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Furina couldn’t stop thinking about the incident.
Ever since that night—that singular fluke of an awful night—every sound and every shadow stood out to her in a startling manner. Her chest ached and hurt, as if phantom claws were ripping through her again and again. She would hear the Knave’s scoff of disbelief, over and over, as she dropped her on the ground and looked at Furina like she was a stain not even worth killing.
All throughout the meeting with the Knave—which was far, far too soon to be in the same room with the woman—Furina could practically feel the contempt dripping off of her, leaking through her eyes and shaking in their teacups. She hoped it was in her head, because if Neuvillette picked up on it too, then he might be inclined to agree and Furina… really could not take that.
Well, of course he wouldn’t agree with the Knave, that would be ridiculous. Furina would never be physically unsafe around Neuvillette, at the very least. He just might… think her a sham. Since he already knew far too many of her shortcomings. Or if he already thought her a sham, then if he noticed that even the foreign emissaries knew that too, then he might voice that disappointment and Furina simply did not want to hear it. (Not that it would be a lie.) She was the archon, including Neuvillette’s archon, so she must be as presentable as possible at all times. Forever. No exceptions.
Even when Furina sat under the fierce gaze of the Knave and wondered what was worse: that she could decide to finish her off at any moment, or that she didn’t even bother to.
Not that she would do it in front of the esteemed Iudex, of course. Furina was mostly sure. And Furina had known Neuvillette long enough to know that he was decently powerful himself. Not more powerful than an archon, of course! That would be absurd. (Except Furina doubted that the Knave would overpower him so easily like she had to Furina so that would make him better than her, just as she had always known deep down, but… but Furina didn’t want to think about that right now.)
It wasn’t even important to think about! Because the Knave was finally gone! (Probably lurking around the courthouse again, ready to toy with Furina again.) Furina had made it through the entire meeting without crying or latching onto Neuvillette’s arm once, despite being tempted to turn into a literal puddle at least twice, and… Stupid Furina, that was a terribly low bar. Rather, she excelled at the meeting because Fontaine and Snezhnaya were still on peaceful terms and they had time to find out about that Childe guy and Furina successfully avoided explaining the Oratrice to anyone which was good because Furina definitely had no idea how the Oratrice worked because she was clearly missing some divine knowledge the previous proper archon had, which is why Furina couldn’t even defend herself, much less a nation, and why her chest ached even when the Knave was gone and not killing her.
Oh drat. She was getting worked up again. How silly of her.
“…Lady Furina?”
Furina jumped, her heart in her throat and her chest vacated once more. Right. She hadn’t left the room and neither had Neuvillette. That was terribly embarrassing.
He was staring at her with that inscrutable gaze of his, eyes narrowed almost to the point of creasing his brow. What was he thinking? It was always so hard to tell, but Furina knew that he was often disgruntled with her in ways she didn’t know how to fix, so Furina couldn’t add more fuel to that fire.
“Hm?” She blinked forcefully, trying to play off as just being lost in thought in a productive, mysteriously godly way and not… whatever she had just been doing. “Oh, I was just… considering the state of affairs. You didn’t say anything, did you?”
Neuvillette didn’t immediately respond with a question he had attempted to ask or anything of that sort, which was not what she hoped for, to be honest. Instead, he hummed to himself, staring for a moment longer before his gaze shifted towards… That slanted look, that looked tired but not quite irritated but not calm either. It was one of those expressions that she never understood, and she doesn’t even think he understood, because Furina asked his assistant once (for curiosity’s sake! not desperation!) and the usually keen-on-studying-humans Melusine was just as clueless.
“Is…something bothering you, Furina?”
“Wha—” The question caught her off guard, and for in a moment of genuine shock, she had no real control over her countenance. (She hoped she wasn’t too unkempt or unbecoming.) It was just… the question, and the gentle way he said her name, was so clearly out of the ordinary for their usual conversations about politics and society, that it knocked her proverbial feet out from under her. It made her feel… small, and fragile, and the ache in her chest screamed under the phantom claws and she was dangerously close to crying when she tried to force words out of her throat to end her stupor.
Furina was the Archon of Hydro, though, the beloved god Focalors, so she recovered quickly. Clearly, she was overthinking things in her addled state, and she was letting little things get to her when they shouldn’t. Neuvillette was nothing if not professional, and the almost-unhappy tone she couldn’t quite place was likely just a result of his own stress.
After all, if she was (very justifiably) slightly concerned about the looming bad blood between them and the Fatui, then surely, the Iudex would be as well, as a fellow leader of Fontaine. Er, sub-leader? Esteemed person? (This metaphor was getting away from her...) Regardless, things were a teensy bit concerning out there, so naturally there would be a little bit of disarray. And for no other reason, of course.
“I’m fine,” Furina blurted with a bright (forced) laugh. “I mean, is it not natural to be contemplative over the affairs of my nation? Not that it’s anything I can’t handle, of course.”
Nevermind that Furina was still no closer to figuring out the Oratrice or the matter concerning the sea, since every time she looked and she searched no answers were ever illuminated to her.
“Of course not,” Neuvillette sighed, acquiescing to her because she was clearly right. “In that case… Far be it from me to dissuade you from carefully considering the path forward.”
Furina held herself a little higher. Did Neuvillette truly acknowledge her efforts? (Did it matter that she was lying at the present moment?)
Well, no matter, because it just meant that now Furina had to live up to the expectation that was perfectly reasonable for people to place in her, and Furina would, because she was the archon. No question about it.
She would just…allow that she made a mistake, when she let the Knave take her by surprise, and she would make sure it never happened again.
(Somehow.)
“Then I shall take my leave now,” Furina announced, carefully tossing aside the possibility of encountering anything wildly out of her control again in the near future and shoving that thought in a watertight box and burying it beneath the sea. When she all but ran from the room, she convinced herself that she wasn’t scared and that she wasn’t disappointed, and she convinced herself that Neuvillette was likewise convinced and that that was a good thing.
How water presented itself was how water was. If Furina believed that she was a capable and loved archon, then she will be one, and maybe then, she would learn what Egeria had known, and she would save Fontaine from political upheaval and drowning alike.
It will be fine.
(And the red crosses that haunted her mind, sneering at her that she wasn’t worthy to keep around, would soon fade.)
Everything will be fine.