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“Master Jean,” a knight called out, “There’s no trace of him inside the building, nor anywhere in the perimeter.”
The acting Grandmaster bit her lip, troubled. Her frustration had been building up since earlier that day, when she’d received a note tipping her about the very theft they had just failed to prevent. The target: the sacred lyre that was being kept inside the cathedral. Despite stationing several knights in and around the cathedral since the afternoon, the lyre was still stolen right from under their noses. One minute, the lyre was exactly as it should've been. The next thing they knew, a rusted, broken lyre had taken its place and they were turning the place upside down trying to catch the thief.
Jean sighed just remembering it.
“Just keep an eye out. He couldn't have gotten far," she ordered, massaging her temples. "Keep some men around the cathedral and have the rest spread out to search the rest of Mondstat. If you find him, bring him back to headquarters."
"And if we don't?"
“I will."
With that, she turned on her heel and began setting out on her own search. She had a pretty good idea of who this phantom thief was, especially since this was not his first crime. He's committed several thieveries over the past few weeks. He'd stolen priceless bottles of finely aged dandelion wine, a few enchanted lyre strings, and even some fine china. Each time, he would send a tip to the Dandelion Knight herself. They would always come in the form of a little card, with a time and place and a tiny little wisp drawn into a corner. His latest crime was just another hint at his true identity. If she guessed correctly, then she should have a good idea of where he would be right now.
The path to Windrise was a familiar one. Jean's body had long been conditioned to relax along this path with how often she came here to get some peace of mind. She had to remind herself why she was heading there in the first place and steel herself to confront this elusive phantom thief.
As soon the grand tree of Windrise came into view, Jean surveyed for any sign of the thief. It was odd, though. She couldn't trace any physical evidence of anyone being here, but she could hear the faint sound of a lyre. Clearly, he was in the area.
"I know you're here," she called out, looking up at the glowing statue of her anemo archon. It wasn't very long ago that this same statue had been as dull and lifeless as the one by the cathedral. Now, it glowed and emanated a soothing anemo power. She could pinpoint when the statue had changed right around the time that the outlander had shown up... together with the appearance of a whimsical bard and, shortly after, the phantom thief she had been chasing after.
"Looking for me, Acting Grand Master?"
The voice came from behind her, but when she whipped her head around, hand steady on the hilt of her sword, she saw no one there.
She heard giggling, and followed the sound to see Venti, perched up on one of the larger branches. Just who Jean was expecting to find.
"Mr. Phantom Thief?" Jean asked, raising a brow. Although Venti didn't seem like the type of person who would go around stealing from his very own people, all the clues pointed to him. Jean wasn't one to ignore hard, solid evidence.
"Me? A thief? What a bold accusation!" the bard exclaimed dramatically, putting a hand up to his heart as he leaned back, falling back and disappearing from view. Jean narrowed her eyes at this, but she didn't think he would run away at this point.
"Hardly an accusation when all the tips you've been leaving point right in your direction," she scoffed. “It would be very much appreciated if you could return the holy lyre and… all the other things you've stolen over the past few weeks."
"I'll consider it under one condition," Venti said, and Jean followed his voice to find him right beside the tree, standing in front of an elegantly decorated table filled with delectable treats and dishes. She spotted two seats, placed opposite to each other as well. She gave him a questioning look.
"Have dinner with me tonight."
Jean blinked. She couldn't have heard that right. "Pardon me?"
"Go on a date with me, Miss Dandelion Knight."
"You can't be serious," Jean retorted on impulse, eyeing the setup behind him. When did that get there anyway?
Seeing her disbelief, Venti smiled at her fondly and walked up to her. He held a hand out for her to take. When she reluctantly placed her hand in his, he bowed to place a light kiss on her knuckles, his eyes never leaving hers.
Oh.
He was serious.
Jean began to feel her cheeks heat up, and she instinctively turned away.
"That… That's the condition?"
"My only condition."
Jean bit her lip, her mind racing. He could be lying. He could be trying to distract her while he made away with the lyre. He could be playing a prank on her… But one look at the bard's sparkling teal eyes and she knew he was sincere.
"Okay," she agreed, turning away in embarrassment.
"Thank you," he said, joy and relief evident in his tone.
With his hand still holding hers, he led the blonde to the table and helped her into her seat. Once he'd taken his own seat, he caught her eyeing the table suspiciously. She was sure the fine china was the one stolen from With Wind Comes Glory, and the bottle of dandelion wine from Angel's Share. It made her wonder if even the food was stolen, and she couldn't help looking at Venti to confirm whether it was.
He seemed to read her thoughts, bursting into laughter at her expression.
"No, I did not steal the food," he answered, "I actually paid for it."
This seemed to set Jean at ease, and she began looking over everything appreciatively. They were all her favourites, she noted. And although she wouldn't admit it, she was rather hungry after spending the entire day preparing for the theft that this little one had staged. Venti seemed to pick up on that as well, humming a joyful tune as he began to serve her a little bit of everything. Jean sat there awkwardly, watching him gracefully arrange the food onto her plate.
"Eat up, my dear knight," he said once he was finished, settling back into his seat and watching her with expectant eyes.
She shrank under his gaze, eyeing his empty plate meekly. "I'll… wait for you," she decided.
"How sweet," Venti chuckled. As to not keep the lady waiting, he promptly began to fill his own plate as well.
It was only when both their plates were full and their glasses filled that they began to eat.
As apprehensive as Jean was at first, she easily settled into the soft, peaceful atmosphere that the bard had set. They made light chatter over their meal, mainly conversing about the city of Mondstat that they both loved so dearly. Although their conversation was light, never delving into any serious topics, Jean could tell just how fond the anemo archon was of Mondstat and it left her with a warm feeling in her chest. She enjoyed the bard’s company so much that she almost forgot the entire reason she was there. Still, she could only believe in his words and spend the evening in his company in order to resolve the issue. It wasn’t as if doing so was unpleasant. She was actually enjoying his company more than she thought she would.
After having their meal, Jean found herself sitting on the grass under the great oak tree, the bard only inches away from her. The sun had long since set, leaving them to bask under the light glowing fireflies and shimmering crystal flies. The sky was void of any clouds, giving the two a clear view of the countless stars in the night sky.
Jean sat with her knees pressed to her chest, hugging them closely to keep warm. With winter approaching, the nights were getting colder. Fortunately, Venti seemed prepared for even this and he draped a warm, fleece blanket around her. She thanked him bashfully, wrapping it around her body and leaning back against the oak tree.
“Would you like to hear a song?” the bard asked, pulling a lyre out from… who knows where. Jean decided it was better not to ask.
“Hm? Did my dear poet make a new song for me?” she said lightly, almost teasing.
The archon smiled and Jean felt her heart skip a beat. “Don’t spoil yourself the surprise,” he said as he began to strum a pretty melody.
Jean closed her eyes, focusing on the soft melody of the bard’s song. He sang of a female knight-- one who put her responsibilities above everything else. She took care of those around her as if they were her brothers and sisters, and always worked diligently even when no one was watching. With how much focus she put into others, she always failed to pay herself any mind. Consequently, that meant she also failed to notice the sentiments of those around her to the point that they had to take drastic measures to get her attention.
The story he sang of sounded familiar and personal, as if she knew who it was about, but the sweet lull of some much needed sleep clouded her thoughts.
The last thing she heard was the soft voice of her dear archon, filled with affection and endearment as he said, “Good night, my sweet knight.”
Come morning, Jean would be swarmed by news of items being returned and money being left to cover for the stolen goods. It turns out the holy lyre had never even left the cathedral that night. Several guards had witnessed the rusty, old lyre transforming back into the holy lyre shortly after Jean had left on her own investigation.
With all this information coming in all at once, the Acting Grand Master became busy writing up reports and making sure the thief had indeed stayed true to his promise. By the time she’d finished, night had fallen and it was far past time to head home.
Entering her chambers, she sighed, the fatigue finally catching up to her. She freed her hair from its ponytail and began to slip out of her day clothes, starting with her cape. As she moved to grab a nightgown from her dresser, she noticed something out of place. There was a familiar card atop her dresser. Immediately, she surveyed her room for any sign that someone had broken in, but the only indication she found was her open window. She couldn’t sense anyone’s presence.
Venti must have snuck in just to leave this note… and possibly spook her a bit. She found herself chuckling at the thought and picked up the little card. She traced the outline of the little wisp-- his signature-- with her finger, thinking back to yesterday evening. Despite the circumstances, she did enjoy spending time with the thief. He was rather charming and cunning in a way she hadn’t expected him to be.
Turning the card over, she flushed at the message.
“My next target: the Dandelion Knight’s heart.”