do not underestimate the sacrifice and loyalty involved in joining it. To allow any toxicity to fester would be a discourtesy to that fact."

His expression grew thoughtful, contemplative. For such a dangerous man, he had truly mellowed since Lumine had seen him last. He appeared to be softened, more at peace in his retirement.

"Yes," his voice rumbled. "Quite."

"Has something happened in Liyue?"

"As always, the question rests upon its definition," he smiled. "It depends what you mean by 'happened'. Nothing has 'happened' in the immediate sense, rather... Times are changing. It is my view that the age of gods is drawing to a close, with humanity to rise in its place. As I exit the stage, I wish to tie together the loose ends I have left, so to speak."

She gave the barest hint of a nod. Celestia did not interfere with how, if at all, the Archons chose to manage their territories; Mondstadt was a clear example.

"And you have come to me," she said, a silent question.

"You have met the last remaining Yaksha, have you not?"

Lumine should not have been surprised that Morax knew; the loyalty of adepti was a terrifying force. Likely, her every interaction with them had been reported to him in detail. She cast her mind back to when she had first met the spear-wielder, bloodied and exhausted and pained.

Xiao was the kind of person who left memories that always felt fresh, no matter how much time had passed.

She had been far younger back then, ignorant of the world around her as she explored the continent she had so rarely seen before. When she had been cornered by karmic beasts in Liyue, swarming to her divinity like rabid dogs, Xiao had slayed the hoard like it was just another weekday chore.

Then, he had scolded her with an abrasiveness that largely concealed the fact that he cared. She had known at once he had a good heart.

He had no reason to assist her as soon as he learned who she was, yet he had still occasionally appeared during her travels in the land of Geo to lend her brief but significant aid before vanishing into the night.

Vera told her the almond tofu portions she had anonymously funded were begrudgingly accepted. It was the least he could do, as he bore the festering sins of the divine on his back, enduring his centuries of torment.

"He is a noble warrior. I think of his anguish often," she said, trying to keep the implicit judgment from her voice. After all, was Rex Lapis not the holder of the contract that endorsed his pain?

A vision-bearer of Anemo, abused for the benefit of their gods. Was that why she had reacted so strongly when she had seen Mikoto's plight?

The more she considered it, the more similar their situations seemed.

"The Conqueror of Demons... He was once under the control of a wicked god, forced to mete out atrocities by his orders. The abuse he received during that formative period impressed itself upon his mind. To him, I have always feared our contract is but another chain. Even now, with his centuries of faithful service, I cannot help but feel... He cannot separate my position and status from my relationship with him. He can never view us as equals."

The thought that Xiao might never have known peace filled her with sadness.

"Why are you confiding this in me?" she said, though she already feared the answer.

"I wish I could say that Rex Lapis is gone, and with him, all contracts he may have penned. However, that is not an answer that the Conqueror of Demons would accept. To change our terms is a separate story. In other words, Princess, your Imperial Harem may be just the opportunity through which I might finally free him from his duties."

Lumine felt scepticism rise within her. It had never been her place to interfere with an Archon's affairs, but she had always been cynical of the way Zhongli failed to remedy the misunderstandings between himself and Xiao. Was he so averse to communication that he could not repair his relationship with the young Yaksha over two thousand years? They so blatantly cared for one another, yet somehow, Zhongli seemed to think it would be a terrible idea to show it.

The fact that handing him over to Khaenri'ah under the veil of a contractual change of terms, rather than ending the contract entirely, was his apparent solutions spoke volumes.

She wondered if any of the Archons were sane.

But she didn't hate the idea.

"I am not opposed. I would welcome him with open arms, and a life here underground is distinct enough from the warfare in Liyue's plains that I hope it might allow him reprieve. However, what of the remaining karma in Liyue?"

Zhongli hummed. "Perhaps the husk of the Exuvia might soak up all of the karma in the lands as it erodes, finally, to dust."

In other words, he would take over. That would stave off disaster, at least.

"I understand," she said. "However, I have already accepted a representative candidate from Liyue. To add an adeptus, though an honour, would be one more personality to manage... So, are you willing to barter, Morax?"

It was a golden opportunity, one she couldn't pass by.

"But of course," he said smoothly, though his gaze was sharp. "Should this old and ordinary man have anything worthwhile to offer."

Lumine wasn't so arrogant as to contradict that. Though Zhongli's gentlemanly demeanour was a pleasant facade, it was a facade nonetheless. However, there was nobody better to ask about her new condition.

"A contract has been inscribed upon my soul," she explained. "It is a rather unique affliction. However, I wish to break it, a mutual sentiment with my contractee. As the God of Contracts, could you help me?"

The man's eyes went wide in an almost comical way; seeing such an emotive look almost made her laugh, and she wondered if he had not become used to his new form, and had not yet a handle on his expressions.

"How fascinating," he murmured. "I am sure I can try. I shall prepare to observe your soul, however, it will take some time. Perhaps it is best that we complete such tasks after I introduce Xiao-"

Suddenly, a flash of shadowed movement crossed her vision, sending a breeze through the room. Darkness that burned teal at its edges like ethereal embers flickered into nothingness, and a shorter figure stood at Zhongli's side.

"You called, Rex La- uh, Zhongli?" Xiao said, standing before them with his spear in hand. She smelled iron and saw dirt on his skin.

He glanced at her, his expression perplexed, and he adjusted his grip on his spear in agitation.

"I'll let you explain, Morax."

"Of course," Zhongli said. "Xiao... I should like to change the terms of your duties to me with one, final task." His explanation of the facts was clear in a way that was clinical, and Lumine tried not to stare too much at the Yaksha's perpetual frown. She could not tell what he was thinking as his golden eyes met hers.

"Xiao may continue to perform his current tasks if he prefers them, correct?" Lumine chimed in. "I hope it's clear you have a choice, Xiao. I would not wish for you to be pressured or unwilling."

With lifespans as long as theirs, it was important to her that he knew.

"Yes," Zhongli agreed. "That is right."

The Yaksha let out a breath.

"I'll do it," Xiao said unflinchingly. "I will." He pursed his lips and turned to Lumine. "The courtesans have rooms, correct? I- I'll take my leave to arrange my wares." He stepped towards her, then froze. "If... That's alright with you, Your Highness."

He spoke the words like they were another language; he was so used to serving only one master as he worked alone, after all.

"Of course," she nodded. She pulled a coin from her pocket, infusing it with her divine energy, before placing it in Xiao's gloved hand. "Here. If you are lost, ask anyone to direct you to Noelle and show her this."

"Then, I'll go and set myself up."

The door clicked shut.

Lumine had the distinct impression that it could have gone better.

"I worry that boy will forever see me only as his tyrant," Zhongli confessed in the silence.

"Have you voiced your concerns to him directly?" she asked. "Forgive me. It is not my place to meddle. I simply think... I am certain he would understand how you feel, if you explain it all to him quite plainly. Though emotions do not come easily to us all."

"Quite," he said, but his eyes were distant.

"Stay a while in the palace; I insist," Lumine said, rising to leave. "You're an honoured guest, and I shall find you this afternoon for our session. In the meantime, I think Xiao would be very reassured by any words you have to offer him."

-

"Your Highness Lumine,

Although I am never one to enjoy enmeshing private and political matters, word of your recent decree has reached our ears. In the Qixing's search for the most exemplary candidates to propose for the illustrious Imperial Harem of Khaenri'ah, Beidou and I would like to suggest a rather unorthodox individual in our personal capacity. Whilst not hailing from Liyue in blood..."

"Dear Princess,

While I insisted the boy write to you himself, he and Ningguang much prefer the formalities of a traditional courtship, letters of introduction galore. Can't say the prim and proper way is all my style, but I love them both to bits all the same. I'm sure you'll love him, and the Crew'll miss him ten times a minute..."

Lumine re-familiarised herself with the contents of the letters upon her desk, the first neatly-penned, the other weathered from transport across the open seas. Kaedehara Kazuha's profile had raised deep suspicions from Dainsleif; the gaps in his history, his exile, doubt he may not be descended from the Clan from which he claimed to be at all.

Knowing he had rebelled against the Vision Hunt Decree before he had been forced to flee, though, now seemed a point in his favour after her meeting with the Shogun. Though Celestia had forced Inazuma to cease that particular policy, Lumine felt an almost petty allyship in anyone who opposed her.

"You won't veto him, will you?" she teased Dainsleif, who was carrying velvet-lined boxes into the room. "It's the last invitation to be sent."

"I have no such authority, Princess," he sighed, placing what he held upon the desk. "Here. The hairpins you commissioned are finished."

Lumine glanced down at the matching set of golden ornaments, specifically suited for the way Ningguang and Beidou liked to style their hair. Subtly, they would remind themselves of each other during their long distances apart, for Beidou could be pried from the open oceans no more than Ningguang could be separated from her illustrious Jade Chamber.

They shared indomitable spirits, but aside from that, Lumine thought fondly that they could not be further apart in personality. It was funny, then, that Kazuha had earned both of their adorations. They spoke of him like he was their adopted son.

"These are beautiful; thank you. Please have these sent with my acceptance letter." Then, at Dainsleif's sceptical frown, "What? We may have three Anemo vision-bearers, but frankly, we need a stable pillar amongst some of the more eccentric men."

She gestured to the pile of accepted profiles, and not even Dainsleif could do more than begrudgingly accept.

A twinge of guilt pulled at her. He was only worried for her. She wondered what he would say, if he knew what she had done in Inazuma.

-

The consorts' quarters lined the edges of a beautiful court in the East Wing of the palace, where a luscious garden had been constructed beneath the open sky. In theory, the fountain at its centre and the open spaces adorned with marble benches and corners to relax formed the perfect atmosphere for socialising and recreation amongst the harem.

In theory, it was idyllic.

Lumine knew it would be disastrous.

They would all be sleeping no further than a minute's walk from each other, the perfect breeding ground for jealousy. There was no way for her to visit any of them, without all of the others knowing. They could all be watching each other like hawks.

She could only pray they were not so inclined.

Prince Mikoto had been temporarily assigned to the first room on the left, one that overlooked the vast city below. Noelle had tucked him beneath the soft cotton sheets of the empress-sized bed, and Lumine found herself keeping vigil by his side.

His chest rose and fell, his breaths shallow and gentle.

"Those memories," she murmured. "Are they yours?"

He couldn't reply.

Resting beside him made her feel oddly calm, though, safe in the knowledge that he was alright. If she decided to close her eyes and rest a little longer, then nobody needed to know.

-

Across Teyvat, vision-bearers received their letters to mixed emotions.

Staring at the invitation of his roommate, an acting Grand Sage felt utterly empty.

"Kaveh, you're being irrational."

"No, Alhaitham, I'm not."

The two stared at each other, their gazes equally firm. They bickered constantly, never leaving even the pettiest of squabbles unfought.

Today, though, was different. They both knew it as an awful sense of finality hung in the air.

"Then why are you doing this? You're as vain a man as I've ever known. You can't actively want to throw yourself to the wolves and live the rest of your life in a cave, dedicating it to some object of divinity you've never met."

He tossed the letter to the table and stubbornly folded his arms, a wall unwilling to accept the news thrust upon him. Kaveh threw his arms up in frustration; Alhaitham would never understand.

"As you so kindly remind me, I'm living on the knife's edge of you kicking me out at any moment's notice," he said, unable to keep the bitterness from creeping into his voice. "I have a mountain of debt to pay off; you're the one who keeps telling me how my situation is desperate. I'm sure the pockets of the Khaenri'ahn heir run deep enough."

"You know that I'm barely serious," the man said, bristling a little. "I've housed you for this long, haven't I? What reason would I have to throw you out after enduring your personality for this long. Even if I did, you have enough friends and admirers to pick up the pieces."

"No, but it's nice to know I'm wanted, isn't it?" he snapped. "If I'm such a burden to you, surely it's rational to leave."

He spat the word rational, the ideal Alhaitham loved so dearly, out like it was poison.

And that was the point, wasn't it?

Kaveh cared for Alhaitham, maybe he could even admit he loved him, but Alhaitham could never treat him with the respect and sensitivity he craved. He would be abrasive, aloof, and never show that he cared despite what his actions demonstrated. For Kaveh, actions just weren't enough, not when he had to search for them beneath disparaging remarks and scornful, apathetic glances.

They were simply incompatible opposites.

And Kaveh had had enough.

The constant arguments, the sensation he was always being looked down upon, the way Alhaitham swung violently from considerate gestures to outright rudeness. It wasn't worth it.

He would settle for an apology. Abyss, he would even settle for Alhaitham just recognising that what he felt could be understood.

He knew it wouldn't happen.

"Listen," Alhaitham sighed. "If you're that worried, I can put a lease agreement in writing. There's no need to be radical about this. Surely an architect as infamous as yourself can pay your debts without selling yourself to another nation."

"Do you really think that changes things?"

Alhaitham hesitated, and for a stupid, briefest of moments, Kaveh almost dared to hope.

"I can give you a small loan. Will that suffice for now?"

His stomach plummeted.

"I don't think you're hearing me," he said, his voice resigned. He couldn't bring himself to look at his roommate. "I don't know if I want to stay. Besides," he said, raising his voice. "The letter is final. Our Archon has agreed. I leave tomorrow; there's nothing more to say."

"What? Kaveh-"

"Who else does Sumeru have to offer, after our government's been all but overturned? What other viable vision-bearers of reputable standing, skill, and prestige exist to choose from? The General Mahamatra? You? You may think me a bumbling idiot, but like it or not, I'm our best hope at winning the Princess' favour. Or would you hope for Sumeru to send no candidate, and invite Celestia's wrath upon our fragile state of affairs? There. Is that sufficiently logical? Rational enough for you?"

"So that's why Lesser Lord Kusanali agreed to hide this matter from me," Alhaitham deduced, his voice suddenly bitter. "Didn't you ever stop to think about how I would feel?"

"How you would feel?" he repeated incredulously.

He was met with no reply.

"I'm leaving in the morning," Kaveh said, furious.

He turned on his heel and left, slamming the door behind him. The breeze was fresh and cooling against his skin. Only when he was some paces away did he realise he had no desire to return to that house.

Then, he realised he had nowhere to sleep that night.

-

"Master Diluc... Are you certain of your decision? Once you make this choice, you must know that there is no return," Jean said.

Diluc twitched, uncomfortable as he stood before the senior Knights of Favonius whohad remained in Mondstadt. Stepping into their headquarters was unpleasantly suffering whenever he did it, but given the affair before them held national importance, he had been forced to acquiesce.

"There is nobody else, is there?" he said. While a man of age of the Knights could be appropriate, Varka had taken many of the most capable men with him, and Kaeya and Albedo had ties to Khaenri'ah that would complicate sending them. The ranks of the aristocracy had dwindled, and House Gunnhildr and House Lawrence boasted only female heirs. "I don't desire your pity, Acting Grandmaster. I am willing to go."

"I know you are making a sacrifice for the good of Mondstadt, and it is appreciated more than I can express," Jean said, resigned. "Captain Eula and I can accompany you to the palace. Noelle has written to invite us enough times; it would be no trouble at all."

"I happen to be acquainted with the Princess and royal Khaenri'ahn etiquette," Eula said, her cool expression betraying nothing of what she thought of either. "Should it be welcome, I am willing to advise as best I can on the journey."

"Thank you, but that won't be necessary," Diluc sighed. "I've made my own preparations already."

"As you wish," Eula replied.

"I really am sorry, Diluc... This isn't what any of us wished for," Jean insisted. "If anything happens, please contact us immediately. You will always have a place here, and we will do all we can to protect you."

"Of course," he said with a dip of his head. His gaze flicked to Kaeya, who had been silent the entire time, not even able to offer the same empty words of support. It almost made him look forward to his new life as he muttered the monotone words, "I am most grateful."

-

Zhongli removed a glove from his hand, revealing skin the shade of dragon-scales and golden veins flowing with Geo. He outstretched his palm.

"Would you allow me the honour, Princess?" he asked delicately.

Lumine placed her hand in his without hesitation. "Please do what you must for your appraisal."

Zhongli closed his eyes, and the space around them began to glow with his elemental power. She felt a pleasant warmth against her palm, but nothing more. For a few minutes, he stayed silent, as though he was meditating. Then, the electricity that had seemed to energise the air around them dissipated, and he opened his eyes once more.

"It appears, indeed, that a contract binds the soul of yourself and another. Crafted from divinity, it is a powerful thing to behold."

That, she already knew. Her eyes narrowed; starting with fluff rather than substance was never a good sign.

"Can it be broken?"

Zhongli took a breath. "I am very sorry, Your Highness. The threads have been woven by another of the Seven. Although I am the God of Contracts, there are limits even to that jurisdiction. As this is not my work, I cannot infringe upon another Archon's domain; the answers you seek can be divulged only by her."

Lumine hadn't dared to hope for more, but the words made her feel strangely empty.

She had intended to seek out Morax from the beginning, and she had wondered if the purpose of his visit was to elucidate on what was done to her when she had first laid eyes upon him.

Now, that lead was dead.

Who could help her now?

"I understand. Could you at least tell me this: how dangerous is it?"

The man paused, and his eyes flashed gold in the shadows. He glanced away when he had so steadfastly met her gaze before, almost like a flicker of guilt.

He knew, then. He knew what it was.

"I would urge you to keep your wits about you, Princess," he said gravely. "As a member myself, I can safely say this: when it comes to the Seven, nothing is ever as it seems."

Chapter 8

Chapter Text

Scaramouche blinked open his eyes to the blissful sound of silence.

How long had it been, since the world around him was at peace?

First, it had been the constant commotion of humans, a hustle and fussing that had been so foreign until suddenly it was dangerously comforting in its familiarity; those quiet days had been replaced by the incessant, awful whirring of the machines and ominous vials and vats that populated the Doctor's lab; then, it had been the swirling, all-consuming energy of the Abyss that had relentlessly roared in his ears when it was not as silent as death.

Most recently, it had been the clattering of chains. They mocked his every movement as he woke.

The noise might be absent now, but he knew better than to think it would not soon be replaced.

Uneasiness spread through his mechanical body, manifesting in an uncomfortable stiffness, and he had pushed himself upright before he even registered someone had laid him flat.

White sheets tumbled from his chest with a muffled thud.

The room was utterly empty.

Pale white light fell upon the edge of his bed.

Weary eyes scanned the room. His fingertips traced the edges of the golden star embroidered upon the royal-blue throw laid atop the duvet, heavy enough to pin him to the mattress. The eight-pointed emblem left no doubt as to where he was.

Khaenri'ah.

He scoffed. How fitting a wretch like him would end up in the land of sinners.

There was no mistaking the style of the royal palace, even if he had never laid eyes upon it himself; tall arches carved from flawless, snow-white stone decorated everything he could see, from the supportive beams of the ceilings to the tops of the thin, paneless windows revealing a midnight-blue sky.

Time felt like it had frozen, as though the underground realm were a separate world entirely. The air was still, but the quiet was not weighed with a sense of dread or eeriness; it was the stillness of a cosy, overcrowded attic where a distant relative might have left their equipment to paint, a stillness that carried with it a nostalgic promise of hope in times past.

Not that he would have any idea what that was like.

There was something about the silence that cast the domain in an illusory quality, like a realm of dreams. It made him think of Sumeru, of that pestering god whose company he had so detested being ripped from.

What a hypocrite he was. He had once prided himself on his ability to endure everything, the wires, the agony, yet he could not withstand this simple separation. Even now, before he knew what he was doing, he clutched at his chest for a vision that wasn't there.

It had been stolen from him, taken away by the ones who wished to use him as a means to an end, and perhaps he wasn't what she had thought he was, because he so furiously and desperately wanted it back, he would do anything, anything to snatch it from the enemies who had taken it from him.

Something thrummed.

He turned his gaze to what might have been the only thing that had ever truly been his own.

An Anemo sigil rested beside him.

Lying on the bedside table, his vision had been left cushioned in a velvet-lined box. His instincts screamed it was a trick, a cruel reminder of the freedom he could never have. Even in Inazuma, they had offered the small mercy of keeping it from his sight.

Could they be that cruel?

When he reached out his fingertips, he grasped his vision's cool surface in the palm of his hand. He summoned a breeze like it could breathe life into him, before staring at it in disbelief.

That princess had never taken it from him to begin with.

He clutched his vision to his chest, holding back a choked breath. Even his sordid, blackened heart could not chastise himself for the sheer flood of relief that surged in him as he felt its elemental power pulsing through him. To be separated from his greatest treasure had been enough to drive him mad. With it, perhaps he would finally no longer be alone.

Perhaps he could finally be at peace.

-

Any sentiment of hope was darkly sobered as he pulled his pathetic self together.

He was a fool to forget the reality his situation. His fingertips traced his forearms, free as they were from from wires, tubes, and chains. What imprisoned him now ran far deeper than any physical abuse could manage.

He was free of Inazuma, and for what?

He had meant his words. He would never be the princess' slave, a pet to be called to and fro at her whims, a toy to be used at her leisure.

He slowly exhaled as he summoned a powerful orb of Anemo in his palm, its teal shade condensing into pitch darkness.

He smiled.

The princess had returned his vision to him, and he knew in his heart she would live to regret it.

-

"One vision-bearer from every nation..." Lumine muttered with a hand to her head. "Identifying suitable candidates is far more tedious than I expected."

She was sitting at her desk in the comfort of her office, a familiar retreat that was often not as silent as she would have liked it as her retainers paced through and undertook the lofty task of preventing her from driving herself mad.

The task before her was maddening indeed. Her mother's guidelines had been minimal when it came to the appointment of her harem, leaving navigating the complex political web of international relations entirely to her. In attempting to source suitable candidates, Lumine searched for a few key traits: intelligence and resilience in measures enough to survive the Khaenri'ahn court, a workable personality to prevent her courtesans from murdering each other, enough competence with a weapon to prevent themselves from being killed, not only by other courtesans.

Then there was the requirement of suitable social standing, loathe as she was to care for such a thing.

She was evidently being too ambitious: her requirements narrowed the pool almost to nothing.

She supposed that was why Fontaine and Natlan had requested time to host selection ceremonies. Focalors had always enjoyed an excuse for a spectacle, too.

"At least one vision-bearer from each nation," Dainsleif corrected, and Lumine wanted to laugh at the implication the pickings weren't slim. "The Kaedehara scion..."

Kazuha was a strange case, attributing neither Inazuma nor Liyue as his homeland. As much as Lumine hardly needed an extra personality to balance, the calm demeanour evident from his reputation seemed a necessary nature to contrast the less considerate personalities who were beginning to fill her courtesan list.

"If only we could pretend he was from Snezhnaya," Lumine muttered.

Her guard's expression darkened.

"I take it there is still no word from the Tsaritsa?"

"None," she confirmed.

It was a weighty silence.

Snezhnaya's quiet hostility had piled like fresh snow, threatening to avalanche as soon as the force of gravity tipped the scales. Lumine had wondered if the Tsaritsa's coldness had inspired her mother's orders, a reclaiming of Celestia's control over Teyvat, but her mother's foresight and motives usually ran far deeper.

It was her duty to prepare for the worst, regardless.

"I'll increase my patrols when your... Courtesans... Arrive." He spoke the word with as much discomfort as she quietly felt. " They must be protected at all costs, or the continent will descend into war."

She wished it was an exaggeration.

"Dainsleif. I appreciate your worry, but even as the twilight sword, you are but one man. I am selecting candidates who are capable for a reason."

"With the exception of the yaksha, whom I greatly respect, I find myself doubting they would truly be prepared for what they might face within the palace."

Lumine hummed.

Fortunately, she had just the idea to ensure her harem would be ready when the time came.

She only needed to convince the man.

-

Xiao had refused to leave his room for the three days since Zhongli had vanished into the breeze as deftly as he had arrived.

Lumine had not wished to push him. He had never opened the door to her when she had knocked before his chambers, nor had the notes she had had slipped underneath his door been responded to.

Once more, she found herself outside the tall white door where his sigil was engraved into the handle.

"Xiao?" she said.

Suddenly, the adeptus was behind her in the corridor, his head bowed as he crouched upon one knee.

"You called," he rasped. "...Master."

Had he been waiting for her to speak his name?

"Come now. Call me Lumine, as you always have. You are my courtesan, not... Not a contractee."

She had had enough of contracts.

"May we speak in your room?" she asked, nursing the porcelain bowl between her hands.

"Yes... Princess. Please, follow me," he said, never making eye contact with her as he rose from the ground. His shoulders were rigid with tension, stiffening the lithe graceof a warrior with which he usually moved.

Artificial light drafted cleanly through the windows, bathing the stone arches of the room in a pale light. Barely-furnished as it was, it looked untouched; even the vase of pink tulips that decorated the table were wilted.

Her eyes flicked to the bed, pristinely made without creases in a way only Noelle's superhuman skills could achieve. She doubted Xiao had ever touched it.

"I am sorry, for appearing before you like this. I'm... Unclean."

He wasn't talking about the dirt still on his clothes.

"I do not believe you are," she said gently, taking a seat. Xiao did not follow; instead, he hovered over her as though he was the one about to serve her food. "Would you like to sit down?"

Xiao obliged.

"By virtue of my loyalty to Rex Lapis, the one I serve is now you. I shall perform my tasks faithfully. What do you ask of me?"

She frowned. "That's not at all what I wished to discuss."

It was strange. Before, Xiao had been abrasive, but he had been true to himself. Witnessing his demeanour shift to a cautious reverence unsettled her. She would go as far to describe it as a little nauseating. Even his posture had changed; the proud, steadfast gaze of a seasoned warrior had become hunched over and unthreatening as he bowed his head.

There were not strings binding him in the same way they bound Mikoto, but that invisible control was there all the same.

"I have no intentions to order you as though you are not an equal. Are we not old friends, Xiao?"

His eyes narrowed as if confused. "Then, why did you come?"

"To ask how you are. To discuss how you feel about all of this," Lumine said, gesturing vaguely. "It cannot be easy, having a centuries-old duty taken from your grasp."

He frowned, his golden eyes on anything but her.

"I may not understand what Rex Lapis is thinking, but I trust him," Xiao said eventually. His loyalty was terrifying. "I will serve in your harem as best I can. Even someone as bloodstained as I am is capable of studying new ways... I hope to be a good husband to you, Princess. I'll strive to... Learn."

She would have laughed if he didn't say it so earnestly, his dialogue stilted and uncomfortable. Instead, she shook her head. "I would never ask that of you, Xiao. Nothing has changed between us; you owe me no duties, and I would hope you will not crush yourself with obligations you believe to be there."

He let out a growl of frustration. "It is what Rex Lapis sent me to do. I would ask you to respect that."

"And what reason," Lumine said pointedly, "Would the Geo Archon have to devote one of his most valued compatriots to a Khaenri'ahn heir? You are too precious to be used as a bartering chip, General Alatus."

"Then my performance upon the Guili Plains was inadequate," he said, like he truly believed it. "The reason for my reassignment does not have bearing on my new mission-"

"Please don't talk like that," she said firmly. "I am not your mission."

The words silenced him. When Xiao spoke again, his voice was soft and meek like she had never heard it.

"I apologise, Princess. I did not mean to upset you with my words."

She sighed. The worst outcome of their meeting would be to entrench her position as an authority over him; she despised that notion, especially with Xiao's long and awful enslavement with an ancient god.

She slid the ceramic dish over to him.

"A gift, if you're hungry," she said.

His fingers hesitated atop the lid. "...May I?"

"Of course," Lumine said gently, refusing to let the sadness she felt bleed into her voice.

Gently, Xiao settled the lid on the table, revealing the cubes of fresh almond tofu beneath. Garnished with an osmanthus syrup and, less conventionally, small slices of fresh strawberries, Lumine had asked the chef to refine the recipe an unreasonable number of times to match the taste of the dish as served at Wangshu Inn.

The spoon already in the bowl sent a clear enough message, but Lumine prompted him with a gesture. Xiao picked it up immediately, and Lumine cringed at the idea he had taken it as an order. The yaksha's first bite was tentative, but then it was like a dam burst, and suddenly he was inhaling the food as if he had never eaten before, his golden eyes gleaming with fixation as he scarfed everything down.

Then, he straightened, the picture of dignity once more.

"Thank you, Princess," he said, pushing the bowl away.

"Lumine, please. Adequate?" she queried.

The question seemed to give him pause. He cared too much about his favourite dish to lie.

"A little firm," he confessed. "I... The texture of souls is slightly... Bouncier. Less resistance to the bite."

"I'll let the chef know for next time."

"Princess Lumine..."

Lumine frowned.

"I... Lumine," Xiao corrected. "If you do not believe Rex Lapis sent me here for my failures, nor for a mission... Why would he send me here without purpose?"

She sighed.

"I wish you did not need to ask such things, Xiao... He cares for you."

The warrior's eyes widened in clear surprise.

"He cares for you deeply, Xiao. I think you are like family to him, yet he carries such guilt in your presence because of how he knows you view him as the keeper of your contract. I believe he wished to set you free from the torment of your duties as a yaksha. I cannot help but think that he saw this as one of the only ways he could do that, without breaking your spirit entirely."

"I don't understand. I would have-"

Suddenly, a sharp, burning pain seared through her mind like a white-hot light. Lumine gasped, jumping to her feet and staggering backwards as she clutched a hand to her head.

"Princess Lumine?"

She tried to speak, but she could only produce a strangled noise.

"Princess? Princess!"

Her last memory was the sight of the floor hurtling towards her face.

-

Tubes. They were thick as bamboo and glowing with liquid purple as they reached behind her shoulders. The limited illumination was just enough for her to trace the outlines of shadows in the dark room, an assortment of objects and structures and silhouettes she couldn't identify in the shadows.

She blinked, and then she saw nothing but sheets of snow and ice, the raging winds batting hail into her eyes. Somehow, it didn't bother her.

Then, it was black, and all she heard was a voice.

"As the General Mahamatra, it is my duty to keep a close eye on you. You have wreaked enough havoc for our god. You..."

-

Lumine gasped awake.

"Princess!" Noelle cried, and Lumine realised she had been laid flat on her bed in her chambers.

"Where's... Where is-" she murmured, touching her temple. "What happened?"

"You fainted. Adeptus Xiao brought you to Dainsleif about fifteen minutes ago; he was quite worried. He informed us that you seemed in great pain, even though you seemed to be resting peacefully. How do you feel?"

She blinked. The edges of memories seemed to border her thoughts, but she couldn't clutch them before they faded like dreams.

"Perfectly fine. I don't know what..."

But she did. She recognised that awful sensation, that weight upon her mind itself.

Mikoto.

"I'm sorry, Noelle, I have to go. I promise I'm alright. I'll explain later!" she said, bolting from the room. She never paused as she sprinted through the empty corridors, all the way to the courtyard she had eschewed for days.

Something had sparked that link between them, she could feel it.

She burst through the door.

The room beyond was not as she had left it.

Standing in his pristine white robes was the man she had yearned to speak to more than anyone since her return from Inazuma. The pale, white light of the underground beyond fell around his obsidian hair like a halo.

He turned to her, his eyes as sharp as knives.

Awake, alert, and perfectly alive.

"Prince Mikoto," she breathed.

The Anemo sphere swirled violently in his palm.

Chapter 9

Chapter Text

The Prince was awake.

His dark eyes flashed in the turquoise light, yet even before the fierceness of his gaze, relief flowed through her like water spilled upon parched ground.

Mikoto did not seem to share the sentiment. The tension in his posture was blatant, his muscles pulled taut.

Lumine was not blind, and she rarely chose to play the fool. The swirling Anemo energy in his palm was a clear threat, a grenade he had tossed into the distance between them.

Most attacks would not harm her so easily, but the orb was deceptively powerful. A flash of her elemental sight confirmed that he had managed to condense enough Anemo into a single point that the blast would be significant if it imploded. Mikoto was an Archon's scion, after all, and she would not expect anything less than ruthless efficiency.

She would not die, but she might be harmed as the wing of the palace collapsed.

It would be inconvenient to rebuild, too.

That left her options. He was inviting a fight. She could accept the duel, or she could simply ignore the threat as though it was never there at all.

Instead, she spoke.

"I'm very glad to see you on your feet, Your Highness," she said gently, as if too strong a sound would cast him beneath a spell once more. "How are you feeling? No pain?"

At first, his expression cycled into one of incredulity. Ironically, the expression made her very happy indeed. Lumine wasn't so naive as to assume the head-splitting agony she had experienced was one-sided. Her worst fear was that he would endure the brunt of it again - thankfully, that was not the case.

He scoffed like she was stupid.

"Here I thought the Princess of Khaenri'ah was rumoured to have a shred of intelligence. It was a mistake to reunite me with my vision," he sneered instead, before his expression shifted into a predatory smirk.

The orb of elemental energy fluctuated wildly in his palm, throwing gusts throughout the room.

For a moment, Lumine just blinked.

"Why would I wish to keep you apart?"

They were not on Inazuman soil anymore. He had to know that.

His eyes narrowed. "You really don't know anything, do you?"

"We had precious little time to speak in Tenshukaku," she agreed.

He growled at her. The tension in the room thickened; the gaze he levelled at her was one borne of pure frustration, pure hatred.

As if he hadn't begged her, desperate and despairing, to take him with her.

Was he ashamed of revealing that vulnerability, keen to defend the pride she knew he clutched so dearly? Or did he remember nothing at all, viewing her as just another one of his chains?

She couldn't help but meet his eyes. Even all the force of his fury was a soothing sight compared to the expressionlessness of his unconscious form.

The Anemo orb swirled, erratic and unstable; though powerful, it was the type of harnessing that expended far too much stamina to maintain. She wondered how he was still standing, when a mere hour ago he was catatonic.

She decided to resolve things quickly.

She held up her hands, showing the empty palms of surrender to him as she stepped slowly forwards, as though she was trying not to startle a creature in the woods.

The prince stared at her with intense, obsidian eyes. Assessing. Weighing his options as carefully as feathers on a scale.

"I do not know what it is you have endured until now," she said, taking slow, careful steps. He twitched, staying otherwise deathly still. "However, I wish to reassure you..."

She stopped one pace before him, lowering her arms. He stared at her, his expression blank and still.

Very gently, she placed her left hand under his outstretched palm. With a light, careful touch, she raised it upwards until the orb threatening her was level with her heart. The force of the wind swept her bangs away from her face, dangerously close to injury if the equilibrium ruptured.

It was only through assuming such risk that she could demonstrate the ultimate sign of trust.

"You shall be valued and respected in Khaenri'ah, Prince Mikoto. Nobody will mistreat you here."

Lumine brought her free right hand down upon the Prince's with Anemo energy of her own, a cyclone that spun with equal and opposite force. His orb collapsed into a harmless gust of wind that brushed through the whole room, vanishing. Only silence was left in its wake.

She squeezed his hand reassuringly between her own before releasing her touch and stepping away.

He flicked his wrist, as though his fingertips were trailing through phantom energy. Almost as if he was considering another attack.

But nothing happened.

Mikoto refused to meet her eyes.

"What would be the point in attacking you," he hissed, his voice dripping with resentment. "I'm already your slave in every way that matters."

Her heart softened, more than it should for a stranger so lethal. He might have been testing her; he might have been intending to kill her. She wasn't naive to think she knew him well enough to tell.

"For what it's worth, I find this whole arrangement deplorable," she said. "I never wanted... This."

"I won't be your puppet."

"Naturally."

"I won't be a bride or soldier, either."

"Alright," she said easily.

"I mean it," he snapped. "I won't obey you, Princess Lumine."

"I do not need you to," she sighed, feeling her patience slip. "As Crown Princess of Khaenri'ah, I have fought for the stability my nation has. I already have my own Court, my people, from the Twilight Sword to my closest aides. I have lived for centuries building my network of trusted allies and friends. I have more than enough. So please do not fear that I require your loyalty and obedience, let alone in any absolute terms."

He only grunted, but the sound rang out with less conviction.

"Reviving the imperial harem was never something I contemplated in the first place. I am simply... Doing my duty."

His expression was stony, distant. She shifted into a gentler tone.

"Regardless. You were asleep for days," she explained. "I was worried."

He levelled a stubborn stare at her.

"Though clearly, you are more than capable of combat," Lumine said with a wry smile. "Please, allow me to fetch you something to eat. Or would you prefer to bathe? There are some wonderful natural springs in the palace we've dedicated exclusively for the consorts' use. After that, I would be happy to show you around the palace."

"I've no need for such luxuries," he glared.

"You've barely woken from a coma," she said.

"Archon's scion, remember?" he spat. "Don't patronise me."

"Mm."

Despite his bitter disposition, it was evident that the prince's anger had dissipated, at least not in the burning, distilled manner he was before.

Instead, he seemed almost subdued. The hostility now was withdrawn in its defensiveness. He was far from despondent, but troubled, to say the least. Standing in the pure, snow-white robes he had worn since he had left Inazuma, avoiding her gaze, his face angled towards the floor, he looked almost petulant.

Younger than his jaded nature would have her believe.

She had no doubt there was a storm behind those eyes of his. She wondered if she had done the right thing in coming to see her at all.

"I'm sorry for disturbing you," she said softly. "I'll ask for a tray of food to be brought to your room. You are welcome to go anywhere, do anything; any servant will assist you, or bring you to see me should you need."

She had so many questions, so much pressing upon her to ask. The mystery that shrouded him, his relationship to Inazuma, his vision from Sumeru, and all the flashes she saw when she closed her eyes.

Yet pushing him would hurt far more than it would help. Time to adjust in peace; she owed him that.

She turned on her heel. Mikoto was silent.

It was only when she reached the door that he spoke.

"How long," he said.

Confusion flickered across her face.

"...How long was I asleep?"

"A little more than one week," Lumine said. "You showed no signs of stirring."

She closed her eyes, trying to rid her mind of the memories of his body limp like a doll in her arms, and the sight of him lying supine in bed without ever once twitching or moving or flinching at all.

If not for the steady rise and fall of his chest, she may have thought him a corpse.

"Take care, Prince Mikoto," she smiled. "I hope you will join me for lunch tomorrow."

She left before he had the chance to scorn her offer.

She could only pray that he would not abuse the faith she had placed in him until then.

Chapter 10: Chapter 10: INTERLUDE - Dainsleif

Chapter Text

In the end, Dainsleif found her first.

"Crown Princess," he called softly, stepping out from the shadows.

It was a testament to how well they knew each other that Lumine only tilted her head in response, unflinching and unstartled. At times, Dainsleif seemed to move as fast as light itself. He was the one who had mentored her swordplay, the one who she had sparred with countless times; she knew better than anyone how threatening he could be.

Yet she had never once doubted that he was not a threat, never to her.

"Dainsleif," she said. "I am sorry if I worried you earlier... I am not quite sure what happened, but I hope your concerns are eased."

It was not honesty as pure as she could offer it, and Dainsleif knew that. His single uncovered eye stared down at her searchingly, a vivid blue gaze she never faltered beneath.

Concerned. Worried. Vulnerable.

The air around him was different, now, a rare and supremely revealing thing.

Lumine knew that Dainsleif was a proud man, proud enough that the fall of Khaenri'ah as an independent nation all those centuries ago had broken him in so many ways.

It was why, she thought, that he maintained such a stalwart and flawless mask until he could no longer bear its weight. Only then did he allow himself reprieve and comfort with her.

The urge overcame Lumine to wrap her arms around his torso and press her cheek to the warmth of his heartbeat.

Yet it would be cruel of her. She wondered if Dainsleif knew that, too. She stayed perfectly still.

"I am relieved to see you well, Princess," he confirmed, before stepping gracefully closer. "May I... Have a word in private?"

She smiled. "Of course."

-

The doors to Dainsleif's chambers clicked shut, and no sooner had Lumine reached for his face than his steady hands were lifting her hips upwards. He placed her gently upon the edge of his bed as she entwined her legs around his body, pulling him closer as she carded her hands through his hair.

Their lips met the way a stream gave way to the ocean, a single thread that wove into a greater tapestry of the affection they held so tenderly for one another. She kissed him passionately, as though affirming all that he was to her; he kissed her desperately, as though assuring that she was not lost to him.

Their every touch was a promise.

"Princess," he rasped, acquiescing to the way she was insistently removing his gloves.

"Lumine," she corrected, the way she had pushed for the last hundred years.

He hummed against her in lieu of a response.

"I missed you, Dain," she whispered, looping her hands around the back of his neck as she admired him. "Very much."

She did not say more, nor did she ask him if he reciprocated the sentiment.

All he replied was, "Khaenri'ah is never the same without you."

It stung, but only in the very slight, muted way of a healed-over wound she had felt a thousand times.

His fingers traced the laces at the back of her dress, deftly pulling them apart as she began to unwrap the layering of his shirts. They moved with the swiftness of skilled warriors, efficient without being rushed. She peppered kisses to the corners of his lips as he worked, moving to appreciate the definition of his jawline. She felt the silk lining of her dress drape away from her skin, exposing her body to the chill of the room.

"Dain," she prompted. "What do you need?"

"I..." he murmured. "May I relieve you of your stress, Princess?"

"Yes," she breathed, and then, he was on his knees.

It wasn't for her, not really, but it would be an utter lie to suggest she minded at all. Dainsleif made accepting the favour nothing but a comfort.

Her dress pooled at her waist as Dainsleif's shirts fell from his shoulders, revealingthe toned, muscular shoulders hidden beneath his armour of dark fabrics. He touched his palms to her thighs, guiding her legs open as he slipped her bloomers down her skin and off pointed toes.

She ran her fingers through his long, blond locks, beautifully caught in the pure light of the underground. Even so, his eyepatch seemed to absorb the light like a black hole.

He never removed it, even now. It had taken her hours of convincing across dozens of occasions for him to so much as remove the glove of his dark, corrupted hands. She wondered how much progress she had really made on that front.

Then she felt Dainsleif's tongue against sensitive skin, vanishing all thoughts from her mind.

"Aah, Dain," her breath hitched, and she felt her hips roll involuntarily. That was one thing she adored; Lumine never needed to pretend with Dainsleif. He was marvellously skilled with his mouth.

His tongue swirled at her entrance, venturing deeper as she relaxed against the cushions. Her muscles clenched, the electric sensations sending a shiver up her spine as he slowed his pace into slow, teasing licks. She felt her body melting against the pillows as she pulled him closer, entrusting herself to him completely.

Her ankles hooked around his shoulders as she moaned, waves of pleasure rolling through her body. Her mind swam in the pleasure, unable and unwilling to form a single thought.

"Dainsleif," she breathed, and it was more than enough encouragement for him to hasten his pace. Suddenly, the pads of his fingers were brushing against the folds of her entrance, gently plunging inwards with shallow, teasing thrusts.

Her hips bucked again as he teased her open with his fingers, the wetness of his tongue sparking an overwhelming bliss and heat within her. Dainsleif penetrated deeper and deeper, until the sensations tapered to an apex she could no longer prolong herself from reaching, a tide that threatened to spill over the edges of her being.

She gripped her fingers against the duvets.

"Dain, I- I-!" she gasped. He stroked his palm across her thigh reassuringly, and Lumine moaned as her whole body was embraced with release. For a moment all she felt was ecstasy, a catharsis that was incomparable. Spots of darkness danced across her vision in pleasure.

Dainsleif guided her through it, careful and patient all at once.

She felt him disappear beneath her skirts before she could stop him; in a moment, he reappeared with a warm towel he ran across her skin.

She caught his wrist.

"Come here," she murmured, and as soon as he leant downwards enough for her to capture his lips in a long kiss, she did.

Then, she caught sight of the fact he was still in his dark trousers.

"You're not even naked," she complained, ignoring the fact she wasn't really, either. She pulled him back onto the bed, and he tumbled willingly onto its surface.

She straddled his hips and peppered his neck in kisses, again.

"Princess," he chastised gently. "Aren't you tired? Please do not overexert yourself."

"I'm tired, but not that tired," she reassured him. She hated when she had been satiated, but her partner had not.

Unfortunately, the truth was that she was spent.

"You planned this," she accused, and Dainsleif only smirked.

"Was my strategy effective?" he asked, too amused for his own good.

She rolled her eyes, collapsing against his chest, and he stroked her hair comfortingly.

Her breathing evened out as she closed her eyes.

"I should have gone with you to Inazuma," he said darkly, in that tone an octave lower than he usually spoke at when he was truly at odds with himself. She glanced up at his anguished expression.

"There are limits, Dainsleif, of what even you may flagellate yourself for," she said gently. "We will talk about it. I promise. I am safe and I am well; for now, relax." He never did, always patrolling. She rested her head upon him again.

Lumine liked to consider herself an effective paperweight.

She smiled. "And don't think you will escape me as soon as I have rested."

Chapter 11

Chapter Text

At the apex of one of the tallest palace spires, Scaramouche reclined upon the sloped roof as he gazed at the city below.

He supposed he was Mikoto, now.

If he looked closely, he could make out the dots of people as they went about their daily lives. Happy. Unperturbed.

He wasn't actually sure what he was to make of his life now, but he'd never be free like they were. He was furious; he felt empty.

Destroying Inazuma sounded like fitting vengeance, an ode to a name he had once possessed, but he knew the Princess would not let him. He would never be able to get far.

The worst irony of all was that it was not the contract, but her perceptiveness, that would stop him from destroying the nation from the shadows. If only he could resent the contract as the source of his stagnant will. Even he knew the magic only went so far.

Still, since he had nothing better to do, he imagined how he would do it. He pictured the threads interweaving into a tapestry of despair, each and every piece he would move. The pillars he would have his agents assassinate, allowing the structures of the Commissions to collapse. The way he would leverage the unrest of the people. But most of all, he thought of how he would tear his creator and her fox accomplice to shreds.

What a sight it would be.

A flash of light drew him from his thoughts.

Balanced impeccably on a nearby spire stood the Yaksha.

"What do you want," he snapped. "Don't tell me that girl is too lazy to come up here herself."

Xiao eyed him, a hint of surprise surrounding his features.

"...No," he said slowly. "Sorry to disappoint."

He sounded so genuine, Mikoto's eyes nearly rolled out of his head.

"I am Xiao, fellow consort of Her Highness," he introduced. "...Your name?"

"Mikoto," he snapped impatiently. "If you're just here for introductions, stop wasting my time."

"I apologise for disturbing your peace," he said calmly. "I've come with a message."

"The last Yaksha demoted to mere messenger," Mikoto scoffed.

"I... I'm not sure I would call myself a Yaksha anymore," Xiao confessed. Mikoto's head snapped to his expression, troubled the way a single drop of water rippled upon a still surface: an evident disturbance, but far from a storm. This time, when he looked, he actually saw the man.

Perhaps he was not alone in feeling lost in Khaenri'ah.

"Perhaps 'message' was the wrong word," Xiao continued. "I have a question, an offer. Do you wish for me to teach you how to use Anemo?"

He glared. "My abilities are none of your business, and I don't appreciate that woman spreading word around," he hissed, clutching the Anemo vision he wore as a pendant around his neck like it could hide the obvious.

His instant show of scorn betrayed his true thoughts: that it was a tempting offer.

He had been granted the powers of the Freedom God for a reason. He owed it to her to learn and use them well; the Sumeran outline to the gem would never let him forget how he obtained it. Besides, wielding the Celestial powers would help make him strong enough to repel the rats from his past if they ever sought to drag him back to Schneznaya.

Learning from Adeptus Xiao would be no less than learning from the best.

Except there was more to the princess; exactly what motivated her, he did not know. He would puzzle it out eventually, but his instincts screamed that obeying her whims would be foolish. Mikoto ignored the logical voice that countered how irrational that was, what with the contract ready to suppress any semblance of his will anyway.

It wasn't something he fully understood, that she wasn't using him when he was so strategically valuable, but that was besides the point.

Naturally, there were always a dozen other reasons.

The chief one being that his cursed body was far too strong to be normal, his instincts honed far too sharp even for an Archon's creation.

He might as well have plastered an "execute me" sign to his chest.

The reality was there was something the princess could not know: that Mikoto's true, past identity was that of the sixth Harbinger. The reasoning was so very simple.

The Fatui had been trying to assassinate Lumine for decades.

As a former Harbinger, he'd known every nook and cranny of the palace from the moment he awoke.

"Aren't you embarrassed?" Mikoto sneered. "It's shocking that you let her degrade you into her puppet, jumping like a dog to teach the first insignificant vision-bearer she points towards. How far you've fallen from grace to end up here in her harem."

The Yaksha's expression flickered, and Mikoto knew he had stung. He'd never wanted to come, then; who in their right minds would volunteer?

Unfortunately, he regained his composure rapidly.

"Helping her is not degrading," Xiao said simply. "In fact, I asked to be of use. I was presented with options. I preferred aiding the training of soldiers. That you are one is clear."

He felt his body freeze.

Xiao continued anyway. "Newfound elemental powers may be dangerous in the hands of strong individuals like yourself. If uncontrolled..."

"I said no, Yaksha," he spat.

He was plenty dangerous already.

"Very well," Xiao humphed, evidently displeased by his attitude. Good: maybe Mikoto would finally be left alone. He had no intention of playing pretty with the rest of the harem. "Should you change your mind, you need only speak my name."

Mikoto rolled his eyes.

Maybe he was too old for it, but he had the sudden urge to throw rocks off the roof.

-

Two weeks passed peacefully, as peacefully as it could.

Fortunately, Mikoto had not seen the princess nor Xiao since their last interactions. He was blissfully left to his own devices, glimpsing only servants who were all too happy to leave him alone, with the exception of that knight girl - Noelle - who had the insufferable habit of smiling cheerfully as he passed and always wishing him good morning and night, consistently crestfallen when he ignored her.

It was irritating.

Trays of food were placed outside his room three times a day, utterly ignoring the fact he never touched them.

"I don't eat," he snapped once to Noelle. "Stop leaving them."

"Why, I could never leave you without the option, Prince Mikoto!" she had smiled. Noelle was nothing but polite and friendly to him, terminally so. He hated it. "Please rest assured nothing is wasted in Khaenri'ah. If you ever request anything specific, you need only tell me!"

She'd then tried to insist upon bringing him even more homely comforts, and he had quickly given up on initiating conversations again.

She hardly seemed to mind. Almost daily, she knocked on his door, asking what she could bring him, and occasionally informing him the princess wished to invite him for tea. He never replied.

After the first few days, letters were left outside his door, his name handwritten on the front and the envelope closed with Lumine's wax seal.

Mikoto had shredded them with Anemo and stepped over the heaped remains to crawl into bed.

He had been sleeping a lot, lately. Thinking of nothing important.

Everything was quiet.

It was ordinary. Nice.

He'd always longed for ordinary, hadn't he?

Noelle had been useful at one thing, though - assuring him he could venture into the city below and providing him a hefty allowance. With a guard trailing four steps behind like he had told them to, Mikoto had managed to indiscreetly gather the bare minimum of possessions he could actually call his: sets of clothing he actually liked, books to pass the time, a sewing kit to mend what broke.

A stupid, cheap little trinket lamp imported from Sumeru.

Regardless, even if he enjoyed the artificial liberty he had, he still despised his captor.

He wondered how long his peace would last.

Soon enough, the first of the month rolled around. He dreaded such days, a constant reminder of the days the Doctor forced Mikoto to his appointments.

Even he wasn't surprised when he was in a foul mood. Shutting himself in his room for days wasn't helping anymore.

But the palace was so light, so clean. The way the underground illumination caught on the glass panes felt almost clinical, almost like the Doctor's experiments.

Mikoto did not need to breathe, some perverse programming building it into his system. Except suddenly, he wasn't. An involuntary, choking sensation crept up the inside of his throat.

His head began to swim, his mind peeling away from reality, itching to be anywhere else, anywhere safe.

He dragged his body to the windowsill of a quiet alcove before he left.

-

The words he heard were warbled, like they were carried to him on the wind. He could hardly make them out as they called to him, but they were soft and gentle, so he listened.

"Prince Mikoto?" Silence. "Are you alright? It's me, Noelle." Something in him stirred. "Can you hear me?"

That damned maid, he thought bitterly, even if he regretted it as soon as he did.

"Please, Your Highness, tell me how to help."

He stopped listening, content to retreat back into the limbo he rested in.

Then, there was a hand against his shoulder.

Touching him.

Against his skin.

Pressing into his flesh.

Pinning him down, binding his limbs, gagging his mouth-

With a gasp, Mikoto grabbed the wrist and jerked it away from him, slamming it into the nearest wall with a sickening crack.

With his eyes blown wide and adrenaline rushing through him with all the force of a hurricane, he threw his fist towards his assailant with all the force he could muster.

His eyes registered that it was Noelle in front of him too late.

Wincing in pain, the girl threw her forearm up to catch the punch in what he could only understand as miraculous reflexes. When the gust of wind he'd caused cleared, Mikoto recognised the amber shimmer of a geometric shield, protecting her bones and skull from the blow.

Her vision shined upon her belt as she stared at him in pure shock.

There was something else in her expression, too.

Fear.

Mikoto reeled backwards as he took in the scene. The palace - he was just in the stupid Khaenri'ahn palace - there was never a threat at all. He was mad. He was insane.

And as Noelle cradled her wrist to her chest, in the space of a breath she had already manifested her greatsword as she shifted into a defensive stance.

"Prince Mikoto," she breathed, like a plea.

He stared at her for what felt like a lifetime as his lucidity trickled in.

Without saying a word, he fled.

Chapter 12

Chapter Text

The Doctor's laboratories were fetid with the stench of disinfectant. The bitter odour choked even his mechanical nose, stealing any satisfaction from every gasp for air as the Doctor plunged further through his body with the sharp edge of his scalpel.

Dottore had bolted him to the table with iron restraints. He rather thought it was a distasteful insult to his self-control. He remained perfectly still during each dissection; he always had. The elder Doctor had even developed a serum effective at paralysing his joints. The younger ones never used it.

It was unnecessary.

He had no need for courtesy.

"Curious," the Doctor murmured. Mikoto looked, and saw that the Harbinger was holding up his arm, pulled from the socket of his elbow. When had that happened? He hadn't even felt it. The Doctor prodded at the synthetic layer of flesh with a gloved hand. "To think the ball joints would fuse once more, even after I pulled them all out..."

His breath hitched.

"Aren't you tired of putting me back together," he drawled hoarsely.

His eyes were wide open as he watched the Doctor sever his hand from his wrist.

Dottore had promised he would unlock the power of an Archon, but week after week, all he had done was amuse himself by taking the pieces of Mikoto's body apart, stealing swatches of false flesh and carvings off his porcelain-like bones.

It was a wonder that his body never stopped functioning.

The hours passed. Dottore severed his foot, then his legs, then the blades of his shoulders, pulling his limbs from each socket with clinical accuracy until only his head and torso remained.

Mikoto never felt any of it at all.

"I tire of this," he snapped, realising how pathetic he must have looked. "You promised results, yet you have produced nothing of value."

"Silence, boy," the Doctor chirped. "You are a specimen, and specimens do not speak."

Mikoto watched him lean over a table, slicing a deep horizontal line in his limb to the bone and peeling.

"Stop," he insisted.

The Doctor rounded upon him, flashes of white-hot anger in his eyes.

"You impede my research with your protests," he rumbled. He wrapped his hand around Mikoto's throat and crushed.

The sensation of his airway crumpling like paper sent repulsion through his form. When he tried to speak, only a hoarse, strangled noise escaped.

"Even now, your skin moves so convincingly," he breathed, his voice veering on obsessive as his fingertips traced his bruised neck. "You react so perfectly; endurance truly is your greatest skill." The Doctor increased the pressure. "Yet endurance is all you have. Do you understand? It is you offering "nothing of value". You are worthless. As you are now, there is no worth to you at all; at least rock and steel may be fashioned into greater wholes, but you? You are a failed creation."

The tender flesh of his throat began to heal, and with it returned the sick, medicinal taste of the thick air.

"Say it, puppet. Show me that you are at least capable of that, worth my time to salvage. You are worthless."

"I... am... worthless," he breathed, sputtering.

The Doctor slapped him. Mikoto didn't feel it, but the force of the blow turned his head to the side. His disjointed fingers had been submerged in a vat of some sort of viscous liquid.

The Doctor struck him again. "Say it."

"I am worthless," he said, toneless.

Another blow. "Again." Another. "Again." Another. "Again."

Mikoto watched the synthetic flesh of his fingers dissolve into nothing. Only the materials of his skeleton remained.

Finally, the Doctor was satisfied.

"Baal abandoned you to the nearest scrap-heap for a reason," he mused, reaching for a syringe. "Yet, you will thank me for agreeing to the Tsarista's request to transform you into something valuable. A second lease on life, if you will."

"Thank you," he murmured automatically.

"You are lucky."

"I am... lucky."

"Good; and you will be obedient to all that I do or say. After all, doctors know best."

"Yes," he agreed.

It was the price of power, and Mikoto would do anything for it.

-

When Noelle burst open the door to her office, nursing her wrist and with tears in her eyes, Lumine had been ready to go to war.

"What happened?" she asked, leading her to the sofa immediately.

"I'm so sorry, Princess; I fear I've made a grave mistake," she babbled. "His Highness, Prince Mikoto... I upset him acutely."

"He attacked you?" Lumine asked, incredulous. Noelle had used her Vision; she would only ever resort to that in self-defence.

"No! No, please don't-" Noelle said, composing herself quickly. "I apologise. I noticed him hiding in an alcove; he wasn't responsive at all. It was my mistake to approach him. He fled as soon as he recognised me."

"Oh," she said. Mikoto's pain was so obvious, something he wore in his eyes and laced in each and every word he spoke. Her heart sank at the realisation his psychological scars ran deeper than she had known. "Is he hurt?"

"Not physically, princess," Noelle assured. "I sincerely apologise. I know how worried you've been about him; I did not mean to make things worse."

"Please, you acted with the best intentions. I doubt the Prince will have left the palace; I'll speak with him and ensure he is safe," she said gently.

Lumine had not spoken with Mikoto for days, yet every night, flashes of scenes and phantom pains haunted her.

At first, she had been troubled by the nightmares; in her more than five hundred years of life, she was not certain where to place the torment. Then, she had realised they were likely Mikoto's dreams, shared with her through their bond.

Perhaps this was the opportunity Lumine needed to help him.

-

She didn't take long to scour the palace. In the space of a few minutes, she realised there was only one place he could be.

His own bedroom.

What did it mean, that he hadn't left at all? She'd expected him to flee the palace, perhaps climb to the apex of the spires to enjoy the solitude. She frowned. He was unexpectedly obedient despite his harsh disposition, and she could not help but wonder why.

She knocked gently. "Prince Mikoto? It's Lumine. May I come in?"

Predictably, she was met with silence.

"If you don't tell me to leave, I'll enter."

She twisted the handle, entering the stillness of the room. Silver light filtered through the windows.

The room was almost as empty as the day she had first arrived.

All except for a young man curled up on the bedsheets, and a small, stained glass lamp swapped for the standard ones on the table behind. Mikoto faced away from the entrance, still as death.

Lumine crossed the room, finding a chair to place beside the bed. She smoothed her skirts as she sat down and waited.

"Here to kick me back to Inazuma? They won't take me," he sneered, yet his voice fell flatter than it usually did.

"Whatever for?" she asked.

"I know your maid tattled," he snapped. "Or you wouldn't be here to berate me."

"Noelle spoke to me, yes," she confirmed. "I'm here because I'm worried about you, not anything else. Are you alright?"

He didn't reply.

"Will you tell me what happened?"

"What's there to say?" he muttered impatiently. "I attacked your maid. Just get my punishment over with already."

Punishment? The word felt bizarre.

"Attacked is a strong word. I won't permit the abuse of anyone in the palace, yet somehow, I don't believe that's what happened. Am I wrong?"

He rolled over, just a little.

Beyond the grumpy expression, he looked exhausted. She had never seen him fatigued before, not even when the Shogun had suspended him from the ceiling in chains. A wave of sadness washed over her.

"I hit her," he said.

"Did you mean to?" Lumine asked.

"Leave me alone," he huffed, turning back over.

Lumine stood, as though to oblige. Instead, she simply stood and walked around the bed so that he was facing her once more; she was nothing if not persistent. His eyes followed her cautiously, and Lumine knelt very slowly so that they were face to face.

"Please let me help you," she said. "I can see that you're in pain, and all I wish for is your happiness. It is my greatest sorrow that I cannot give you freedom. At least let me try to give you a place to heal. Have I not made it obvious enough that I am on your side? I don't have a reason to hurt you; I have no need for using you. But I have a feeling if you let us, we'd understand each other better than you might think."

Mikoto swallowed. "Pathetic. Don't you have a country to run?"

She smiled sweetly. "What if I told you that you're more important to me right now?"

"Then you're even more stupid than I thought."

"Stupid enough to keep throwing myself at a brick wall?"

He closed his eyes.

"I didn't mean to hurt your maid," he confessed.

Her heart warmed, because it was a step: it was something. An admission of vulnerability and honesty, however small, that was worth its weight in gold from him for how pure and rare and precious it was.

"I know," she said. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No." The reply was as instantaneous as it was firm.

She shifted her position so that she was sitting on the ground, her back leaning against the side of the bed and towards the window away from Mikoto. The city below seemed so far away. Lumine did her best for Khaenri'ah, but she had never quite felt like she belonged or that the people had ever wanted her there, not like her brother.

She missed her brother. She wondered if he would've succeeded with Mikoto where she had failed. Lumine could picture it: his infectious enthusiasm whilst he dragged Mikoto to spar with Anemo, or brought him to the town to slay monsters and aid requests in lieu of the Adventurer's Guild, which obviously did not operate in the underground nation.

"Prince Mikoto-"

"Don't," he said softly. Lumine turned as if he had shouted, the sudden calmness of his voice having the same effect. He pulled his torso up until he was half-sitting, glaring down at her with that intense gaze. "Stop calling me that."

"Which part?"

"I am no prince," he said hatefully. "The Shogun sold you droth. The Electro Archon abandoned me the moment I was created. Calling me scion is an insult to the truth."

"I see," Lumine said slowly. "Why is that important?"

He narrowed his eyes.

"Your rank and title don't matter to me. The fact it was a fabrication, or some sort of exaggeration, was rather obvious given even the Kamisatos knew nothing of your existence," she explained. "I read in the past some nations would title commoners before marrying them off to protect their true blood-relations. Much like Khaenri'ah's, well, less than tasteful resurrection of the imperial harem, I assumed something similar occurred."

"You don't understand," he hissed. "I'm a puppet. I don't have any political worth at all!"

"None of that matters to me. With how you were treated, leaving you there was out of the question - servant or prince."

"You're so f*cking stupid," he snapped. "I'm nothing! I'm not real, I'm not even human!" In a fit of frustration, he snatched the lamp from his desk and lifted it above his head, his forearm outstretched.

In a single sudden motion, he swung it down, about to splinter it over his wrist.

There wasn't time to think. Lumine leapt up to catch the blow with her hand, but he moved too fast. The lamp's stained glass shards shattered against the side of her head before she could grab his arm, the impact setting her off-balance as she fell against the mattress.

Lumine blinked, her hand touching her hair. Fragments of amber and olive-green came away on her fingertips, but there was no wetness.

She turned her eyes to Mikoto, who was frozen in shock, the lamp dropped to his side. She didn't smile, her voice cutting.

"What are you trying to prove?" she said, her tone low and dangerous. She rose to her feet, the shards tinkling as they fell from her hair to fracture against the floor. "I carried you to the Inazuman border in my arms. You fell into what I can only describe as a coma. You know I'm not stupid. Did you really think I wouldn't know about your mechanical body?"

She grabbed his wrist, exposing his forearm. "Did you honestly think you had to break yourself open to make your point?"

Of course he didn't. She just couldn't make up her mind about whether he was trying to hurt her, orhimself.

Mikoto just stared, and for the briefest of moments, she thought she saw shame flicker through his expression.

"If you wish for me to stop calling you by your formal rank, then you only needed to ask," she said sharply. "All I ask in return is that you question your own feelings as to why. Is it really because you deem the rank false, as if that changes anything? Or is it because you despise the Archon who purported to give it to you, and the nation and past it represents?"

Mikoto opened his mouth, but Lumine spoke first.

"Enough," she said, pulling away. "There's no need to say anything more."

She pressed a hand to her temple; Lumine knew she had royally messed this one up.

She had intended to help knowing about his fragile state, and all she had prompted was the destruction of quite literally Mikoto's only possession.

The lamp of a country he clearly missed.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"What for?" he huffed.

"Upsetting you," Lumine replied. "There's something I'd like to show you. May I?"

Mikoto frowned. "Do I have a choice?"

"Yes," she deadpanned, in a tone that implied the obviously. "If it makes it easier for you to follow me, we can pretend you don't if you prefer."

He rolled his eyes, sliding off the bed. Lumine used a whirlwind of Anemo to sweep up the glass shards into a pile which she directed to the desk, before leading him out of the room.

-

"Tea again? You need to get new hobbies," Mikoto said as Lumine pulled out a humble terracotta teapot with patterns reminiscent of Liyue. Despite its rustic ornamentation, it was impractically large. When Lumine let go, it hovered, as though set upon an invisible surface.

"I thought you don't hunger or thirst," she said. "Here, get in."

"Excuse me?"

"Get in the teapot," Lumine smiled, thrusting it into his hands.

"Are you insane-!"

As soon as the object was between his palms, Mikoto felt something shift; suddenly, the room around him was enveloped in a golden light, and he was tumbling through reality.

Before he knew it, he was hurtling face-first towards a carpet of grass.

"Agh," he hissed, annoyed and disoriented. He rubbed his head as he turned to the sky above, wincing slightly at the light.

Maybe if he were human, if he had less control over his faculties, his mouth might've fallen open at what he saw.

The sky was a gorgeous, cerulean blue that blanketed the realm with a brightness he couldn't help but feel warmed by. Against it, giant pink lotuses rose like towers from the picturesque backdrop of the rainforest below. He stepped forward upon the grass, tousled by the wind, as he gazed at the foliage. Distinctively vivid green, he recognised palm trees and hibiscuses and purple roses he would have recognised anywhere in the world. Giant leaves opened like umbrellas before streams of turquoise water.

Beyond it, Mikoto saw the unmistakable architectural style of Sumeru City: white-stone structures with lapis blue windows, and stalls and lights and lampposts furnished with bright fabric drapes.

His Vision sung against his skin, and his heart ached.

It wasn't Sumeru at all; it was a mere replica. Even still...

"What is this place?" he said.

"On my travels, the adepti were kind enough to gift me this realm," Lumine explained. "I know you miss Sumeru very much. I wished to create a space inspired by the nation in the hopes it would help you be more comfortable... A leading Kshahrewar scholar named Kaveh helped me perfect the details."

Lumine turned and pointed to another floating isle that seemed to grow out of the sky; upon it was a mansion cushioned upon a giant flower.

"The manor is yours, if you want it. Its furnishings are basic, and I've left plenty of inventory for you to change whatever you'd like."

"Am I trapped here," Mikoto blurted.

"Never," Lumine assured. "If you want to leave, you only need to will it. Or there's a teapot on that island you can touch. We can practice, if that would help?"

He shook his head, hating that he believed her, instead staring at the sub-space. The climate, the sights, the scents... All of it was so painfully familiar. It was like everywhere he looked, he was reminded of her, and the patience and warmth and love she had poured into him to make him whole again.

That girl of dreams in a place he'd never again reach.

He felt so much emotion in him, emotion he thought he had cut away from his body when he'd left Sumeru on that very last day. He cursed the fact it was part of him now.

A quieter, no less potent voice of his was so very grateful for the remnants that proved it had really happened.

"Princess Lumine... Could I be left alone for a while?" he asked hoarsely. "T-to explore, I suppose."

"Of course," she said, turning to leave.

"Wait," he called.

She looked at him, and he looked away.

"Thank you," he said. "I, um... I really do like this place. It's nice."

"I'm so glad," she said, relief in her tone - he couldn't fathom why. "Your smile suits you, you know."

She vanished into light before he could snap a retort back at her.

Mikoto reached upwards for a hat that wasn't there as he descended further into the woods.

If he fell asleep curled up on the bench of the nearest gazebo he could find, thinking of Nahida and memories he'd left behind, only he had to know.

Chapter 13

Chapter Text

Lumine's nightmares never relented.

Her eyes stung against the thick, burning haze of purple that blotted the sky from view.In the shadows, the imposing silhouette of the Mikage Furnace hung from its bridges like an anvil threatening to fall upon her skull.

She felt her hands shaking terribly.

When she glanced at them, a simple box was braced between them.

The lid opened by itself to reveal a lump of flesh, the organ staled by air.

It was a withered human heart.

Lumine awoke with a start, feeling violently ill.

When she rolled, disoriented, she was face-to-face with Xiao. His golden eyes shimmered in the dim light, his hand still beneath the lampshade as though he had barely flicked it on.

Turquoise swatches of shadow lingered behind him, floating upon the air like petals before they dissipated into nothing.

"Xiao. What's wrong?" she asked, rising to her feet immediately.

"I'm... Very sorry to intrude like this," he murmured, his head tilting away from hers; whether it was out of embarrassment or something deeper, she didn't know.

"I can't say I'd like it if you made a habit of it," Lumine admitted, pressing a hand to her burning forehead as she reached for the water. After all, Xiao had intruded into her private chambers; to be so vulnerable, so thrown, in another's company wasn't something she liked. Her consorts relied on her; Celestia's play had cast her as the sun they were to orbit around.

She wouldn't accept them glimpsing her weakness.

"I doubt you'd be here if it wasn't urgent. What happened?"

He didn't meet her eyes. "It's... you."

Her expression grew solemn, and he rushed to clarify.

"Your nightmares. The Twilight Sword informed me you had collapsed earlier, which led to my realisation. Recently, I've been feeling... Spiritual disturbances. At first, it felt to be Prince Mikoto, but I realise now: the source is you." His golden eyes flicked to her. "Something has shifted about you since when we last saw each other, before I came to your nation."

Lumine nodded, a simple confirmation. She had her suspicions. It was improbable to believe that the contract she'd accepted in Inazuma was unlinked to everything she was experiencing, and she had no reason to hide the truth from Xiao.

"Why did you come to my rooms?" she asked.

"Forgive me, Your Highness. I don't mean to place my nose in your business, where it doesn't belong. I only know that your dreams are distressing you, and the fact of the disturbance... It agitates me.

"You know enough of my past; I once ate dreams like breathing oxygen. Were I to consume them, you could sleep peacefully. Even if your dreams are not quite... Normal, I know my abilities will be effective. Do you accept?"

At her silence, he continued gruffly. "You have saved me many times in the past, Princess. I wish to repay the debt."

The offer was a tempting one; Lumine was no saint. She hadn't suffered such nightmares in a long time, the sensation of waking in panic feeding unpleasant memories in its wake.

Her harem was assembling: she needed to be at her best. That was hard to achieve when she was haunted every night.

Yet she could never ask for something so selfish; the thought of accepting was repulsive to the point of pain.

"No, Xiao. Your offer is not unappreciated, nor are the sentiments; I know how much this means, but... How could I agree, when you were forced to consume dreams at the behest of a tyrant long dead?" At his expression, she sighed. "You hate it, don't you? Devouring them, even to aid me, resurfaces unpleasant memories for you, so I would never be content to accept such a thing."

"Your Highness..."

She smiled. The urge to reach for him in her vulnerability was difficult to fight. "I promise you, I am perfectly fine. As the Crown Princess of Khaenri'ah, please trust I have the matter in hand."

"Of course, Your Highness," he said, unconvinced. When he turned, the shadows darkened his face. "Then, I apologise for disturbing you, and I bid you goodnight."

-

"Your tea, Princess!" Noelle beamed enthusiastically. "Complete with valberries for an energising blend!"

Lumine's eyes lingered upon her forearm, covered by her uniform though it was, a tad too long. "Thank you, but... I don't remember requesting a pot? I have lunch in a moment."

"I simply wished to anticipate your needs, Princess!" Noelle said. "The organisation of the consorts has been very stressful, hasn't it? With their arrival mere days away, I thought you might need all the energy you can get!"

"Everyone's been taking care of me recently," Lumine smiled. "Truly, thank you. It's just that I'm more worried about you. Nothing in pain after yesterday? You didn't take the day off like I asked."

"Oh, I promise you, it really was nothing! I just hope Prince Mikoto is alright."

Noelle's heart was too pure for words, and every day Lumine felt grateful she had left Mondstadt to join her.

Unfortunately, there was little she felt she could do to reassure her.

Mikoto was not alright; the sheer anguish in his expression after he had almost injured her with the lamp, and the guilt he was too prideful to admit, worried her deeply.

After all, since his arrival, he had barely moved from his room. She didn't know if he ate or slept. He refused to speak to anyone. She knew he had rejected Xiao's offer to train his newfound Anemo abilities.

Lumine had hoped, perhaps optimistically, that time would heal the wounds that were rooted so deeply in the man's soul. There were no signs of it.

When the other consorts arrived, would it become worse?

Realising the Princess had become lost in thought, Noelle slipped discreetly from her office. It was time for her to drag Dainsleif to lunch; much like Lumine, he never ceased working, and rarely would he take a moment for himself unless she intervened. Her mind wandered into its own mental checklist: she could ask Xiao if he wanted her to purchase any Liyuean goods on his behalf when she went to the market in the afternoon, and...

Suddenly, Noelle rounded a corner almost straight into a dark-haired young man.

Prince Mikoto leaned against the wall as though he belonged exactly where he stood.

"Good morning, Your Highness," she said cheerily, feeling a flicker of amusem*nt as the Prince gaped at her like she was stupid. "How may I assist you today?"

Then he swallowed as he stood, his posture stiff and uncomfortable. She waited.

"...Your arm," he said. "Doesn't it hurt?"

"Barely a bruise, Your Highness! Please do not worry for me. My Vision allows me to be quite durable!"

He didn't look as though he believed her, and was sternly silent for a few moments more. She shifted on her feet, about to open her mouth when he spoke.

"I apologise," he said, his voice quiet like uttering the words would bring Celestia's wrath down upon him. "I did not mean to harm you. I owe you a favour, then. If you need anything done, I'll handle it."

There was a sinister edge to his voice, and Noelle had a sneaking suspicion "handle" "didn't mean helping with the laundry".

"It's quite alright, Your Highness; water under the bridge, I promise. May I help you at all? Directions? Something for your room?"

"...Is she here?"

Noelle didn't need to ask who she was.

She looked at him again, taking in his guarded expression and wary eyes. Even now, half-turned so that his visage was barely facing her in favour of the sunlight filtering through the window, he seemed as though a wrong word would send him fleeing.

She was as surprised by Mikoto coming here as she knew that Lumine would be delighted by the fact.

"Although officially, I ought to say that Crown Princess Lumine is only receiving scheduled appointments, I believe I can make an exception for you today, Prince Mikoto," she smiled. "First door on the left. Shall I accompany you?"

"I've burdened you enough this week," he quipped, quickly striding down the hallway as though afraid she would change her mind. "I can handle a one-minute walk."

Noelle smiled. Perhaps it wouldn't be such a stressful morning, after all.

-

"Princess."

"You can call me Lumine, you know," Lumine said instinctively, absorbed in scribbling her signature across a clean white page as quickly as possible.

It took her a moment to recognise the holder, and she set down her pen in disbelief. Mikoto stared back impassively, his arms folded as he leaned against the doorframe.

"Prince Mikoto," she smiled, standing at once. "I wasn't expecting to see you today."

"What are you doing for lunch?" he said gruffly.

"Paperwork with a side of salad," she replied tiredly. As happy as she was to see him, Celestia's demands for them to follow the old traditions had left the palace in a mess, not least due to the fact said traditions were centuries old and barely anyone was alive enough to remember them. Dainsleif had enough on his plate without questions ofneedlessly complex etiquette.

She shook her head of her thoughts. "Why? If you need something, I'll clear my schedule."

"The kitchen in your... Teapot... Is fully functional."

"Yes, do feel free to use it," she said. "I'm not worried you'll burn it all down - I'll be sure to fix it if you do." She would know if anything happened; the Adeptus realm was nifty like that. "The kitchen is fully-stocked, but please let me know if you need me to procure anything in particular."

"...Can I bring items into it?" his voice was hesitant, as though merely asking might enrage her.

"I'll need to help, but yes."

"Then I don't need anything," Mikoto said briskly, folding his arms.

Lumine smiled. "Good. Let me know when."

"Now," he said irritatedly.

She raised a brow, surprised by his forwardness. "Alright," she agreed easily.

He outright scowled at her. "Are you an idiot?"

"Do enlighten me how."

To her surprise, the prince turned away.

"...Have lunch with me."

Oh. Oh. Mikoto wanted to cook for her.

Her face lit up in a beam.

-

One teapot transportation and twenty minutes later, Lumine sat against the Sumeran cushions that adorned the manor in her teapot realm, watching as Mikoto placed a steaming bowl before her.

"Shimi Chazuke," he said, by way of explanation.

Lumine could feel her mind grind to a halt. Mikoto had shaped the rice into a flower. Mikoto had shaped the rice into a flower-

"Your culinary skills are impressive," she smiled, taking in the wondrously comforting scent of the tea.

He scoffed. "You haven't taken a bite yet."

"Taste isn't the only way to appreciate a dish. Besides, I saw you fillet that eel. You're obviously a practiced hand."

It was yet another oddity of Mikoto's repertoire - or it would have been, had Lumine not been wholly convinced he was nothing like a prince, but a separate mystery altogether.

Mikoto hovered by the top of the table. He had made a single portion, refusing more on grounds of his lack of need.

"Won't you sit with me, at least? I don't want you to feel like a servant. Khaenri'ah has no rules about eating in order of hierarchy."

He sat down, only half begrudging.

"Thank you for the food!"

"It was nothing," he said. "Eat already, before it gets cold. It's... a token, I suppose."

"What for?"

"You took me from Inazuma like you said."

Lumine stilled. She dipped her wooden spoon beneath the green tea, scooping up the fluffy white rice for the perfect mouthful of sesame seeds and seaweed furikake.

The flavour was simple but delicious, blooming warmth over her tongue like a hug.

"It's wonderful. Nostalgic, even though I've never had anything like it before." Her smile faded as she looked upon Mikoto's unchanging expression.

She wondered how much it took from him, to defer to someone else. Was the token a gift of thanks, or an attempt at debt resettled?

"Don't thank me for that. I know the circ*mstances are less than ideal."

"How magnanimous," he said with a roll of his eyes. "Don't think I'm fooled by your show of generosity."

She paused, feeling the tension descend like a cloak. He wouldn't meet her eyes. "What show?"

"Nobody is this generous," he sneered. "Do you think I'm stupid? It's obvious to anyone with a brain what you're after. The Twilight Sword, the last Yaksha, me. So what is it you plan to do with all this power?"

He turned to her, his glower icy. "Tell me what it is you intend to do and I might cooperate. Spare us both the damned trouble of forcing my obedience."

She laughed. "You wouldn't trust a word I said if I had such machinations, even if I laid them out in excruciating detail. Need everything be such a fight? If I wanted an army, I wouldn't have needed to wait hundreds of years to assemble it, nor force a choice handful of men beyond Khaenri'ah's borders. But this isn't about logic, is it?"

Mikoto went silent. Lumine happily finished her meal. When she was done, she stretched out her arms contentedly, thoroughly warmed in every way.

"You're even satisfied by this?" he snarked. "You're less like a princess than I thought."

"I rarely have reason to lie; it was genuinely delicious," she smiled. "Well, I answered a question of yours, so won't you indulge me for one of mine? Fair's fair."

He turned his face slightly to her, a sign he had acquiesced.

"What is it you want from me?" she demanded, and his eyes flared wide in offence. "You were kind enough to make me lunch - thank you - yet you interrogate me and look at me like I'll bite at any moment. You seem to be at war with the idea you can relax even the slightest in my presence. I have no issue with it. The little I learned of your past in Inazuma was... troubling. I know it must be difficult to be around me. Even so, I would hope you needn't keep testing me like this every time we make a semblance of progress. So what is it you want that I can provide to make that happen?"

Mikoto said nothing, the muscles of his jaw terse.

Then, solemnly, he replied, "Nothing."

Trust was not built so easily. It was a truth Lumine had already realised: the prince was so wary and wounded, there was nothing she could do but wait.

"Thank you for the food," she said again, standing to leave. There was no point pushing the issue.

"Wait," he said.

Lumine waited.

"...I'd like to keep staying here," he admitted.

The princess glanced around the wooden manor, the sunlight filtering through stained glass of every emerald and lime and azure hue imaginable. The Adeptus realm was a very healing place.

"Of course you may. Do you want to return to Sumeru?" she asked before she could stop herself.

His expression dakened, and Lumine saw the truth written plainly on his face. She wondered if Mikoto knew the answer. He took the empty bowl from the table and turned without another word.

-

Mikoto's eyes slipped shut in the warm sunset of the teapot realm.

The next thing he knew, his body was being emptied out onto the harsh marble floor of his chambers, his limbs splaying at the impact.

Bastard, he thought as he leapt to his feet. What a filthy hypocrite. She had said- She had promised-

Betrayal surged through him. It hadn't even been a day before she had walked back her platitudes.

Outside, the night sky of Khaenri'ah shimmered obsidian in its silence. Why now? He placed his hand on the teapot, but something had suddenly locked to him. Irritation electrified his fingertips.

He stormed through the palace, intent on confronting her for the ruse. Condensed shards of anemo flickered instinctively along his fingers.

Oh, he thought. It had been a long time since he had been so enraged; it had been so long since he had had expectations of someone else they had fallen short of.

That girl, that Archon he had left behind, had made him soft.

It dawned on him in no uncertain terms that his rage was rooted in the fact he had believed in the princess' words.

A crash in the distance alerted his mechanical ears.

Mikoto paced.

Mikoto stopped.

Before him, in the widened hallway of the atrium, Lumine stood with her blade drawn, encircled by a swarm of hooded figures. Mikoto recognised the dark fabrics of the Fatui uniform immediately: assassins.

A flash of light blinded him as she wielded her power with the mastery of centuries; the swift, hard strike of a sword against bone, and a dull thump as the body crumpled to the floor.

Lumine dispatched every one of them with a ruthless, relentless pace and not a hint of regret or hesitation in her golden eyes.

The Fatui footsoldiers didn't stand a chance.

He knew that. She knew that. It did nothing to draw her mercy.

A figure was knocked to the ground by his feet. Lumine stood, pulling her blade from his back.

"Stay back, Prince Mikoto," she said, her voice eerily calm. "Behind me; I'll protect you."

Annoyed, he stepped out behind her, grabbing the first agent who lunged for him by the neck.

"Hmph. No need."

"You..." the soldier rasped, recognition clear in their gaze. "To think you would-"

Mikoto broke their neck before they could mutter another word.

What followed after was refreshing and satiating in ways Mikoto couldn't name; finally, he had the opportunity to let loose with the force of his raw power. He didn't bother with elemental powers - that would be too impersonal. With kicks, punches, and well-timed blows, he felt the weight of each impact that crushed his opponents with ease.

The display of skills was so pitiful, Mikoto couldn't describe it as a battle. It was a beat down, an absolute curb-stomp of a fiasco that ended too quickly.

Evidently, the Fatui realised. Lumine picked up a curved dagger from the body of a Pyro-wielding assassin, one of the few Vision wielders they had faced. She threw it expertly, and it lodged squarely in the back of the last assailant as they tried to run.

There wasn't a speck of blood on her white clothes.

"Sorry you had to see this," she said quietly. "Did you hear the commotion? I was trying to be understated."

Mikoto folded his arms, a wave of fresh irritation rolling over him once more. "Your little stunt threw me out of my lodgings. Why?"

"Oh," she said, looking genuinely shocked. "You were still in the realm? I'm sorry, I didn't know; when I recall my power to me, every tap is turned to cease the flow. I forgot."

"You couldn't multitask?" he sighed. "These were easy pickings. You didn't need to waste a fraction of your true abilities for them. Neither did I expect you to be so efficient in eliminating every last one; I'm almost impressed."

"Force of habit," she smiled. "It's not always so simple. Well. These incidents have been happening for... I can't even remember how long. You seem accustomed to fighting, but... I'm sorry you had to dirty your hands."

Mikoto gave a short nod of understanding.

He knew. He would never tell her, but he knew exactly how long.

The Fatui had been trying to assassinate Crown Princess Lumine of Khaenri'ah for centuries.

He knew, because a short year ago, he'd been ordering it himself. Evidently, for all her intellectual and physical prowess, she had failed to catch on to the Harbinger element of his previous identity.

Mikoto intended to keep it that way.

Her blade dissipated into petals of light, illuminating her body in an ethereal glow.

There was something otherworldly about it: her apathetic expression where it was so usually filled with life, the silent way she stood in the white, bloodstained hall, entirely alone.

"It doesn't bode well that this has happened when the rest of the consorts arrive tomorrow," she sighed. "Regardless; please rest assured you're safe. The consorts' chambers are guarded by the best. You may trust that you'll sleep peacefully through a hundred of these attacks."

He rolled his eyes.

He believed her.

"Tell me next time."

"Pardon?" she asked.

"Next time you're attacked. I'll be there."

She looked at him, her eyes trailing to the crimson bloodstains that clung against his synthetic skin. "I won't have you kill for me; this is a task I undertake myself."

"Those who strike to kill forfeit complaint when they are killed," he returned. "I hold no such naive principles or reservations. So call me next time."

The corners of his lips quirked upwards as he left.

"Besides, it's not like I have much else to do."

Chapter 14

Chapter Text

Mikoto woke in a foul mood.

It wasn't the hauntings of his past that soured his tongue; no, he had opened his eyes beneath the vibrant hues of the Sumeran rainforest, the carpet of grass lush beneath his mechanical body. For whatever reason, the scenery calmed a part of his subconscious for reasons he didn't care to understand - it didn't affect the outcome, after all. If he had nightmares whenever he slept in Lumine's teapot realm, he never remembered.

Nor was his irritation sourced from the disturbances the night prior. To be thrown from the teapot realm was an inconvenience, but a minor one. The Fatui were nothing to him now, and he would have no respect for the princess if she required any effort in dispatching their grunts.

Still, he supposed, it had been the first time he had witnessed her ability. There was a quality to the memories that made them linger in his mind like a familiar scent. Lumine had made even killing seem placid, as if it were some silent duty, burdening yet cyclical in its nature. She had neither revelled in, nor resented, the chaos of what had to be done.

He was not like her, then.

Mikoto scoffed. Why should it matter to him? He'd always known he was an irredeemable bastard. His very existence was an affront to humanity and the gods alike. Her nobility meant nothing to him; it was, like all other principles, threaded with hypocrisy.

He didn't care.

What irked him was the thought of the new consorts' arrival before midday.

The idea of playing house with a litter of weaklings was physically repulsive. He already could hardly bear the intermittent annoyances of the Twilight Sword, the Yaksha, the maid. To be forced to interact with irrelevant figures plucked from each nation was a humiliation he could hardly bear.

At the very least, he had no need to worry about Schneznaya's candidate. The Tsarista would never send one, which left one less annoyance to bother him.

Mikoto sighed. Lumine had extended an invitation for the ceremony, clear that his presence was not required. The offer was extended on account of his comfort, no doubt - yet another way she proved bizarre. Did she think him stupid? Was she so arrogant to think she could guard them all against his selfishness?

He loathed nothing more than rituals, but even he wasn't willing to risk the consequences of shirking the ceremony to risk the wrath of Celestia and Inazuma alike. Not for her, for himself.

At least, in-person, he would have the best view to dismiss the other candidates who walked through the palace doors.

-

"How is it?" Lumine asked, her heart aflutter with nerves. She turned so that Noelle could see the crown of her hair, intricately braided with fresh flowers beneath the circlet of Khaenri'ahn royalty.

She was in full regalia, today: a pure white gown swept to her ankles, layered like an upturned rose. Her corset, spun from gold, was intricately patterned with the constellation, and a royal blue, fur-trimmed cloak hung heavily from her shoulders.

Truthfully, she was not so concerned with her attire as she was her appearance. Nightfall had ushered in a fresh bout of dreamless horrors; of the stench of sanitiser, and the cold, harsh metal of an operation table her limbs had been strapped to. If she closed her eyes, she could still feel a scalpel beneath her skin.

She jolted from the sensation.

Needless to say, when she had awoken, heavy bags had shadowed her eyes like soot. A week's worth of concealer hadn't quite lifted the discolouration. She could only hope, from atop her throne, nobody could see the details of her pallor.

Noelle inspected her carefully, squeezing her hand reassuringly as she passed.

"You look beautiful, Your Highness; the picture of perfection," she promised, and Lumine believed her. Noelle would never let her have a hair misplaced for such a significant occasion. Then, as if she had known why Lumine had really asked, "my particular compliments to your make-up. You will leave every guest in attendance speechless, I'm sure."

Lumine returned a weak smile. "That's good," she said.

The consorts from Mondstadt, Liyue, and Sumeru would all be in attendance: the first time she had met all three.

She could only pray, despite her careful vetting of each candidate, her choices would not betray her.

-

Kaveh of Sumeru fidgeted incessantly, hopping from foot to foot as though the carpet were aflame.

The Royal Palace of Khaenri'ah was such a masterpiece of architecture, his breath had been stolen from his lungs. Crafted from the purest, most luminescent white, the bright spires and slopes of its elegant silhouette shone like the moon in the lightless underground of the nation. So enraptured had he been, so occupied in marvelling at its beauty, that he had utterly forgotten himself and his anxieties.

That here he was - effectively selling himself to the god of Khaenri'ah, Celestia's minion, for the sake of his nation and his bottomless pool of debt.

His gut twisted. The attendants of the palace had been kind - very kind - leading him to his own private drawing room to rest before his official introduction before the princess. They had seemed surprised, perhaps even confused, that he had made the long journey alone.

The Dendro Archon had offered aides, of course, but Kaveh had known the tokenistic gesture would only make him feel worse, ballooning the guilt that already made him so light-headed he could hardly stand it.

As he travelled the rivers and seas, he had thought for hours upon hours of what he could say to win the princess' favour.

All of it had flown from his head.

He had glimpsed, too, the wealth and culture of the other nations as he had paraded himself to the palace gates. The teal tapestries flying Mondstadt's banner, the carts upon carts of fine silks from Liyue. Dowry for the crown princess, he had heard them say.

Kaveh had only brought himself.

The shame was enough to swallow him.

When Lesser Lord Kusanali had spoken to him about the role, she had so patiently guided him through the requirements: a Vision, competence in battle, excellence in a field.

Yet he was certain he would never measure up to the picture of his fellow courtesans painted by the rumours. A warrior-privateer, who braved the seven seas, blessed by Ningguang the Tianquan of Liyue and descended from a historic clan of Inazuma. A former executive of the Knights of Favonius, noble, and entrepreneurial billionaire. A prince.

What was Kaveh? A commoner without a penny to his name, who hadn't heard a sentence about or from his mother in a decade? A pitiful excuse for a greatsword wielder, who could hardly lift a blade without his vision? A washed-up architect whose narrow creativity would never compare to the wondrous structures of Khaenri'ah?

A flawed, pitiful creature who had half-impulsively fled Sumeru because his shattered heart could no longer stand the proximity to a man who would never love him in the way he needed.

Truly, his muddied motives set him up for a wonderful start, he thought drearily.

He exhaled slowly into his palm. He was fortunate that at least his crisp, white suit had remained unspoiled. For all the negative volleys Alhaitham often tossed towards his appearance, he knew for a fact he wasn't unpleasant to look at. If that was the only value he held here, so be it.

His mind reeled back to his selection, all those months ago, when he had privately confided his disbelief to their Archon.

"Kaveh," Lesser Lord Kusanali had smiled. "You are, without a shadow of a doubt, the greatest candidate we could hope for to offer in response to Celestia's summons. Please do not doubt your ability, nor the principles you embody as a citizen of this nation. Please do not doubt my words when I say this: you carry with you the spirit of Sumeru's wisdom."

He certainly didn't feel like it now.

"The Princess is ready for you, sir," an attendant said dutifully. "May I lead you to the throne room?"

There was no turning back.

"Yes," he replied. "I'm ready."

-

The throne room had been filled to the brim with crowds of the court. Lumine smiled sweetly as the trumpets blared and she ascended the dais to the throne; it was, she thought, a necessary evil. For the nation Celestia had descended upon and taken as its own, such shows of tradition - derived as they were from the original ruling nobility - were a necessary show of respect.

At least, to her. To others, it was a shameful parody. Lumine melded the two truths between her palms, letting them coexist. Celestia was apathetic. It had never provided an answer as to which was closer to correct.

On either side of her throne, two additional, less ornate seats had been laid out on the lower levels, four in total. Four was right. Xiao, as official as a member as he was, was not a representative of one of the Seven Nations; as a result, he could evade the ceremony.

On the far end, her eyes widened as she saw one was already occupied before she had been announced.

Mikoto perched with a cold arrogance like he owned the palace, his legs crossed petulantly and his chin resting upon his fist as he leaned casually to the side. He lounged like it was an act of protest, his contemptuous glare out towards the crowd radiating his irritation. Only the white robes he wore - his sole outfit - that cascaded from his body provided him a semblance of elegance.

Lumine almost wanted to laugh. How very like him.

All she could see was a grumpy cat.

Her smile quirked in amusem*nt. She was certain Dainsleif would be furious at the breach of protocol, as would the courtiers - but who would stop a royal consort from doing as they wished? Lumine would never abide them laying a hand on him, and he knew that. He truly was a rascal.

Still, her heart warmed at his presence.

For so long, she had burdened the rituals of monarchy alone. With Mikoto's presence, however harshly he sent the message he would forgo the pomp of the ceremony itself, her heart felt a little lighter.

Still, she wouldn't let him get away without any of it.

If he wished to adlib, to play with the elements of the show, then so too could she.

Instead of seating herself in silence, she paused at the top of the stairs, holding up a hand to cease the fanfare. Then, with a smile, she turned to address the audience.

"My dear citizens of Khaenri'ah," she smiled. "It is the truest of honours to have you share in bearing witness to the ordaining of the imperial harem on this day. To revive an honoured tradition in the modern era is a duty I do not take lightly. However, I hope you will share in my excitement to forge and strengthen our bonds with our neighbours across Teyvat. Khaenri'ah's lonely sentence of isolation has always settled against my heart. With this act, I hope to lead Khaenri'ah into a new, brighter future for us all."

The throne room erupted into applause.

Slowly, she made eye contact with Mikoto, whose frown narrowed to a scowl.

"May I present to you the first of the consorts to arrive: His Royal Highness, Prince Mikoto of Inazuma."

She crossed to where he sat, unmoving, and leaned towards him with a smile. Turned away from the crowd, they could not see the glint in her eye as her head tipped forwards, leaving the question of intimacy hanging in the air. To the crowd, with the gesture half-obscured, it would seem to be a mark of affection. Could it be a kiss? Or more likely, the whisper of reassurance? The truth is, she hovered so far from him, never actually touching him at all.

The illusion was the point. The show of intimacy to prove her favour. There would be questions of his origins, no doubt - a prince of the Electro nation was unheard of - but with this, his position would be secure.

"What nonsense," Mikoto huffed.

"Thank you for coming," she beamed.

"I don't need your mark of legitimacy," he spat.

"You don't," she agreed. "However, I wish for you to have it."

He produced a derisive, guttural sound in response.

"Come and sit closer to me?" she asked. "If nothing else, I know you'll have no shortage of comments about the rest of this."

"And entertain you for free?" he snorted, though there was no bite to it. "Not likely."

"Very well," she smiled. Lumine was content with this.

This was enough.

The second she lowered herself to her throne, the ceremony began.

-

Diluc was, he considered, surprisingly calm given the circ*mstances.

Then again, nothing could surmount the misery of his past. He had long since closed off his heart. After enduring such a storm, nothing could compare to shake him.

Not even sacrificing himself for the Knights he so loathed.

Silence fell across the throne room as he entered, the high white arches of the hall making him feel like an insect before the divine.

To his left, the Twilight Sword stood emotionless as he announced his arrival. He could not help but steal a moment to assess the man: a fellow warrior, doubtless worthy of his respect based on sheer aura alone.

"Presenting Sir Diluc Ragnvindr of Mondstadt, Head of the great Ragnvindr Clan, former Captain of the Knights of Favonius, and bearer of the Vision of Pyro."

He strode through the hall with a confidence he did not feel, and lowered himself to one knee before the throne. This was court etiquette; this was routine. The Knights' ceremonies had prepared him well, and he found his apathy to be a welcome pillar of calm to lean against for balance.

The princess stared down at him with eyes of gold, calm as the surface of a lake. Her hands were braced against the arms of her throne like a dragon. She was, he thought, striking.

She was smaller than he had expected, yet her presence was irrefutably strong as steel.

"Diluc Ragnvindr humbly greets your Imperial Highness," he said, one palm pressed to his heart as he bowed his head. "It is the honour of my lifetime to represent Mondstadt as a founding member of the royal harem."

"Rise, Sir Diluc," she called. Her voice was like a dance, elegant and smooth. "I have long heard tale of the Ragnvindr clan's noble feats. For the youngest Captain in the Knights of Favonius' history to join us, I am most honoured. I pray the winds assured you of a safe journey?"

Despite the consideration in her words, no doubt for the benefit of the court, he felt his stomach roil at the reminder of his family name and former title.

That was what he was here: an object of his achievements.

"Indeed, just as my homeland has blessed me with treasures I wish to lay at the feet of your great nation, Your Highness," Diluc replied easily. Court-speak was a familiar game to him. He had played it with the ex-aristocratic elite of Mondstadt since he was a child. "With me, I bring a humble offering of one hundred crates of the finest Dandelion Wine to gift you. I procured them myself, at my family's Dawn Winery."

Behind him, he heard whispers ricochet against the walls of the room.

The reason was no secret. Dandelion wine was a priceless luxury good; from the long-established, prestigious Dawn Winery, even more valuable. One hundred crates was worth a small fortune, one that would easily feed a family for several lifetimes over. That was without mentioning Khaenri'ah was cut off from the rest of the world. Imports of such a rare, distant good would be invaluable to the people.

None of it had been easy to procure. One hundred crates comprised all of the best from his business' stockpile, and he had expended no shortage of gold to buy back the finest crates to cover the remaining shortfall.

The reason for the effort was simple: it was Diluc's stratagem to illustrate his worth to the crown princess. Mondstadt, after all, had no one else to send. A bribe for his safety, a price for her favour. All of it, everything, was transactional, just as his life had been in homeland, too.

Only the princess' features did not light up with glee.

"Your gesture is deeply appreciated, Sir Diluc," she said with a frown. "Yet I must ask: what is this generosity for?"

He frowned. Was it not enough? Or did she think him shallow for daring to suggest money and alcohol was all that was needed to please her? Was this not how royalty behaved?

"Consider it a dowry, Your Highness," he replied.

"A dowry?" she echoed, disapproval clear in her voice, and he felt his stomach sink. "Thank you, Sir Diluc, but there is no need for such a thing. Your presence here is wealth enough, and it would be remiss of me to take more when you have sacrificed so gracefully to be before me today. Nevertheless, it would be most inappropriate of me to reject a gift outright. May I, perhaps, accept no more than one dozen crates?"

He looked at her in utter confusion. The politeness of the question was not emblematic of the despot he had heard of, of the way Celestia's shadow quietly loomed with an iron fist. Wasn't she ruthless?

Could she be different to what he had thought?

"As for the rest, if it is not possible for you to transport home, perhaps we could find a different use for them. To dedicate the funds to a charitable cause for the good of our nation, for which we may both agree on and spearhead in our time together. Is that acceptable to you?"

His eyes widened.

It was, he thought, a wonderful solution.

In an instant, sentiments of loyalty stirred within him. Diluc was one too cynical, too jaded, to be won in a moment.

Yet the Princess had immediately cut awfully close.

"You are incomparable to all they say," he said, a genuine smile borne of hope on his lips. "Yes, that is quite agreeable to me, Your Highness. I pray for the prosperity of Khaenri'ah."

Perhaps coming here, he realised, was not a death-knell, but a rebirth. The quiet hope for his future sang in his heart as he ascended the steps to the consorts' seats, pulsing and warm, and then-

Then, he locked eyes with a familiar face, standing quietly behind her master's throne. A girl who had hardly changed, yet was unrecognisable. A girl he had thought he would never see again.

Noelle.

-

Kaedehara Kazuha had long been at peace with the world.

When he stepped into the throne room, clad in the golden robes of Liyue, he felt no less immersed in that peace than he did when travelling it upon the wide, open seas.

"Presenting Sir Kaedehara Kazuha of Liyue, Scion of the ancient Kaedehara Clan of Inazuma, representative of the Liyue Qixing, and bearer of the Vision of Anemo."

If anyone thought it was odd he was representing Liyue in spite of his Inazuman heritage, it was not reflected in the crowd. They stood, calm like a forest of souls, neither emotive nor stoic. He lowered himself before the princess' throne with a bow. Kazuha had imagined this moment, and yet, he found he could not recall any of his expectations. The crew had teased him mercilessly, bombarding him with questions and doubts about his new position. They had asked him to wonder whether he would really live a life of satisfaction in Khaenri'ah. They had been rather pessimistic, all around.

Kazuha didn't share those sentiments. How fortunate he was, he thought, to have an opportunity reserved for but a handful of others in a brotherhood now his own.

He had travelled the world, but he had yet to discover the wonders of Khaenri'ah. He took in the aura of the crown princess before him. Sweet, brilliant, kind. Perhaps, he hoped, it was finally time for his spirit to find a home.

"On behalf of Lady Ningguang the Tianquan, and Captain Beidou of the Crux, I am humbled to make your acquaintance, Princess," he said gently. "May the future of the Imperial Harem bloom into a new age."

"At ease, Sir Kazuha," she reassured him. When their eyes met, he had the keen sensation that she was looking through him, and understood at once the core of his being. Her expression was not of sympathy, but of simple acceptance, and he knew at once that for however lofty she was, they were the same in that regard.

Ah, he thought. So this was what it was, to be a deity above all others.

"I have always wondered," her voice rang, "about what kind of individual could win such strong favour from both Lady Ningguang and Captain Beidou. I see I was not to be disappointed."

"One is far harder to earn than the other, I should think," he joked politely.

A gentle laugh escaped her lips. "Quite. You hail from Inazuma, yet you come representing Liyue. I understand you have travelled long and far; I pray you will not be disappointed, settling here."

"With one so gracious at the helm, I doubt that would be possible," he replied. "With how I hope to make myself useful, I know I will not be bored."

"Oh? How so?" she inquired.

"As a token of my sincerity to our courtship, as your courtesan, if I may be so bold as to offer... Accompanying me, I have brought bolts of the finest silks from Liyue. In my travels, I have picked up amateur skills as a tailor. I would be honoured to tailor you any accessory or item to your tastes, Princess."

It was, he had heard, a common enough practice in Liyue. More than that, however, he wished to prove himself as a candidate to support her.

"Oh? Is this your spin on a dowry?" she asked with a wry smile.

"No, as much as I admire Sir Diluc for trying so," he replied. The consorts beyond the door could easily hear what was occurring inside, and he was loathe to antagonise a brother in arms.

"Hm. You tailor your own clothes, I take it?" she asked thoughtfully.

"Yes, Your Highness."

"If you are more accustomed to producing garments for the male form, then perhaps I might ask a favour? I am certain my consorts would be grateful to have pieces designed by one so well-travelled, particularly as they adjust to Khaenri'ah's new climate." The air underground was not stagnant, but it was certainly less temperamental than the elements of the surface. "Forgive me. Perhaps the task would be too great to burden you with..."

"Not at all," he replied sincerely. The prospect, rather, was exciting. His eyes flickered between the thrones, to the unimpressed figure glaring at him and Sir Diluc's serious stature. Then there was the beautiful man waiting to present himself. They were all, he thought, colourful personalities, each distinct in their own way. He would greatly enjoy such a task.

Perhaps, even, it could be a way for them to bond.

"I would be honoured."

-

Kaveh's legs trembled as he entered the throne room.

All he had overheard had done nothing but exacerbate his fears in the seeping, irreversible way dye spilled on cloth. He had no wealth, no skills to offer, not like Diluc or Kazuha.

He had nothing. He was nothing.

"Presenting Sir Kaveh of Sumeru, Light of the Sumeru Akademiya's Kshahrewar, and bearer of the Vision of Anemo."

The words rang like lies in his ears, not for their form but their substance: they implied he was greater than he was.

He lowered himself before the throne, and his eyes caught the figure atop it.

He stared, and he couldn't rip his eyes away.

She was, in a word, resplendent. The picture of beauty, the kind of beauty men wrote poems about and took up arms for. It wasn't just her golden features or the wise, worldly weight of her stare; it seemed as if the world around her seemed to bend to frame her.

"Sir Kaveh?" she smiled, and suddenly, Kaveh's traitor of a brain caught up with reality. She had given him permit to rise, and he had simply knelt there, gaping like a fish.

"F-forgive me, Your Highness," he stuttered, lowering his head in shame. "I-it's just... You're so beautiful."

There was a moment of silence. Kaveh didn't dare to breathe. Then, she spoke.

"It pleases me to hear you say so. From one with an eye for aesthetics as finely-tuned as yours, it's the highest compliment," she praised. "I hope your brilliant mind won't become tired of our Khaenri'ahn architecture."

"Never!" he assured quickly, too quickly. The words left his lips in a flurry, and he mentally kicked himself for his impulsiveness. He was making a damned fool of himself; the crown princess deserved better than a fool. "I... I find myself at a loss for words to describe it, in the best way possible," he said truthfully. "I have long since held that art is the wellspring of a life in the design, yet the arches and sculptures transcend that, here. Sumeran architecture has a penchant for the biological; the forests, flowers. Yet everything about the palace radiates the ethereal, the lunar. It's a source of great inspiration for me, if you'll allow me to say so."

A smile spread across the princess' lips, and in that moment, Kaveh thought he would do anything for her.

"I look forward to the designs you'll produce, then. Perhaps, if there is time on your busy schedule, you might be willing to lend your expertise to the palace?"

Kaveh's jaw went slack.

Him?

"Y-you want... my advice?" he stammered. "For... the palace?"

"But of course," she replied, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "Rarely am I granted the opportunity to work with a renowned genius of their field. Perhaps we might discuss the matter once you've seen more of the palace; I would like nothing more than to pick your mind."

Kaveh felt his cheeks heat shamelessly at the compliment - how could he not blush? Praise, so high and so freely given he could hardly conceptualise it, was rare. When his life had consisted of backhanded nagging, pretences, and scorn towards the habits that made him human, he couldn't help but melt in the warmth of the light she offered him.

"I'd like nothing more, Your Highness."

His heart swelled with pride.

-

Mikoto had seen enough.

The mechanic muscles in his face were numb from twisting into a scowl for so long, yet it was an unavoidable price. He hadn't realised he cared enough to be disappointed, but perhaps that was a mere reflection of the quality.

Every man who had traipsed through the doors was utterly pathetic. The last one, most of all. What was Lesser Lord Kusanali thinking?

This drivel was the best the infamous Princess of Khaenri'ah could gather? Misfits and morons?

Redhead aside, none of them seemed they would last five minutes against a Fatui ambush. Where was the strength, the skills, the achievements they boasted? It was unfathomable for Lumine to think them on par with the last Yaksha alive and the Twilight Sword, to say nothing of his own unique history.

What a joke.

To think he had wasted his morning on something so worthless. He was embarrassed to be part of it. If the Doctor could see him now...

Mikoto shuddered in revulsion. Time, he decided, to be alone.

He disappeared into solitude the first moment he could.