A private tour, a shared toast, and a question that's been six years in the making.
Reader: Gender neutral, Tactician for the Knights of Favonius, codename "Falcon" for the Northern Intelligence Network, Hydro Vision, catalyst wielder, back from the Nod Krai expedition
Masterlist | AO3
Word count: 2.7k
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Chapter 4: A Strategic Proposal
After your shift, you made your way to the Dawn Winery. The sun was hot, lowering in the horizon, and as you got closer, you could hear the heavy buzz of cicadas and other insects at home among the grapevines.
You used your gloved hand as a shield from the brightness as you followed the dirt path towards the winery's front doors. Once you emerged from the height of the vines, you heard Diluc calling your name from within the greenery. His vibrant red hair stood out starkly against the lush green, and you were unsure how you had missed him while walking amidst the leaves.
As you walked towards him, you noticed a muted smile on his face and a slight crinkle in his eyes, likely due to the intruding sun behind you. At home in the winery, he was dressed far more casually - a white button-up, his sleeves again rolled to his elbows, a light vest, and his hair tied in a loose, low bun. Most striking of all, his hands were free of his signature leather gloves.
He was holding a woven basket in his right hand, filled with grapes he had likely picked himself, and a vibrant bouquet of windrest flowers in various colours. You paused, taking off your own heavy gloves and coat; your rigid work attire felt entirely out of place under the golden glow of the vineyard sun.
"Here," Diluc said, holding out the basket. His free hand reached out for your discarded coat and gloves. "Let us trade. The flowers are for you regardless."
You obliged. As you completed the exchange, your now bare fingers grazed his warm skin. You felt a light blush appear on your complexion and quickly looked down at the flowers.
"Thank you," you started, cradling the blooms now in your palm, your eyes focused solely on the petals. "Windrest flowers are my favourite. It must have been out of your way to find them."
Diluc shook his head, his smile lingering as he gestured toward the estate, allowing you to walk alongside him. "Please, it was my pleasure. I recall your fondness for these blooms from our letters."
You stiffened. Your gaze met Diluc's, finding him gilded by the late-afternoon haze. You did not recall ever sharing that particular detail in your correspondence - it must have been a passing mention from years ago. The realization that he had remembered and sought them out settled into your head, humming just like the cicadas in the vines.
Stopping before the massive doors of the winery, you forced your face into a neutral, professional mask. You needed to anchor yourself to business before you could spiral any deeper into the significance of the bouquet.
"What are your plans for the gala?" you asked, your voice steady. "I am curious how we can station knights both inside and outside the winery."
Diluc stopped as well, turning to face you. The sun was directly behind him now, outlining his shoulders in gold, but the deep glow in his eyes remained. "Right. I have planned a brief tour for you so we can review the details in the corresponding locations. As for the vineyard, I was thinking we could station uniformed knights, as we do not want our guests wandering into the fields."
"Yes, agreed," you said, falling into step beside him as he continued the tour.
Rather than heading inside the main doors, you made your way around the perimeter of the grounds. Together, you spoke of the event's logistics: the number of knights required for security, which officers should be integrated as disguised guests, and how to coordinate patrol shifts. You meticulously recorded every detail in your notebook.
Eventually, you circled back to the rear of the estate, where a few wrought-iron garden tables and chairs sat near the winery's brick walls. Diluc stepped forward, quietly pulling out a chair for you.
You sat facing each other. As you examined the grounds, you felt Diluc's undivided attention on you. You analyzed the rows of grapevines stretching into the distance and the arrangement of the nearby tables, your mind immediately shifting to tactical placement.
"Are you planning on keeping these tables here for the event?" you asked. "If so, we should station an undercover knight to act as a drinks server to ensure we have no blind spots."
Diluc nodded, though his attention was momentarily diverted. Adelinde emerged from the backdoor of the winery, carrying a silver tray with two flutes of sparkling wine and a plate of delicate, beautifully arranged hors d'oeuvres. She set the glasses and plates down, then quietly gathered your coat, gloves, and the grape basket, leaving only the colorful bouquet of windrest flowers resting on the table between you.
"I had arranged for the staff to present the new sparkling wine and hors d'oeuvres that I am planning on serving at the gala," Diluc said, lifting his glass at eye-level. "Please let me know your thoughts."
Surprised by the unexpected merriment of the afternoon, you lifted your glass to match his.
With your gazes locked, the dipping sun caught the liquid, casting a tender, glistening reflection across both your faces. You sipped the wine in perfect tandem, your eye contact as steady and deliberate as a choreographed dance, before setting your glasses down at the same moment.
"It is quite delicious," you finally got out, your voice dropping to a near whisper. Breaking the intense eye contact, you reached for the food to fill your plate. "I am used to planning logistics and battle tactics with you. I am delighted to learn your expertise extends to formal events."
Diluc, whose gaze had not wavered since your toast, tilted his head slightly. "It is but one of many responsibilities of the Master of the Winery. I take it that you were also surprised to witness me tending to the grapes?"
You recognized the faint, smug smile playing on his lips - it was the exact same look he had worn during your walk home a week prior.
Refusing to take his bait, you looked out over the sprawling grounds. "It must be a massive amount of work for one person to maintain an estate this large," you yielded.
You looked at the hundreds of grapevines that required watering, harvesting, and constant care. You found yourself picturing Diluc waking in the quiet hours of the early morning to check on the crops under a rising sun, or patrolling the fields under the silver light of the frost moon. When you looked back, Diluc was insistently pushing the plate of food closer to you, encouraging you to keep tasting.
As you ate, Diluc walked you through the remainder of the arrangements. He produced detailed floor plans of the winery's main and upper floors, noting exactly where guards could be stationed and which private rooms should remain unlocked to give guests an illusion of privacy. You agreed with his assessments, noting how frequently he used phrases like "in my opinion" and "as a suggestion." He was intentionally stepping back, allowing you to make the final executive calls.
Once the food and the wine were thoroughly tasted, Diluc led you inside the estate. He held the heavy door open for you, and you stepped through, cradling the windrest flowers close to your chest.
The atrium was spectacular; the paper floor plans had done no justice to the sheer majesty of the high ceilings. You stepped into the center of the room, where the brassy, late-afternoon light filtered through the towering windows, breathing life into the polished wood and stone. Looking up, you noted the railing of the upper landing - the exact location you had just discussed for the undercover knights.
Diluc followed you, stopping a few paces away. Near the grand staircase, a young pianist had just sat down at the grand piano. The pianist began practicing a waltz, starting in a moody, melancholic minor key before beautifully resolving into a major key, pausing briefly before repeating the cycle.
"There will be dancing at the gala," Diluc started, his voice carrying over the music. "I have hired local musicians to perform. I believe if we have any urgent information to share during the event, we can meet on the dance floor and use our shared code." He took a step closer. "I will also ensure my office is kept unlocked during the evening, should either of us require absolute privacy."
You nodded, thoroughly impressed by his detailed planning. The piano melody rose to a sweeping crescendo, its rhythmic beat tapping in your mind.
Suddenly, Diluc held out his bare hand. Your eyes snapped directly to his open palm.
"Shall we practice our dance for the event?" he asked.
Your eyes widened. You instinctively took a step back, crossing your arms so the bouquet rested firmly in the crook of your elbow. "Please, Diluc, I have had more than enough formal dance training to manage. Besides, won't the arm of the Master of the Winery be entirely occupied on the night of the gala?"
Diluc lowered his hand, an incredibly gentle smile appearing on his face.
"Then I will simply have to make time for the only dance that matters to me," he said, his voice low.
Before you could process the weight of his words, he turned and began walking towards the stairs, lightly tapping the polished wood of the piano as he made his way to the bottom stair.
"There is just one last thing to discuss," he called back over his shoulder. "We will go to my office for more privacy."
You nodded and followed. As you passed the piano, the musician hit the looping turnaround of the melody once more.
It was only when you were halfway up the grand staircase that you caught yourself. Your boots were striking the wooden steps in a strict, deliberate three-quarter time - perfectly mimicking the rhythm of the waltz.
You froze for a fraction of a second, deeply annoyed by your own compliance, before forcing your stride back into a flat, unyielding march.
–
Diluc led you to his office on the second floor, a large room with a desk full of books, letters and contracts on one end and a couple of velvet couches surrounding a fireplace on the far end. To the right of the fireplace was a door to the balcony, the windows of which invited the sunset.
You noticed how bookshelves and portraits of Diluc and his father decorated the walls. You gravitated towards a portrait on the wall opposite the desk showing Crepus proudly wrapping his arms around little Diluc, who just became Cavalry Captain. The likeness was accurate; he looked just like the knight you respected while you were in training. Diluc sat at his desk as you analyzed the portrait, your back towards him.
"I understand there is some hurt in your past," you started gently, turning to look at him. "But the likeness here is bringing up fondness and admiration for who you were back then."
You noticed his jaw stiffening again, much like your past conversation in your office. You stepped into the sun-dappled space and noticed Diluc's eyes were wide, with hints of a suntan on his face from your time outdoors.
"I am unsure if this means anything to you, but I just want you to know the impact you had on myself and on others at that time, despite it being unpleasant to recall."
His eyes caught some of the flames from the fireplace and burned extra crimson. You could not read his expression, and were worried you had overstepped.
"Come, sit," he said delicately.
You sat in the chair opposite him, noticing your coat and gloves rested on the back, likely placed there by Adelinde. You set the flowers down atop the desk, in a space towards the middle with little clutter, the golden rays hitting the bouquet like a spotlight.
"What is there left to discuss?" you asked.
Diluc's mouth slightly tilted at your question, seemingly unaffected by your prior comment. His hands were clasped in front of him, still without his leather gloves; he was the picture of calm. He took a deep breath and leaned slightly forwards, into the intruding warmth.
"I have been thinking about our current arrangement, and I've concluded that a formal courtship is the most logical progression." He leaned further forward, his eyes radiating and infusing the molten light from outside. "I admire you, and our recent outings have gathered suspicion. I strongly believe this is the only way to move forward with our correspondence while keeping public chatter at bay."
You stood up from the chair, a cold wave of astonishment washing over you at the clinical precision of his declaration. You started pacing around the room while Diluc remained perfectly still at his desk, his eyes tracking your every step.
"A formal courtship? You pitch this as a business proposal, as if I am a strategic asset to your winery. You cannot be serious."
"I am most serious," he stated, rising from his chair to lean over the desk toward you, his posture losing its rigid calculation for a split second, almost as if he were silently pleading with you to see the sense in it. "Our identities within the Intelligence Network are crucial to remain hidden. A member of the Knights constantly seeking the attention of the Master of the Dawn Winery invites scrutiny neither of us can afford. With the gala coming up, this is the optimal time for my growing feelings to be known. As a couple, we can share our intel more freely, we can be seen in public without chatter, and we can attend the same events together to further expand our reach. If it helps, consider this a defensive measure."
"You offend me, Master Diluc." You stopped pacing and stood across from him at the desk, the molten gold of the sunset multiplying the intensity in your eyes. "You call this defensive; I call it condescension. I do not need your protection, I have worked hard to get where I am with the Knights and I have braved the expedition with difficulty and success. I do not need your pity and I cannot be moved by such unfeeling truths."
You watched as his hands clenched into tight fists against the dark wood of the desk. The steady, unshakeable calm he usually carried vanished, replaced by a sudden, tense rise and fall of his chest. He looked at you, his brows knitted in a deep, genuine confusion. The embers of his eyes darkened, contrasting the saturated, flushing color of his cheeks.
"So you haven't felt anything towards me since you arrived from the expedition? How about our letters - does the past six years as my confidant mean nothing to you? Are you telling me that our time today spent at my estate has not moved your heart, even a little bit?"
"Not at all," you responded quickly.
You stepped away from the desk as Diluc sat back down, both of you facing each other in the long-shadowed stillness.
"Not at all?" Diluc repeated, his gaze lowered as he crossed his arms over his chest.
You grabbed your coat and gloves, started to leave the room, yet stopped in the doorframe, your back to him, waiting for his final words.
"I confess, I did not expect this conclusion," Diluc's voice came from the depths of the room, sounding smaller and more hollow than you had ever heard it. "I suppose I vastly misread the situation, and took your professionalism for admiration. Forgive me. I suggest we continue our correspondence through formal letters moving forward."
You cast one final look over your shoulder. He had already dropped his head into his hands, completely withdrawing into the dim, flickering shadows of the fireplace as the last rays of sunset bruised into a deep violet. You stepped out into the hall, the heavy door clicking shut behind you.
You then left the winery, feeling agitated about his proposal. The nerve of him using your feelings as a business strategy and the unfeeling manner with which he declared his admiration infuriated you greatly. You ran home, still carrying the tension and adrenaline of that conversation. And when you got home, you fell to your bed and wept.
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Author's note: Poor Diluc 😭😭😭 as part of my Diluc as Mr. Darcy agenda, he unfortunately had to fumble this proposal
Cw: poly(focused on Diluc and Wriothesley), suggestive
Part 1
A/N: and then they kith :V
I am still debating more or not but we'll see.
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Diluc is strong despite how lean and unassuming his form is underneath that coat. The moment it's off and one gets a good look at his forearms there is no denying that he is more than just the master of the Dawn Winery and bartender.
Perhaps the talk of him being a knight, or a former one at least, is true. Diluc holds himself with sureness as he mixes the tea and grape juice just so to create a perfect blend just for the two of them. There's no hesitation just an ease that comes with dedication and discipline that leaks from one who has trained to fight to protect others.
Not that Wriothesley would be able to learn about the truth of that matter if his tongue is busy. It was a simple thing really. Just a drop slipping past his lips quietly wiped off by a thumb and unthinkingly swiped up by Diluc's tongue. Who kissed who first? Who knows.
Seated side by side, alone in the safety of his office where the guards were just far enough not to hear, their kiss has the essence of sweet grapes and fresh tea leaves.
It's nothing grand, it's slow. Patient. Filled with a desire that both burns so passionately and freezes one in place with how new it is. Wriothesley's reminded of how he first kissed their partner how exhilarating and frightening getting into a relationship was. How vulnerable he allowed himself to be and how terrifying it was to realize he was and is safe in their arms.
Diluc must feel the same way with how cautiously he treats this. He doesn't push for a deeper kiss until Wriothesley opens his lips making the first step and without hesitation matches his efforts.
He slides his hands onto Diluc's hips as he wraps his arms around his shoulders and in one swift motion lifts the man onto his lap earning himself a surprised gasp. Wriothesley hums before pulling back admiring the Master's ruddy cheeks.
"Cute." Diluc huffs rolling his eyes but doesn't move from his place instead bringing him close enough he could admire the little flecks of color in his icy eyes. "I'm sure this isn't exactly the 'chat' you had in mind coming here."
"Nooo..." Wriothesley drags out his eyes jumping from Diluc's red lashes to his lightly swollen lips. "But I don't mind it."
"And..." Wriothesley glances past Diluc meeting a familiar gaze. "I don't think our guest minds either."
Diluc startles at that his head whipping so fast his hair slaps Wriothesley's face making him blink at the softest blow he's ever taken. His relaxes immediately the moment he sees that the guest was none other than their partner.
"I'm glad to see you two getting along," Their eyes trail down the slope of Diluc's ass and the subtle tent of Wriothesley's pants. "Or maybe I should say 'getting it on'?"
Heat fills Wriothesley's face and it's not hard to notice Diluc's shame either with how much color fills his cheeks. Wriothesley lifts his hands in surrender and Diluc takes the opportunity to sit right back where he was before this all started.
My headcannon is that majority of the calm and stoic men in genshin are actually really clingy when drunk.
Like, you're sitting on the edge of your mattress, waiting patiently in the dark, moonlit room for your boyfriend to return from work.
When suddenly the door swings open in an unusual manner. The echoing footsteps oddly sluggish despite the familiar rhythm.
"Babe? What took you so long?" You tease as your eyes shift towards the doorway, only to be greeted by your very drunk, messy haired boyfriend. his face is flushed a deep crimson, eyes barely open and glossy, but the moment they land on you, you can't help but notice how they practically sparkle.
Without saying another word, he quickly closes the distance with whatever energy he has left. Walking - and almost tripping - on his way to you at the edge of the bed. kneeling down when he's close enough before resting his head right on your lap. The heat of his flushed face lingering on your skin, along with his warm, uneven breaths.
His strong arms wrapping protectively around your waist as he snuggles closer, almost as if he were afraid you might disappear.
You shift slightly. "Hey-"
"Don't.." he cuts you off, voice rough and muffled by your legs.
"I'm sorry for staying out late... I drank too much..." He admits honestly, a certain rare vulnerability he only ever shows you seeping into his words. "don't leave..."
Carefully he looks up at you with tired, pleading eyes that completely shatters the whole stoic persona. "Stay...please." he mumbles.
And when you eventually reassure him that you're not going anywhere, a soft pleased hum escapes him. Resting his head back on your lap and holding you a little closer into the night.
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Lowk has been so long since I've written 🫤
Also why does my mind draw a blank when I think about men in genshin impact???? I can't think of any
A/n: Just a lil thing because I always wondered how the hell the traveller stayed on their travels for so long without losing their mind (Ik it's a game, but you know what I mean)
Your heart was racing in your chest, vision blurred as you watched Signora fall to the ground, like you had done a hundred times before. Your sword was about to fall limp from your hand, no longer being able to find the strength that kept the strong grip around it like you had all fight.
Then she had turned to you, the Raiden Shogun, and you felt as if your heart sank to your stomach. Your body was practically trembling where you stood.
Then you were free to go, you didn't hesitate then.
But that didn't last for long. Like she said, you had to go before she changed her mind. You supposed she was a just able to change it that quick because, before you even knew it, you turned to find her sword coming your way.
That was when you woke with a start, gasping for air, sweat making your hair stick to your face as you tried to come to grips with the reality of what was going on, instead of what your mind was trying to trick you with.
"Darling?" Your head shot to your side, and you were just about to summon your sword until you saw the family red hair in the dim room. "Hey, woah, it's just me. It's just me..."
You exhaled sharply, rubbing your face harshly before you slumped forwards, elbows resting on your knees before your hands remained over your face.
Diluc's hand awkwardly lingered over your shoulder, too afraid to actually touch you while you were still in this state. "<<Reader>>...? Was it a nightmare again?"
You barely nodded your head, then you heard the shifting that came from beside you as Diluc made his way to properly sit next to you. "Do you want to talk about it?"
You let out a scoff at that, "Everyone already knows everything I've done, it's all they talk about."
"They talk about the summarised, causality-free version." Diluc corrected, his hand moving to brush some of your hair out of your face before his hand rested on your shoulders. "And I don't want to hear about the stories about you, I want to hear what you've gone through."
You stayed silent for a few seconds, before you exhaled slowly.
"I could ask Adeline to make you tea?" Diluc offered, his voice softer than you had ever heard it before.
You shook your head. "I don't want to bother her this late at night."
"Then I'll make it for you."
You just shook your head again.
He thought for a few seconds, hand slipping down to the small of your back as he slowly started to rub it lightly. "Would you liked to go out for a walk, maybe have some fresh air?"
Then it was your go to think for a few seconds, before you eventually nodded slowly. "Yeah, I think that's a good idea."
After a sudden ambush from an enemy, he tells you to run. You're visionless.
But you never run—stepping forward, you shield his body with your own.
You're visionless.
(Not anymore.)
kinich, diluc, cyno ♡ gn!reader
warnings: graphic depictions of violence & injury, not proofread, no use of "[name]," cyno jokes in cyno's part
notes: Im actually a genius invokation tcg sweat. This is coming from a real place. Also cyno and kinich's pts. were written maniacally in one sitting when i say not proofread i really mean it please be warned...
The Night Warden War.
Kinich remembers one in particular—when the Abyss had taken on a new face, wearing the forms of the warriors' loved ones, with expressions so real and so palpable, it felt as if it were reunion.
At the time, Kinich only had one thought: how did "The Hill of Silent Crickets" end?
(At the time, there was not much room in his stomach for love. He could only afford water and food.)
"That's great, Kinich!" Ajaw exclaims, pixelated mouth scrunched into a jeering laugh, the sound devoid of mirth. "Keep making that face! Like you want to die! AHAHAHA!"
The Children of Echoes. With such narrow terrain, Kinich can feel the difference all throughout his limbs, the shortened length of his stride, the abrupt halt of his grappling hook as he slips in between the canopies, tumbling down, the adrenaline coursing all throughout his veins as chartreuse eyes dart to and fro.
Abyssal monsters. They surge from random points, beaten off by tribal warriors, reeking with dark fumes. Swinging from the sky, Kinich slams onto the cliffs with his claymore, slicing through monsters as if they weighed nothing.
(What could ever compare to the unfathomable heaviness of love?)
Despite the cacophony of noises, the roar of the monsters, the clash of the weapons—Kinich can hear a voice, its timbre distinct, its melody unable to be overdreamed. His figure pivots completely, racing through the mountainous terrain, swinging from his grappling hook as Ajaw's taunts fall remain unlistened to. Kinich can't hear a thing—his vision tunnels towards a barrage of abyssal manifestations, noticing a body shielding smaller ones behind it, lips parted in movement.
You.
Kinich could pick you—starry-eyed and all—out from the night sky if you did so much as ask.
The abyssal fumes lurch towards you, interrupted by the impact of a claymore, the weight of love vested into its wielded hand, Kinich's expression scrunched into a look unlike himself. His brows are furrowed vehemently, his chest heaving, lips curled downwards into a frown, the fervor most poignant in his eyes, blown wide, scanning over your figure as he looks back, letting Ajaw wreack havoc ahead.
"Are you alright?" he asks, his words uncharacteristically fast, tone devoid of his usual deadpan as he looks you over once, twice, thrice, before repeating the process, reassuring himself with the familiarity of your features, his frown shifting into parted lips, hanging agape.
"I'm fine," you respond. His gloved hands rub up and down the length of your arm, as if to pat you down for injuries, as if to soothe himself. Ajaw continues yelling ferociously behind him, and, after looking you over once more, Kinich nods, lips drawn into a thin line, expression betrayed only by the furrow of his brows as he regards you again.
"Run," is all he says. "Take the kids with you." He spares a glance towards the children you stood in front of, offering yourself before they could be touched by the abyss.
(The horrid, frantic idea creeps up on him—what if he had been a second later? What if he had been out on a job, unaware of what had been going on at the Children of Echoes? What if—)
There's no time for that.
Drawing his weapon once more, Kinich leaps into the heat of battle, the flame ever turning, the weight of love upon his shoulders, its heaviness an amalgamation of the stars, its lone gases accumulating into the enormity, untouchable. He fights because there are many things to be fighting for—Natlan, the future, you. He fights because he's afforded this, because there are some things in this world that are worth it, regardless of the cost.
The Night Warden War.
He supposes this incident isn't too far removed from what happened all those years ago. At the time, Kinich only had his mother. Now—he slices through more hilichurls, more mitachurls—now, he has you. The weight. It settles into its home, four chambers, a rhythmic beat.
Th-thump.
Then, he feels a presence creep up on his back. Already occupied by the front, Kinich's instincts tear from the current onslaught to duck and avoid whatever attack is hurling from behind—but, instead of being met with a bat, or an arrow, or the slam of a shield, he's met with a figure so familiar, it feels as though it tore from the safe confines of his chest, bursting through his ribs, manifesting in front of him. Tangible. You.
"Get back!" you yell, rushing towards him, arms outstretched, dragging him down by the shoulders, the figure of a monster looming over you from behind. Kinich releases his claymore, his dominant hand reaching to cover the back of neck, arm tracing over the expanse of your head, his eyes wide.
Th-thump. Disappear into him. Th-thump. Kinich feels the heartless casing of his ribs, seeing its true owner's mortality flash before its eyes, a gaping cavity left in its wake. Th-thump. He uses every ounce of strength he has to pull you over, to take this hit, to have a reason to keep fighting, to keep living.
He's too late. Kinich, ever the hunter, knows when some things are bound to happen—he knows prices, he knows costs and worthy deals. He'd trade his life for yours without a single thought. That, he thinks, is the simplest exchange there could ever be.
But yours for his own?
There's an impossible margin to cover.
Th-thump. Kinich has long known fear—despite knowing it's too late, despite knowing you'll be hit, he fights anyway. He scrunches his face so the fear won't cloud his vision, he furrows his brows so violently he can't feel anything else but the striking soreness of his chest and the feeling of your breaths against his neck. His arm tense as it curls around you, trying to cover all of your vital points, trying to preserve any last bit of meaning he has.
Th-thump.
The monster's fist; raised, like a hand, like a drunkard, like a ruin. It strikes a star.
Th-thump.
(The Hill of Silent Crickets.
(It's a draft his mother wrote, following a cricket hero, who, full of resentment, curled itself into the desolate ground of the Mare Jivari, using its final strength to lay a single egg. It ends there. Elder Leik did not think highly of the story, as its open ending left too much room for interpretation. Did life burst forth from the egg? Did the species fall?
(Kinich, if he were to ever meet his mother again, has always wanted to ask how she believed the story should end.
(Now that he's older, that fact still stands true. What's different, however, is that, even if the crickets had fell there, even if that last egg remained unhatched—Kinich believes that, truly, life exists everywhere. There will always be a reason to continue on. There will always be a reason to survive. There will always be meaning to living.
(He feels it most ardently in his heart.
(Th-thump.)
Electricity.
It erupts from the point of impact, where the monster's fist meets your back, and Kinich's eyes are painted purple as power bursts, its magnitude unfathomable, a force to be reckoned with. Unable to utter any word, Kinich watches, in sheer wonder, as a Vision descends from above, hovering above your figure, the power of Electro countering the abyss.
You don't seem surprised. Rather, you spare Kinich a glance, face adorned by that grin of yours, arms parting from his back to take the Vision in your hands, the electricity still resisting the forces as you pull him to his feet, your preferred weapon manifesting in your hand.
"Lucky!" you exclaim, channeling the element into your weapon, tearing through abyssal monsters as Kinich covers you from your blindspots, his senses attuned more to you than himself.
(Th-thump.
(Owner and heart; reunited.)
Sometimes, life can change in an instant.
It changed when you arrived, when your brightness resembled the break of dawn, when that smile of yours swept across your face, slipping in between the crevices of night, kissing the ruined ridges of his own.
It changed when the manor learned to fit two. It changed when shoes came in doubles, when chatter erupted from the dinner table, when a figure existed alongside another.
Diluc was always resistant to change. When the first instance happened, he felt the chill settle into his bones, the warmth from his Vision absent as he traveled through Teyvat alone, carmine eyes blown wide, adorned by fury, shoulders bearing the debts of a young man who learnd that this world was flawed in all of its brightest places.
He didn't want things to change—he wanted that manor to fit three forever, he wanted to believe in this guilt-ridden world, to forge ahead with the certainty that righteousness will always prevail.
But life learned to change again.
With the break of dawn, with the first rays of light, with the kiss of the sun, the spirit of fantasy, the radiance of a creature so ethereal—Diluc surrenders himself, head dipped, eyes, which once existed to gaze upon vengeance, fluttering shut. Change. Let it arrive.
But oh, not like this.
Diluc has long fought with love on the line. He fought for his father, he fought for justice, he fights for Mondstadt—but, ever since his departure from the Knights of Favonius, Diluc has seldom fought with others. It's easier to bear the burdening weight alone, when the only collateral is his own life, when the heaviness of his claymore needs only to vanquish evil and to protect himself.
But there it is, he thinks. The radiance. He can feel the ghost of a kiss across his skin, he can feel the tender light seep in between the scalding flames of his Vision, he can feel the reminder of dawn, the fact that hope exists, the fact that its radiance can be extinguished just as quickly and suddenly as it arrived.
Sometimes, life can change in an instant.
"Run!" Diluc shouts, voice shrouded in between the mechanical noises of Ruin Guards, stirring awake, his weapon drawn, infused with flames as he charges forward.
Never before has he seen so many Ruin Guards near the Winery; but Diluc has no time to mull over their origins, or why they've decided to show up now—all that matters is he serves as sufficient diversion, that he can provide you enough time to escape, to disappear into the vineyards and to not look back.
He forgot to tell you that too: Don't look. Just go.
Footsteps; the shift of the trees; the howl of the wind. The radiance dissipates, he can feel its absence most fervently on his unkissed skin, the scorch of heat so unlike the gentle warmth of the light. Still, relief finds him. Alone once more, Diluc fights, the only thing on the line being love and himself. That trade, he decides, is worth it—you ran, and that's all that matters to him.
Eradicating one Ruin Guard just leads to the next, their missiles an endless barrage, the flames of his power plummeting forth with no sense of direction nor wherewithal for what's next. All Diluc knows is that he must fight—for what's right, for love, for you—but also, that he must survive.
Sometimes, life can change in an instant.
Diluc wants to be there when it does. It's so easy to die; he learned that many years ago. But to feel the radiance kiss his skin once more means to survive, it means to live under the sun, to wait for dawn's break, to believe that extinguished flames can learn to ignite again. To be there for the change, to allow the blossoming trees to melt into bare branches, to crane his head in the direction of the fantastical spirit—Diluc will live.
He must. He has no other choice, really. As long as you're alive, changing the Winery, changing him—he will be there, too. Alive.
You ran, Diluc thinks.
So why is it that he can feel the radiance again?
The Ruin Guards' turn, their hands supporting their forms from behind as they lower themselves to the ground, core emanating a glow from various points of their centerpiece. Another myriad of missiles. Diluc feels the fangs of fear pierce the adrenaline, the warm sprout of blood blooming across his side as pain meets him on the ground. Hand still curled around his claymore, he readies himself to take the hit, flames infused into the metal, eyes narrowed as his brows furrow to the point of wrinkling the bridge of his nose.
Then, a kiss of light. He can feel it sweep across his face, the sound of footsteps, frantic, chasing through the ground as it grows louder and louder, stopping right in front of him.
Your silhouette—like a flag he'll brand himself with, like a statue he'll bow towards.
Carmine eyes blown wide; chest heaving; sweat layering his skin; hands tearing from his weapon as he reaches for your figure, the missiles erupting from the machine, his arms curled around your waist. Diluc uses every last bit of his strength to grab your form, to tug you behind him, his back facing the missiles as he closes his eyes, breathing you in, arms tightening as if you could disappear into his body, the vessel serving as your shield.
The radiance. He holds it close to him, amidst the barrage of missiles, amidst his certain doom. The radiance. Diluc spares you a final glance, hoping to catch a fragment of the light for himself—but he's met with your anguished expression: the downward curl of your lips, the furrow of your brows, the tears which gloss across your eyes. He wishes you'd never look this way again. He holds you tight and, truly, with all the love and the strength this world has to offer, he prays.
The radiance. He can hear the missiles slamming forth into a subject—his arms tighten around your figure, the ricochet of his heart threatening to burst through its rib prison and reach for you itself—but, he feels nothing. The radiance. He cranes his head over his shoulder, breath hitched, noticing an unfamiliar power, serving as a barrier between the two of you and the Ruin Guards.
"A shield?" he mutters, voice barely above a whisper. With confirmation that the Ruin Guards are at bay, he turns to you, gloved hands tracing all over your face—the bone of your cheek, the ridge of your brows, the curl of your lips—carmine eyes do you over multiple times, checking for injuries, scratches, anything. There's nothing. He sighs a shaky breath. You're alright. That's all that matters to him.
Then, he notices a faint glow in your hand.
A Geo Vision.
"Does this mean I should go to Liyue and thank Morax?" you ask, tossing the Vision up in the air, catching it with that same hand. The golden glow—it illuminates your skin, the amber symbol reverbrating, the Mondstadt case sprouting from the center like wings beating home.
Diluc brushes his knuckles over your face, his brows furrowed, bottom lip pursed. Only you could ever joke at a time like this. He can hear the whir of the Ruin Guards once more—there's no time to talk, but as he stands, both hands reaching for his weapon, he manages the most subtlest of smiles, more relieved than anything.
He told you to run.
The radiance. He can feel it behind him now, the surge of the land, the might of a power so unlike his own, yet familiar because of the owner. The radiance. He rushes forth, and though your footsteps don't accompany him, there are spikes bursting forth from the ground, blocking any onslaught of attacks, serving to bolster him whenever he needs it.
The radiance.
He told you to run—but love has always been about looking back.
(Sometimes, life can change in an instant.
(Chest heaving, claymore stabbed into the dirt, Diluc cranes his head over his shoulder, mouth hanging slightly agape. With a limp, he rushes towards you, wincing at the pain yet its phantom never once holding him back.
("Are you alright?" you ask, meeting him in the middle, gaze fixating on the largest of his wounds. Diluc doesn't say anything in response; his carmine eyes trace all over your figure, long familiar with the sight, yet reacquainting himself with you again. A Geo Vision. Its pulsating flow reflects onto your face and he sighs, carmine eyes looking back at it once, twice, thrice.
("Please," Diluc whispers, thumb rubbing over your face, "please don't ever do that again."
("Even though I just got a sick new Vision?" you reply.
(Diluc manages the faintest of smiles, the curl tugging at his lips, seeping through the crevices, darkness broken by the arrival of dawn.
("Yes," he mutters, burying his head into the curve of your shoulder, skin against cloth, trying to weave himself into its threads. "Yes, even then.")
Cyno often finds himself impressed by your tenacity.
Opting to do research in the desert despite despising its conditions, studying the effects of such harsh climate when you yourself loathe its heat—truly, your thirst for knowledge (and water) knows no bounds.
You're not researching anything which warrants the General Mahamatra's surveillance, so, just as "Cyno"—and as far as, "Cy Knows"—he offered to accompany you. The desert, even for Sumeru natives, is a selfish place. Without proper preparation and knowledge, even the most skilled adventurers may meet their doom. For you, however, there's more than just preparation and an understanding of the landscape that's required. It's protection.
Protection.
Cyno lives as a protector. As the General Mahamatra, Cyno serves to protect the public from the safety of scholars gone rogue, too far-driven by the desire to do the unthinkable with no regard for public safety. And, as Cyno, he serves to protect you. From wherever you end up, or whatever it is your impressive tenacity lands you.
"Are you seriously lighting a bonfire?" you ask, watching him gather various shrubs into a pile, sharpening two rocks with simple precision. "In this heat?"
"When night falls, the desert becomes surprisingly cold," he responds.
"Oh, I thought you just wanted a light source for a game of TCG."
Cyno glances up from his spot on the floor, visible eye blown wide, expression wholly anticipatory as he asks, words quick, almost slurring together, "Up for a game?"
"I don't have my deck with me," you state.
"I have an extra," Cyno counters.
"I think you're an addict."
He ignores your remark.
"I built a new deck based on the new set which dropped recently Usually, I'm not a big fan of the Lunar-Charged mechanic, but in this recent meta, it's impossible to ignore. It's difficult to counter, and it forces you to play cards at the expense of using up your resources."
"Oh my Lesser Lor—"
"Care for a game?" he asks again.
"You can't be serious."
He blinks. "I am quite the sir-ious person."
You blink. He blinks. You blink again. He blinks again. Silence.
Then, Cyno's expression steels over, the ease of his lips contorting into a slight frown as he glances over his shoulder, sharpened rocks coming to a halt, his brows furrowing slightly as he stares into a horizon you can't quite make out.
"Is there something—" you start, but are interrupted by the raise of his hand, a gesture of silence. You listen, crouching closer to the ground, the flames of the bonfire illuminating your face as the pinkish sky reveals the first glimpses of the moon.
Drawing his spear, Cyno rises to his feet, fingers curling around the hilt, his countenance unyielding as he approaches a sight you can't see.
"Reveal yourself," he states, voice cutting through the air, his tone devoid of mirth.
You can only hear the crackles of flames. But Cyno lurches forth, spear in hand, slamming the blunt end into what looks to be a person. Then, more figures emerge, their clothes belonging to the Eremites.
"Get the researcher!"
Protection.
Within an instant, Cyno is by your side, dominant hand pointing his spear towards the rogue mercenaries while the other is positioned to cover you, outstretched, his figure shielding yours. He fends off the mercenaries with ease, the movements of his spear quick and defined, the harsh terrain of the desert not once posing him any issue.
But, while he fights, you notice a vial emitting frost, its potency vibrant. With the fingers of an Eremite curling around its cap, you watch, in utter horror, as they hurl the creation towards the center of the battle. Cyno.
You rush forward without much regard nor wherewithal for anything else.
Cyno often finds himself impressed by your tenacity.
When it leads you to trouble, he'll be there. When it leads you to unexpected discoveries, he'll be there. When it leads you to him, asking him to accompany you on a desert expedition, he'll be there. Cyno serves to protect. You are, of course, one of the most important subjects.
Feeling your movement, Cyno's eyes grow wide, his teeth gritting violently as he rushes to stop you from reaching for him, to stop you from running where he cannot follow. A frost potion. To be hit with such wildly different temperatures in a desert would undoubtedly lead to shock—but Cyno believes that whatever frostbite feels like in unthinkable heat is better than witnessing it on the subject of his failed protection. You.
(What are you thinking? How could you even conceive such a foolish plan? Why are you doing this?)
(It has always been about you.)
"Fall back!" he yells, piercing through the growing crowd of mercenaries, trying to reach you.
You don't; that reckless tenacity of yours—Cyno tears through the Eremites, chest heaving ferociously, nails digging into his palms as he sprints towards you—that reckless tenacity of yours will be the death of him.
Just as the vial explodes, oozing out frost, blooming across your skin, there's a flash, a bright light emitting from the point of impact, its appearance followed by the sound of an intense boom! Shielding his eye from the light, Cyno remains unblinking, mouth hanging slightly agape as you emerge from the pinnacle, head downcast.
Despite the blinding colors, Cyno continues running, squinting, unable to see anything but the fact that you're there. You're walking. You're alive. He runs and he doesn't quite know what he's running towards—just the simple and unadulterated fact that it's you.
Alive.
Chest heaving, sweat trickling down the side of his face, Cyno lowers his hand and he stares.
A Vision. Pyro. It falls into your hands so simply, it feels as though it was carved to fit into your palm from the beginning.
"Just like that?" you ask, almost in awe, weighing the power by raising your hand up, then lowering it in rapid succession. Despite the thunderous race of his heart, the groans of the fallen mercenaries behind him, the creep of footsteps darting towards him from behind—
You launch a ball of fire past his face, narrowly missing his cheek. More groans from a now-scorched Eremite erupts from behind him. Cyno doesn't look back; he just sighs, unable to contain the relief which etches all over his expressions, most fervently in the melting of his visible eye.
"Just like that," he mutters, meeting your figure with his own, hand outstretched as he examines you for any sign of injury.
"Great," you reply. "I would've preferred Hydro since we're here, though."
"Is that what you say after receiving a divine favor?"
"A real favor would've been Hydro."
"Excess desire will always lead to disaster."
(How ironic of him to speak of desire in front of its most ardent subject.)
When Y/n stirred awake, moderately disoriented, the sun was already up. She dressed and made her way downstairs. The scent of fresh bread and tea wafted to her.
Diluc sat at the dining table, prim and proper as if he had been awake for hours. A cup of tea rested untouched near his hand as he looked through papers.
“I’m surprised you didn’t leave, for work” she said, taking the chair across from him. He strikes as the guy who wakes at the crack of dawn to go do business.
Diluc glanced up from the paper in his hand. “Adelinde suggested I stay,” he replied evenly. "Besides, it would be rude to make you have breakfast alone on the first day.”
Y/n turned her head toward the kitchen, where Adelinde was very much within earshot. There was a presence around her that said— You’re welcome.
“So,” she said, picking up an empty cup just to have something to do with her hands, “we’re being supervised.”
“Subtly, yes,” Diluc said, reaching for the teapot and pouring her a cup. “We should establish expectations,” he said, as he set the pot down.
Y/n straightened slightly. “Right. Yes.”
“Publicly,” he continued, “we maintain the appearance of a proper marriage. We avoid behavior that would invite unnecessary questions.”
“Of course. That is the plan,” she said. "Anything else?"
"Do not involve yourself with my work," he added, his crimson gaze meeting hers. There was no malice in his tone only practicality. "And I won't bother you with yours."
Y/n smiled faintly, understanding immediately. "Understood," she replied.
“Other than that we continue as we have been,” he said picking up a toast.
She was about to agree. Then another thought arrived. "What about PDA?”
Diluc stilled mid motion in the process of placing the toast on his plate and looked at her.
“Public displays of affection,” she clarified.
“I know what it means.”
“Then…” She tilted her head. “How do we initiate it?”
Diluc stared at her long enough that she briefly wondered if he had stopped functioning.
“Do we have to?” he finally said.
She couldn't help laughing. “Well, married couples generally don't look like coworkers discussing marriage agendas.”
“We already hold conversations walk side by side.”
“Yes.”
“We're having breakfast together,” he pointed.
“Yes.”
“…Is that insufficient?”
Y/n smiled. “A little.”
Diluc considered this seriously. "What do you suggest we do?"
She began counting on her fingers. “Walking side by side.”
"I mentioned that—"
“Sometimes closer,” she added. “Occasionally holding hands.”
“…Very well.” He nodded as if approving a business proposal.
“And…” Y/n tapped her cheek. “…Perhaps an arm around the shoulder or a peck on the cheeks?”
"It’s not necessary to go out of your way to keep me company," he stated.
"We’ll be living under the same roof," Y/n said, leaning slightly forward. "It wouldn’t hurt to spend time together."
Diluc regarded her for a moment, then, finally, a small, almost imperceptible nod. "I'll try my best," he said.
Y/n set her cup down, studying Diluc for a moment before letting out a small breath, something between a sigh and a laugh. “Alright then, looking forward to working with you… dear husband.” She extended her hand across the table.
Diluc observed her extended hand for a moment before reaching out to take it. “As am I… wife. Now if you will excuse me, I need to finish some paperwork so I'll leave you to—"
Adeline approached just as he was about to get up. “Master Diluc,” she said.
Diluc glanced up. “Yes?”
Adelinde smiled politely. “The lady of the house should be familiar with the estate.”
“That she should...” he said skeptically.
Adelinde continued. “As such, I believe you should give Lady Y/n a tour of Dawn Winery.”
“It's fine a staff member could do this,” Y/n objected. "Diluc mentioned he had paperwork to do."
"It has already been dealt with by Elzar so Master Diluc's schedule for the morning is completely free," Adeline smiled at her.
"I had an appointment with a merchant from Liuye," he continued.
"It has been rescheduled to a later date."
"I was not informed of this."
"This came a few moments ago," Adelinde mentioned without missing a beat. That implied the discussion was over.
Diluc had a feeling that even if he were to make up work it would be mysteriously assigned to someone else or rescheduled so he had no choice but to accept the small vacation.
Y/n hid a smile behind her cup. Even the great Master Diluc seemed helpless against Adeline.
—
They were walking through the long corridors with polished wood floors in the midst of the tour. Y/n looked at the empty walls. She didn't see any portraits as most aristocrats had lining their corridors.
They kept walking.
They went through the guest rooms. The warehouse. A sitting room no one seemed to actually sit in.
"Don't you have any secret entrances or dungeons or anything?" she finally said as they walked to the other corner of the building.
"This is a winery. A dungeon would be a waste of space," Diluc said thinking nothing of it.
"Secret entrances then?" she pressed on.
"We have the back door if you wish to leave discreetly," he mentioned.
"That's just a normal back door," she said with a disappointed sigh. "You sound pretty familiar with it," she noticed how he casually mentioned that.
"I am not," he added a bit too quickly. "As you said, it's just a normal back door."
Before she could say anything else, they stopped before a pair of carved wooden doors. Diluc pushed them open revealing the library.
Y/n stopped dead. “…Oh.”
Rows of tall shelves with rolling ladders stretched upward. The familiar smell of pages both old and new and cedar filled the air. Her eyes skimmed through the shelves—
Books with old leather spines, bound journals, history texts, poetry, alchemy, trade ledgers etc. This is nothing grand like the house of Daena, rather more smaller yet cozier.
Her eyes lit instantly. “You got a big collection of books!”
There was actual unfiltered, childlike delight in her voice that he hadn't heard in years. “Diluc...” She slowly turned in a circle. “You’ve been hiding this!”
“I was not aware it required announcing. Besides, these belonged to my late father,” he said in a quiet tone. More like it felt distant.
She turned to face him.
“I considered giving many of them away,” he began. “They occupied unnecessary space.”
Y/n glanced back at the shelves. Then at him.
“But Adelinde insisted we keep them.”
……
Y/n slowly stepped toward one shelf, fingers brushing spines reverently. “…I’m glad she did.”
“Why?” he watched her with curiosity.
She looked around with a small smile. “Because books are strange.”
That was not the answer he expected.
“They outlive people,” she continued, fingers moved across another. “And somehow still keep little pieces of them.” Pieces of them in the broken spine, wrinkled pages, pencil marks from being studied through the ages. Books held history, not the literal text but the way they were handled by their reader.
She turned toward him. “… then this isn’t just storage.” Her gaze swept the room. “It’s memory.”
Diluc’s gaze moved across the towering shelves. “It’s just unnecessary things that bind us to the past,” he said.
She studied the careful flatness in his voice. He sounded so indifferent.
She pulled a book from a nearby shelf and flipped it open. It had worn edges and a pressed grapevine leaf, brittle with age sat between two pages.
Diluc’s eyes flicked downward. “My father used to leave bookmarks that way.”
She noticed the slight shift in posture, the silence around him that had gone heavier. He did not want her to press. So she let the subject drift.
“Can I borrow the books?” she asked, a strategic retreat disguised as a simple question.
“Since you’ll be living here,” he began, “do as you please.”
“That sounded suspiciously welcoming.”
"Isn't that the purpose of this trip? To help you get accustomed to life here," he stated.
She turned another book over. She paused as she scanned the first page. Inside the cover there was small handwritten notes in sharp, neat ink. Likely his father’s.
Her fingers gentled against the page. “…These are annotated.”
“I could fetch you new ones.”
“I don't have problem with it," she swiftly said. She had read books in even worse condition in the Akademiya. "It's just… Are you sure?” she said carefully.
Diluc’s eyes rested briefly on the writing. “If I objected,” he said evenly, “I would not have offered.”
Y/n smiled. “Then I’ll take care of them.”
“You needn’t ask permission for everything,” he said, reminding her that she lived here from now on.
“…Right.”
Y/n looked toward the nearest chair which looked very inviting. Then toward the towering books. Then toward Diluc. “Since it'll take a while to see the library… how about we end this tour here?” she said.
“You have yet to see the vineyard. Besides, the library isn't going anywhere.”
Y/n narrowed her eyes. “I have already seen grapes hanging around the winery.”
“That was the southern vineyard,” he said, reaching for the doorknob and pulling it open.
“There are multiple vineyards?”
“This is a winery,” he said waiting for her to move.
That was solid logic. “…I feel like I’ve learned enough estate-related information for one day.”
They stepped outside into the crisp morning air, vineyards stretching wide beneath the sun. Workers moved between them collecting harvest, trimming, checking clusters, carrying baskets.
Diluc walked beside her. “This is the northern vineyard,” he said. “Most of our primary harvest comes from here.”
Y/n shaded her eyes, glancing over the rows. “…That is a lot of grapes. …Do the grapes here differ emotionally from the southern ones?”
“Yes. They differ by terrain, exposure, and cultivation cycle.”
Y/n lowered her voice noticing curious glances at them. “They’re watching.”
“I noticed.”
“Should we pretend to be more married?” she whispered.
Diluc gave a a side eyed glance. “What does that entail?”
She folded her arms, pretending to think. “Possibly smiling at each other. Standing scandalously close. Perhaps discussing grapes with inappropriate emotional intimacy. Affection would serve the purpose.”
“…I see.”
One older vineyard worker approached with a small wooden basket, smiling warmly.
“My lady.” He bowed his head slightly. “Would you like to try some fresh grapes?” he offered.
“I would love to—”
Diluc almost sighed. He noticed she showed far more enthusiasm than she had shown before she was dragged outside.
The worker chuckled and held out a cluster of deep purple fresh grapes.
Y/n took one grape and bit into one.
A sweet and rich flavor filled her mouth. 'Freshly plucked grapes are the best!' she thought. “These are really good. You must work really hard to grow them.”
The worker beamed. “We’re proud of them, my lady. Take as much as you want. These are going straight to the winery.”
Y/n took another. Then another, entirely abandoning dignity.
"I suggest you go easy on them lest you might fall sick," Diluc told her as he took the basket from his employee muttering, "I'll take it from here."
Y/n acknowledged it was rude to ignore her husband for a while because of fresh grapes. She reached for another grape. Then held it out toward him.
“Try one—”
The workers nearby subtly slowed trying not to stare.
Diluc looked at the offered grape. Then at his occupied hand. Then at her expectant expression. He decided he shouldn't decline her in front of the employees so he leaned slightly forward and took it into his mouth without using his hands—
There was cricket chirping silence around them….
The workers suddenly found pruning techniques extremely interesting.
Y/n blinked, caught off guard. She could feel the warmth of his lips when it brushed the tips of her fingers. When she offered him one she didn't expect him to directly take it from her hand— 'oh right… his hands are occupied.' She just realized.
Diluc, on the hand, was entirely composed as he chewed on it. “…They’re ripe.”
Y/n narrowed her eyes as she popped another grape into her mouth. “Your entire estate is going to think we’re in love by lunch.”
“Isn’t that what we’re aiming at?” Diluc stated simply as if it was obvious.
Y/n stopped a grape halfway to her mouth. “…Excuse me?”
“Our marriage is public," he said, voice lowering slightly so that only she could hear. "We ought to maintain the illusion."
She closed her mouth popping the grape in her mouth. “That just sounded like you were flirting.”
“As you mentioned earlier, if people believe we are affectionate,” he said, “it serves the purpose.”
Y/n smirked. Even though they've been together for less than a week Diluc could tell it was the 'up to no good' kind of smirk.
“…Then we should be convincing.”
“What do you mean?” he said with suspicion.
She stepped closer. "Well,” she said thoughtfully, “if we’re aiming for believable devotion, perhaps we should stop looking like two diplomats touring.”
Then she lightly looped her hand through his arm. A perfectly respectable gesture between spouses.
“There,” she said. “Now we look the part.”
She felt Diluc go still. He looked down briefly at her hand resting against his sleeve. "This feels excessive—"
But he himself did not make an effort to move it.
"Actions speaks louder than words my darling," she emphasized. "Shall we get going?"
"We shall."
The next morning, sunlight spilled in long gold bands through the tall windows of Dawn Winery.
Y/n’s room had become a battlefield.
Books stacked on chairs. Books on the floor. Books on the windowsill. Half-open crates. And one unstable tower stood beside her bed threatening to fall any moment.
Y/n crouched near a wooden crate, sorting books into rough piles.
“No, not there…” She muttered to herself. “This one near the window…” Then shifted two stacks. “Why do I own three dictionaries?”
There was a soft knock at the door. Then Adelinde stepped inside. She surveyed the room.
“Do you need assistance, my lady?” she asked glancing toward the piles with a worried look. “That is quite a lot of books,” her eyes fixed on the unstable tower.
Y/n balanced two volumes under one arm. “It’s alright—” She began with a faint smile. “Helps me find things if I do it myself.”
Just as she said that the tower bend and the stack of books fell to the floor making an even greater mess.
"Ughh, now I have to arrange them again—" she said frustrated.
Adelinde stepped into the room. "How about we pile them neatly first and then you arrange them according to the titles?"
"Thank you," she said looking at her savior gratefully.
“It's no trouble at all, my lady.”
She was done arranging the room quickly after Adeline helped her sort through stuff. "Now gotta take these to the library," she looked at a box full of heavy books.
"I'll take them there—" Adeline began but she cut her off.
"You've helped enough. This is the easy work. I'll take them," she said putting one box on top of another. She exhaled as she picked the box because instead of making multiple trips like a reasonable person, she decided to carry them all in one go.
"My Lady, you shouldn't take them all at once," Adeline protested.
But Y/n paid no heed. "It'll be quicker this way," she said trying her best to hide that boxes were in fact heavier than she thought they'd be.
Adeline could only watch helplessly as she left the room. She sighed, her stubbornness reminding her of a certain someone.
Y/n hauled the boxes down the corridor toward the library alternating between moving, dragging and adjusting her grip.
She heard another pair of footsteps approach. It stopped in front of her and her view cleared as both of the boxes got taken from her.
Diluc, who had been watching her struggle stepped forward without a word and took the boxes from her hands lifting it with ease.
“I had this—” she objected slightly offended he swooped in like that.
"You're only wasting your time dragging this. It would be quicker if you asked for help these are heavy—" Then, with the exact emotional neutrality he asked, “Are they going into the library?”
“Yes, But— I didn’t ask for help,” she said trying to take at least one of the box back from him.
Diluc turned and started towards the library. “It'll be quicker if I carry it.”
Y/n sighed and had no choice but to follow him into the library. She was adamant on carrying them herself. And he just simply inserted himself into her stubbornness.
“Here?” he motioned at a space near the shelves.
Y/n folded her arms. “…Left side,” she said. Since he offered to help she decided to make the most of it.
He put the box down and dusted his hands.
“Usually,” she began, “people ask before confiscating furniture from someone.”
“I did ask,” he stated, dusting his gloved hands.
“You took it and then asked where to place it,” she reminded.
Diluc considered this seriously. “I may have skipped a step. I'll make sure to ask next time."
Y/n stared at him for the completely serious answer. Then laughed in amusement. "Regardless, thanks for the help. I can take it from here," she turned to the shelves. “Unless you’re volunteering.”
"I have some errands to run," he said. "But if you ask, the maids would be happy to help."
He is no fun to tease. Y/n moved toward the shelf where she meant to organize them. "Nah, it's fine."
She stopped what she was about to do and looked again.
The shelf contained empty spaces. Not just random gaps of missing books. A whole shelf was missing books as if it had been cleared with purpose. That had not been there yesterday. She was sure she saw all shelves filled with books until yesterday.
She stared for a moment before slowly turning to Diluc with a confused expression.
Diluc noticed immediately. “I had the maids clear out some space,” he explained.
“You had the maids clear this out before I even asked,” she repeated, moved by his thoughtful act.
“Yes, since you looked visibly excited on your first visit here," he said as if it was the most obvious thing anyone would notice and act on. "I assumed you'd use the library. Unless you prefer to keep your books elsewhere.”
She grabbed his hand with both of hers, her eyes practically sparkling. "I would love to utilize this space!" There is no way she's giving up on free space to store her books.
Diluc on the other hand looked down at her with confusion laced in his features. Understandable, considering he has yet to discover her obsession with books.
"Not sure if you noticed but that's a lot of room," she observed letting go of his hand.
"You are a scholar. I assumed you'd have a lot of books."
True that if you combine all books in her possession, it'll fill out ten whole shelves. Fortunately most of them are at her home in Sumeru.
"I might fill the whole shelf with corny novels," she joked with a smirk.
"As I said, you're free to do that. You can also have additional space cleared out," he turned to the door. "I'll be taking my leave then."
He closed the door behind him as he left.
She stood at the center of the library staring at the carved wooden door for a moment before looking away. She was touched but a little annoyed. This is exactly the kind of man she preferred— one who would tell her to keep as many books as she could in their home…
Let's be honest here— Kaveh, after tripping over a scattered pile and falling face flat on the floor, once joked she'd have a hard time getting married because of the amount of books she collects. According to the blonde, 'Where would your husband even sleep with all these books in the house!' Back at Sumeru she ran out of additional shelf space and had to keep them stacked on the floor. Some of her collection even made it inside Alhaitham's house, which the scribe was not pleased about. He had no choice but to keep them because Kaveh picked the novels she left laying around the house and put them in their shared shelf. In his defense, the novels looked too aesthetic to not have decorated their boring shelf with. Alhaitham's sure Kaveh secretly told her to supply him novels just to spite him.
It took her quite a while to arrange the shelf. She even took a lunch break in the middle when Adeline called her down. It was mainly because she struggled to decide whether to arrange the novels section according to alphabetical order or their aesthetic…
She stretched her arms as she walked through the corridors as she left the library. Movement below in the courtyard caught the corner of her eye. She paused in her steps and peeked out—
There stood Diluc near the stone path by the vineyard slopes with an arm raised. Perched on his gloved forearm stood a majestic falcon.
Y/n immediately abandoned all responsibilities and headed downstairs.
"Is he yours?" her voice came from behind him.
Both Diluc and the falcon jumped in surprise.
The falcon gave a sharp flap of its wings. Diluc whipped his head to her. He didn't even hear her approach him…
The falcon tilted its head at her and shuffled once on Diluc’s arm watching her carefully.
Diluc steadied the bird. “Yes,” he said. “It's is mine.”
She slowly stepped closer careful not to startle it. Her eyes lit with unmistakable fascination. "…beautiful.”
The falcon blinked. Then puffed slightly like he agreed.
Y/n clasped her hands behind her back, very pointedly not staring at Diluc’s arm. She really wanted ask him if she could hold it but decided against it in case the birds not a fan of strangers.
Diluc glanced sideways at her. Then followed her gaze fixed on the bird. Perceptive as always, he offered, “Would you like to hold the bird?”
"Can I?" She said her eyes practically sparkling.
After she strapped on a leather glove, she raised her arm.
"Excuse me," Diluc said as he gently took her forearm adjusting it carefully. “Keep it level and do not jerk your arm she's harmless.”
“She?” she said just as he brought the bird towards her extended arm.
“Yes.”
Y/n slowly looked at the falcon that hopped to her, talons settling carefully onto the glove.
“You gave me a lady bird without warning?”
Diluc stared speechless.“Would warning have changed anything?”
"It's not nesting season is it?" she said recalling female falcons get more aggressive during this time.
"It's not."
“I'll be fine then—” she said more to herself.
The bird flexed its wings for a second then went still.
Y/n gasped happily at the bird sitting on her arm. “Oh.”
Diluc lowered his arm that was hovering around her in case she had a change of mind and decided to hand it back.
The falcon shifted and leaned forward to gently nudge her shoulder with her beak.
Y/n immediately stiffened. She leaned her head back as far as she could to keep the bird from reaching her head. "Is this normal?" She asked without looking away from the bird, worried she might peck her with her beak if she did.
Diluc observed the interaction with a straight face. "Are you... afraid of birds?"
Y/n looked scandalized— at least her voice indicated she was because her body language looked like she was trying not to get eaten. "What?! Noo. It's just I'm not used to big birds."
Diluc’s mouth twitched slightly in amusement. He lifted a hand, stroking the falcon lightly along its neck. “It is fine,” he said. “Do not worry.”
“We got vultures in the desert,” Y/n muttered. “Not exactly people-friendly.”
Diluc arched a brow. “I am not sure people would place them under the same category as falcons.”
Y/n frowned and stated, “They both fly.”
“All birds do—”
“Penguins don't—” she interrupted. "Besides although not under the same family, boths got exceptional vision, carnivorous diet and… beaks."
The falcon turned her head making a noise and stared directly at Diluc as if participating in the conversation.
Y/n lifted her free hand slightly with a victorious look. “See?”
Diluc looked between her and the falcon. He never imagined he'd get outnumbered by his wife and pet bird. Then again he never imagined he would be getting married in the first place.
She immediately lost the victorious grin when the falcon stepped higher up her arm.
She froze. “Diluc.”
“Yes.”
“…Why is she taller now?”
Diluc finally exhaled something that sounded suspiciously close to a laugh. “She likes you.”
The falcon pecked her hair, taking a few strands into its beak.
"What does eating someone's hair translate to in bird language?" she said helplessly asking for help with her eyes.
Diluc stepped forward— one hand steadied the bird while the other gently pulled her hair free. "As I said, she likes you." The falcon was returned to his arm.
"Does she eat your hair too?" she said smoothing her hair down.
He stayed suspiciously quiet.
Y/n stared at him with a straight face that said, 'just be honest it won't hurt me.'
“No," he said under the scrutinity of her gaze. “She has never attempted to eat my hair.”
She leaned forward, raising a hand to pet the birds head which it graciously accepted. “Favoritism…” she muttered.
Then she turned to her heel and left.
Diluc and his bird watched her retreating back. The feathered creature looked at Diluc reached her neck out and pulled at his ponytail. "Now you decide to change your diet," he said freeing his hair from the birds grasp.
Y/n has been cooped up in her room for three straight days, vanished behind paperwork.
There were open books thrown across her bed, loose parchment strewn around.
She sat hunched over another paper by her desk, muttering to herself as she tapped the desk with her ink stained fingers. “Cross-reference the desert alkaloids… compare drying methods… rewrite section four because what the fuck is this…”
There was a knock at the door echoing through the room over the sound of pen scratching over paper.
She didn’t look up. “Come in.”
Adeline stepped inside and paused to survey the condition.
Y/n was still writing, stray strands of her loosely tied hair fell across her forehead. She looked like someone who's likely forgotten what sunlight looked like.
“Lady Y/n.”
“Mm?”
“How long has it been since you left this room?”
Y/n stopped what she was doing and looked around before eyes finally landing on Adeline. “…Yesterday?”
Adeline said nothing, which was infinitely worse than speaking.
Y/n slowly lowered her pen. “…Day before yesterday?”
“It has been three days.”
There was a moment of silence before she finally spoke. "If I have water, I can survive a month locked in."
“You are pale,” Adeline said. “You keep skipping lunch. And Hillie informed me you were holding dirt when you thanked her for bringing you breakfast.”
"Fungi remains—" she corrected.
“Its not healthy to stay cooped up like this, my Lady. I suggest you take a walk go find Master Diluc at the tavern.”
"He must be busy—"
"He's working at Angel's share today and should be done for lunch break," Adeline insisted.
“…Am I being exiled?” she said putting away the paper she was holding.
“No.”
So an hour later, she was dressed properly and was reluctantly escorted outside the door by Adeline incase she made a beeline for the library.
She headed for the city of Mondstadt.
She passed through the city gates and followed the path towards Angel’s Share.
She was met with the smell of drinks, the sound of glasses clinking as soon as she stepped through the door of the lively tavern.
She easily spotted the red head behind the counter wiping a glass and approached.
"What are you doing here?" Diluc asked, pausing slightly as he noticed her approach.
She stopped in front of the counter and said mock scandalously. "Is that a way to greet your wife?"
A nearby patron nearly choked on his drink overhearing her.
Diluc threw a soul boring blank glare his way. He excused himself and moved away from the counter to give them some privacy.
Y/n slid onto a stool across from him resting her chin on her hand with deliberate elegance. Which lost some force because she almost bumped her knee against the counter.
Diluc let out a quiet sigh. "Never mind. Did you need something?" he asked, setting the glass down with a soft clink.
“I was exiled.”
This earned her an eyebrow raise.
“Adeline sent me outside claiming I needed to touch grass,” she elaborated.
He knew this was not how Adeline carried the conversation but got the picture regardless. "She wouldn't have done that if it weren't serious. "
“Support your wife.” Y/n frowned.
"She's sent me out of the house before when I have been unhealthily occupied with work before—" he contributed.
"You traitor! You should've warned me!" she leaned closer and whisper yelled. "I would've taken the papers outside had I known this was coming!"
"Sometimes, things happen for the best reasons," he comforted.
"Maybe you're right. I can have a drink now—" she recovered quickly from the sorrow of being apart from her research. "Give me the strongest you got—"
Diluc raised an eyebrow,"I don't look forward to dealing with your drunken state."
"You deal with drunkards everyday," she motioned the bar.
"It's still too early and it's my responsibility to ensure you reach home safe," he said reaching for the shelf to pick a bottle.
"I can handle alcohol just fine," she waved nonchalantly.
He poured her a glass with a look that said he clearly did not believe her. "Start with something lighter."
She had no choice but to accept it. "Aren’t you going to have one?"
"No. I don’t drink."
"You own a bar…"
"Doesn't mean I have to drink alcohol," he stated.
'Is it because he's a lightweight and a messy drunk?' she wondered. She leaned forward inches away from him, "Don't worry. When you drink at the winery, I'll keep your secret safe with me," she said empathetically. She has seen students from the Akademiya do crazy shit back at the tavern in Sumeru before.
"What?" he had no idea what she was talking about.
………
She watched him work— sleeves rolled to his elbow, coat discarded as she enjoyed her drink. She has to admit he looked quite pleasing to the eye. Who would say he used to be covered in mud and dirt most of the time when they were children.
"If you're done, shouldn't you get going?" Diluc's voice cut through her thoughts. "I thought you had journals to read through."
"I don't think Adeline would be pleased to see me back so soon," she said.
"Master Diluc," came a cheerful voice. "congratulations on getting married," Venti appearing out of nowhere like a gust of wind, leaned slightly over the bar with a grin. "Won’t you introduce us to the pretty lady?"
“This is my wife, Y/n," he motioned as she gave a slight wave Venti's way.
“Well, Lady Y/n, congratulations. Never thought we’d see the day Master Diluc married.”
Several nearby patrons nodded enthusiastically.
One even muttered. “I lost money over it.”
“…There were bets on Diluc's love life?” she asked looking at the corner the voice came from.
“There are always bets,” the guy replied. "I bet he'd always stay married to his business."
Diluc looked very unimpressed at that statement.
Y/n laughed softly.
“So how did you manage it, Lady Y/n?” Venti said.
“…Manage what?”
“To marry him.”
The tavern collectively leaned in extremely invested in hearing how the most eligible bachelor of Mondstadt got married right under their noses.
Y/n looked toward Diluc. Then back at the crowd and set down her drink with grave seriousness and folded her hands atop the counter. “As many great tragedies begin, I was in Sumeru.”
Venti and several patrons leaned closer.
Even the six fingers Jose stopped pretending to tune his lyre.
“I had not slept properly in three days,” Y/n continued. “I was surviving entirely on coffee and sheer willpower. Anyway here I was, wandering the marketplace after an argument with a scholar who described my research as ‘overly ambitious.’”
She paused dramatically. “Which was rude. Accurate, perhaps. But rude.”
Venti and a bunch of customers nodded sympathetically.
“And then,” Y/n said, lowering her voice, “disaster struck.”
The tavern leaned in.
“I dropped my papers.”
There was silence for a moment before Venti spoke, “…That’s the disaster?”
“You’ve clearly never lost forty pages of annotated medicinal papers to desert wind. The winds were mocking me that day—” she said without even second guessing the statement. “And through the chaos,” Y/n continued, “an old familiar face appeared.”
Everyone’s eyes slowly turned toward Diluc.
Who was still polishing a glass with the exhausted patience knowing clearly well this is all made up.
“He helped me gather every single page.”
One patron smiled. “That’s actually sweet.”
“He handed back my papers,” she said, “and then criticized my organizational methods.’”
Several people burst out laughing immediately.
"What happened next?" Venti asked eagerly.
"We got tea— aaand you know how it ends,” she concluded clapping her hands together. Then she picked up her drink and took a sip nodded firmly. She had a feeling she reached the limit of Diluc's patience so if she said anything more he might kick her out of the tavern.
Diluc on the other hand, pinched the bridge of his nose once— noting she'd make an excellent storyteller.
"That's all?" Venti said, disappointed.
”That's all," she confirmed.
"You left out the main parts!”
“The main parts?”
“Yes! You skipped everything after that!” Venti said. "Did you exchange romantic letters?"
"We exchanged letters—"
"Did you think about him afterwards?" Venti said mischievously.
There was a sound of setting down a glass followed by Diluc's voice, "You haven't paid for your drinks last time," her savior said, looking at Venti.
"Ehehe how about I play you a song and we'll call it even?"
"Pay your tab," Diluc said leaving no room for arguments.
"Boohoo, you're no fun Master Diluc," Venti said dejectedly somehow escaping like the wind.
"I really need to make up a strong backstory for us," she muttered after Venti left.
"How about not using your intellect on this and utilizing it elsewhere," Diluc suggested.
"I can think a lot more as long as I'm not hungry," she said thinking about food. "I heard they're selling a potato shrimp dish at Good Hunter's. Would you like to come with me?" she asked, expectantly.
"You want me to go out for a meal with you?" he repeated.
"Yes, my darling I'm giving you the honor of taking me out for my first meal after getting hitched," Y/n smiled.
"You don't have to needlessly go out of your way to spend time together. It's not like anyone suspects us," Diluc said grabbing her glass and setting it aside.
"Okay. If you're busy I'll go by myself," she said, the enthusiasm fading a little.
Just then the entrance swung open to reveal Angel's share's most loyal freeloader customer, Kaeya.
If Diluc had declined her invitation, there is a high chance she might ask Kaeya. There's absolutely nothing wrong for her to go get food with Kayea but for some reason Diluc did not like the idea of her getting her first meal with him. So he quickly added before Kaeya spotted them, "actually my schedule is free. I can go with you."
"It's fine you don't have to force yourself—" she raised her hands.
"I'll meet outside in a few minutes," he said leaving no room for arguments.
Y/n was about to speak but then closed her mouth, her grin returning. "It’s a date, then."
"A date is not how I would term it…"
“Well,” Kaeya drawled as he approached, “hello, sis-in-law.”
Y/n pointed at him instantly. “Hold that thought.”
Kaeya paused mid-step.
“You still haven’t been forgiven for what you pulled.”
Kaeya placed one hand over his chest. “I’m hurt.”
“You should be.”
"Yet here you are enjoying happily ever after," he said sliding onto the chair next to her. "So…" he leaned closer, "how goes married life?"
"Pretty great. We're going on a date now—" she stated seriously.
Kaeya wheezed almost falling off his chair. "Then what?" he said wiping a teardrop form the corner of his eye and steadying himself by catching the counter. "Go on your honeymoon? I'd suggest Fontaine. I heard it's quite popular with newlyweds."
"Thanks for the suggestion, brother-in-law," she said with a smile as she stood up. "Can't keep my darling waiting," she strolled over to Diluc, grabbing his arm, who came over behind them when Kaeya was too busy laughing.
"Hold on—" Kaeya stopped laughing. His eyes darted to her then to Diluc and to his arm which she was holding. "You're serious??" he was confused because how was Diluc playing along?? "What the hell happened since I last saw you?" he called behind them as they left the tavern.
—
The evening air was cool and pleasant around the City. They were seated at a small outdoor table with plates of food near Good hunter.
They mostly ate in silence till Y/n broke it. "Tell me something."
Diluc glanced up from his plate. "What?"
"How did you become so practical?" she finally addressed the question that has been weighing her mind for a while.
There was a small pause before he answered. "What makes you say that?"
"You used to be..." She searched for the word. "Excitable."
Diluc immediately looked offended. "Any child would act that way. It was ages ago."
"You carried frogs in your pockets and used to interrupt my reading because you found a particularly interesting reptile."
He was a little horrified. Regardless, he understood what she was actually asking. He set his spoon down. "A lot happened."
Y/n's expression softened. She knew about his father's death and that he left Mondstadt. Maybe everything that happened afterwards forced him to grow up faster than anyone should.
"When I was younger, I thought most problems could be solved if you tried hard enough." Diluc looked out toward the city square. "I learned that isn't always true—" he finished with an even, distant voice.
After a thoughtful pause, Y/n leaned slightly forward, resting her chin on her hand. "You know… I could help with the winery affairs, if you like. I handled administration at the Akademiya and there's the healers guild. Maybe I could take some of the load off you."
Diluc regarded her, a faint crease forming in his brow. "You wish to assist?"
"Yes."
"You don't have to go out of your way to help," he said, taking a sip from his glass.
"It is a wife's duty to share her husbands burdens," she said as if rehearsing that line from somewhere.
"Do I look like the kind of husband who would just dump his burden on his wife?" he frowned.
"You don't. So I'm taking them. Seeing my husband struggle is rather painful," she followed his motion and took a sip from her glass.
"I do not struggle," he defended.
"I noticed you come back late," she pointed out. "Unless you're working late or seeing a secret mistress behind my back it's not common to come in that late," she smiled which that indicated she was obviously joking.
Diluc paused his movements.
She looked straight at him with a questioning look. "Diluc?"
"This… arrangement may not be conventional," he began without hesitation. "But never suggest the thought that I am seeing someone else while being married to you."
He didn't sound annoyed or defensive. It was more like he was offended. As if the very idea was unacceptable and there were lines he simply would not cross. It's as if he were saying fake marriage or not, you are my wife.
She felt her heart skip at his words. "Okay," she nodded telling herself to get a grip. "As I was saying… We’re married now—it makes sense for me to contribute."
He studied her for a moment. "Very well," he said finally nodding in approval. "I will ask Elzer to show you the ropes."
Y/n smiled with a small thrill of satisfaction.
—
After the meal they walked towards the city gates.
Y/n walked beside him, hands clasped behind her back. "You don't have to walk me back."
"The roads get unsafe with monsters lurking around," he explained.
"I'll beat them up—"
"And return home with a ghastly cut? I don't think so," he said leaving no room for arguments.
"Hey— I can handle a hilichurl or two just fine," she objected. "Also… there's a cat following us," she looked at the creature behind him.
"I noticed," Diluc gave the cat a glance.
Y/n crouched down to pat the cat's head. It purred as she made contact and then went around her towards Diluc and headbutted his leg.
"Ohh he likes you."
"That's how cats are," he thought nothing of it.
Then another cat appeared, sniffed her, brushed its head on her hand then walked over to Diluc with intention and pawed at his leg.
She watched the sight. "You seem familiar to them. I didn't take you for a cat person," she said amused.
"They just come over randomly."
"Cat's just don't come randomly to me. Tell me— what's your secret," she stood up leaning closer to him. "Do you secretly feed them?"
"I do not—" he said far too quickly. Suspicious indeed. Does he not want others to know he likes cats?
"Even if you do… don't worry your secrets safe with me," she looped an arm around his, patting it with her free hand in mock reassurance.
"I told you. It's nothing like that," he said, as if desperate to change the subject. "Let's get going lest Adeline worry about you."
The study at Dawn Winery had transformed over the next few days. Where there had once been towering stacks of ledgers there were now neat labeled piles.
Elzer stood in the middle of the room holding one of the account books. "Lady Y/n… this is amazing!" Elzer exclaimed, with genuine admiration. He managed the winery’s affairs and as instructed by Diluc, he was showing Y/n the ropes.
Y/n smiled modestly, "It’s not much, really."
He looked genuinely emotional. "My lady… I could cry."
"...Should I be concerned?"
"You don't understand." He pressed a hand dramatically against his chest. "Master Diluc doesn't worry too much about winery affairs. I have to make sure everything is perfect."
"I merely reorganized the ledgers," she began humbly.
"Mere?" Elzer nearly dropped the book. "My lady, you are a godsend. You've cut three days of bookkeeping into one afternoon."
Y/n lowered her pen. "...Really?"
Elzer nodded enthusiastically that she worried his neck might break. "You've reduced both my workload and Master Diluc's."
'Just how overworked has this guy been…' she wondered.
—
Diluc was in his office holding a novel that Lisa had parceled him as a wedding gift. He skimmed through the cover raising a judgemental eyebrow at the title and opened it. It contained… questionable content.
He snapped the book shut immediately and was about to activate his vision to burn it without a second thought.
There was a knock at his door and Y/n entered. She noticed the book in his hand.
"Did Lisa give this to you?" she said.
"Yes…" he said putting the book down. "How did you know?"
"She gave me a copy too. Judging by your expression, I'm guessing you read the first page," she chuckled.
"I was about to burn this," he said, giving it an indifferent look.
"Lisa did predict you would do this so she told me to keep my copy safe."
"Elzer came by. He couldn’t stop singing your praises," Diluc said. He'll burn this later.
Y/n shook her head. "It was nothing."
"It felt like he’s going to hire you one of these days. Turn him down if he dumps too much work on you," he added, with what sounded like concern.
"It’s fine. It actually reminds me of my days in administration at the Akademiya after graduation." She walked across the table to the same side as him and plopped down on the table at his left. "I’m used to keeping busy."
He regarded her for a moment before nodding slightly. "Don’t overexert yourself.
"Not as exhausted as studying at the Akademiya," she muttered, shuddering thinking of the stress. "I had to finish piles of papers in a single night sometimes. Entire projects, reports… it was relentless. Makes me wonder how I even managed it."
Diluc listened as she continued, kicking her feet. "Sometimes it felt like it would never end. But I got through it. I had to. Besides, everyone’s required to master at least twenty languages before graduation," Y/n added casually, as if mentioning the weather.
Diluc wondered if he had heard her correctly. "Twenty..?"
"Yep!" She nodded.
He scanned her face carefully, looking for any hint of jest. But she looked entirely serious.
'She’s… serious,' he noted silently, leaning back slightly. He knew it would be best not to challenge her academic capabilities. "Do you need something?" he finally said.
"Ah right— I need to head to Sumeru, to take care of some matters at the Akademiya," she informed.
"You can just go as you please."
"I could but we are married. So I should at least let you know," she pointed out.
"Of course…"
"Disappointed, my dear husband?" she added teasingly, leaning closer to the side. "Did you want to come with me?"
She was met with an expressionless stare before he finally replied, "No. I have things to deal with."
"Maybe some other time then," she said hopping off the table and heading for the door.
She paused halfway turning the doorknob when she heard him call out her name.
