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If there is one thing about Fontaine that Lumine enjoys, it’s the fact the entire nation is all about spectacle. True, people will assume it superficial, but sometimes, you just want to have fun. For now, that’s where she comes in, acting as an entertainer within one of Fontaine’s many seedier venues. The entire point is to better understand what the Fatui might be planning on to steal the Hydro Archon’s Gnosis. This certain place, with its floral motifs, apparently is popular among some of the Snezhnayans.
With the waypoints, she has a much easier time with traveling discreetly so that people assume she is in one location when she is actually elsewhere. She can fulfill commissions in Mondstadt, have lunch with Zhongli in Liyue, gather flowers in Inazuma, then return to her cover in Fontaine all before dinner and the time she is supposed to be here.
With a certain shapeshifting friend from Inazuma, and Paimon accompanying them to add authenticity, Lumine is able to lead people into believing that she is in Sumeru, pursuing rumors of her twin brother. With that sort of alibi, she has been able to listen in on some conversations the Fatui really shouldn’t be having in a Fontainian dive. Granted, some of the agents do take a look at her and think she bears a remarkable similarity to the infamous Traveller, but she usually handwaves it with ‘trends’ and the wonders of make-up.
Lumine crosses her legs, perched oh-so-prettily on a perfectly plump pedestal of a stool, dressed as if she is a rose of the court. The gown she is in is a marvel of Fontaine’s creativity: golden skirts that share a resemblance to a peony, with layers of petal soft fabric, a shirt almost entirely made of gauze but for a few strategic petals that still guide the eye along delicate curves to conceal anything particularly indecent, and a few splashes of pale white to compliment the flowers in her loose hair.
It’s easy enough to let her mind drift, to get a breather when she just has to sit there, being a glorified lawn ornament while people file in, chattering and being attended to by pretty people dressed in other floral arrangements. She lightly touches the edge of the letter hidden away in the same space as her sword, absently tracing along the fine material. It smells of silk flowers, a mature, subtle scent favored by older women much like the letter’s writer, Zhongli.
At lunch today, when she had mentioned to Zhongli that she would be in Fontaine, the retired Archon had made a request of her. Tartaglia has been sent abroad, and if she encounters him before he returns home to Liyue, Zhongli would greatly appreciate if she gave him the letter. What could be so important that Zhongli would entrust a message to Lumine? Zhongli has lived for thousands of years, surely the God of Contracts could wait a few weeks?
Before Lumine could ponder on that mystery further, she hears a familiar clamor of voices, people barging into the foyer of the establishment. Voices speaking in Snezhnayan make some of the already present patrons grimace in displeasure. Lumine herself perks up, preparing to look as pretty and empty as possible so she can spy.
Only for her heart to stop when she meets a pair of familiar blue and very dead eyes. As dead as their owner is probably going to be if Lumine has her way.
The spark of recognition in Tartaglia’s eyes make it clear that he recognizes Lumine. She can’t blame him, they have crossed blades and paths on multiple occasions. But to her surprise, Tartaglia doesn’t even skip a beat, laughing as he is followed by several unmasked Pyro agents, new faces that she really should memorize and learn the names of so she can keep tabs on them later. But Lumine is more focused on keeping her anger under control to make an effort towards that.
What the hell is he doing? She knows he is a married man, hell, she had had lunch with his spouse! How can he just waltz right into a brothel-all-but-in-name and just flirt like he is a single gentleman?
With all of the internal outrage, she is sloppy, only realizing he has gotten so close that even in a normal volume, she can hear him clearly.
“Fine, fine, just this once,” Tartaglia says over his shoulder to one of the unmasked agents, the only one Lumine recognizes. Boris, isn’t it? Tartaglia adds gravely to the man. “But it’ll be a secret between us!”
Before her ire can reach a fever pitch as Tartaglia practically scoops her up off of her stool with her letting out an insincere peal of laughter, she hears a whisper in her ear.
“Play along.” Tartaglia speaks urgently, his hand sheathed in water to separate his hand from her waist.
It is a dance of words and feet as they flirt, Lumine - Peony - giggles and twitters, guiding the pretty young man to a door flanked by guards, through dark curtains and dimly lit passages into a room marked with her signature flowers. Each host and hostess of the Veiled Calyx have their own room assigned, with every part of their identity and portrayed personality within the club’s walls determined by their flower and symbolism.
But the moment the door closes… the masks can drop.
Of course, with Lumine’s caution, she does turn the key to make sure. After the tumblers are turned, Tartaglia barks out a laugh. “Well, well, out of everyone to find here! I didn’t know that Fontaine’s Archon allowed children to work here.”
“Childe, it isn’t my fault that I happen to be shorter.” Lumine turns about, putting a hand on her hip.
Again, Tartaglia laughs, leaning against the bedpost. “Should have eaten your greens like a good kid.” That detached, princely smile becomes something a bit more sincere, and she remembers that Childe is a sibling, just like her. “How have you been?”
“Bored.” The clock reads close to nine o’clock, the beginning of a long evening of entertainment. If she plays her cards right here, she could just take a nap while Childe passes the time in a different way. “How much time before your agents think you’ll be done?”
“Hm…” Childe leaves his spot to pace. “When I used to come to places like this, an hour or two. Maybe I’d call someone else in if I wore someone out. I was a bit of a hellion.”
“’Was’?” Lumine raises an eyebrow. “Last thing I heard, Zhongli still calls you a lusty rapscallion.”
“A ‘lusty rapscallion’ is an upgrade from ‘the ass end of a typhoon.’ Or ‘rat bastard.’ Oh, a few times, I’ve been called a Whore-binger!”
Lumine puts her hands on her hips, her mouth in a tight, firm line as she tries to not laugh at the last one. “But you aren’t one now. So why are you here now? You’re married.”
To a former Archon, the God of Contracts of all people! Wouldn’t Zhongli have Childe’s head for being in anything even remotely close to a house of ill repute?
Tartaglia rubs the back of his head with a laugh, his cheeks turning pink. “My agents dragged me in, saying I need to relax like old times. Even with me reminding them that I have Zhongli back in Liyue, they were like ‘but having someone back home didn’t stop you before!’” He scoffs. “I didn’t promise to love, honor, and protect someone before.”
Lumine blinks. So he is actually taking the wedding vows seriously. Childe crosses his arms, his own mouth in a pout. “I keep my promises, even if they aren’t to a God of Contracts who’d show me the Wrath of the Rock or my family. That includes you getting paid for this, by the way.”
“Obviously, but what are we going to do?” Lumine sits down. “I’d be happy with a fight but if we break anything, it’ll be coming out of my paycheck.”
“Well, there’s always the classic way to mess with people.” Childe grins. “Make a bunch of really dirty noises and keep them guessing.”
A pang of melancholy hits Lumine’s heart at that thought. How often had she and her brother had tricked people into that sort of nonsense when they were elsewhere? Ah, she misses him, probably as sorely as Childe misses-
“Oh, right.” Lumine takes out the letter from a hidden pocket. “Zhongli thought I’d encounter you sooner instead of later, and wanted me to send this.”
The Harbinger’s dead eyes do not exactly light up as Lumine hands him the sealed letter. But the smile that appears on his face is sincere, the darkness in his gaze becoming several shades softer. “Oh? What’s so important that jiejie gave it to you?”
“I don’t know. I actually didn’t look, I’m not going to pry into your affairs like that,” Lumine answers as he opens the letter. She may be spying, but not on her friends.
“Sorry, it’s a re…flex…” The words die in his mouth, his eyes growing wider and wider. The pupils flick first up at Lumine in disbelief, then back at the letter, his complexion growing paler and paler by the second. Slowly, he sinks down into the nearest chair, his hands trembling.
“So what’s in it?” What has him so shaken?
He silently offers the opened letter back to Lumine, his hand sliding up to conceal his now glistening eyes, the most absurd smile on his face.
In a beautiful, looping script, Zhongli’s beautiful handwriting, are four words.
‘Hey, Daddy. Guess what?’