Chapter Text
Neuvillette’s expression was carefully neutral as he planted an invoice on his desk, facing her. Marat Boutique. “Lady Furina, what is the meaning of this?”
Furina glanced at the paper and back to him, unamused. “If you expect me to explain my expenses to you, you are sorely mistaken. I thought you had more important things to deal with.”
“It is not my intention to offend you, but I do feel the obligation to reiterate a couple of matters.”
“Let’s get this over with.” Furina rolled her eyes and plopped herself on the edge of the desk. She rested her weight on a hand that covered the invoice Neuvillette presented her with and leaned forward. To his credit, he made no move to inch away from their close proximity. “You have…” Furina glanced at the grandfather clock by the door. “Three minutes to tell me all about the importance of proper fund management and decorum and yada yada.”
If Neuvillette was upset he made no show of it. As always, he took a seat only after she did. “What you do with your own funds is entirely your business, but right now there are many who are upset at the dip that the standard of living has taken.” Furina stared down unblinkingly into his eyes. If he was waiting for a sign of understanding from her, he could go ahead and make himself comfortable in his chair because both of them had eternity in their hands. Neuvillette’s chest rose sharply before he calmly exhaled, denying himself a sigh of exasperation. “Spending lavishly on new clothes will do no favors to your image.”
Furina pinched the bridge of her nose. “I have been dealing with the public far longer than you. Do you take me for a fool?”
“I never said that.” Neuvillette tapped the invoice covered by her hand. “My intention is to ensure that you are aware of the potential backlash your image may suffer. If the people cannot believe in their Archon during a time of need, then who can they believe in?”
Furina waved her other hand dismissively. “I thank you for your gesture, however unnecessary it was. I can handle it.” Neuvillette’s lips thinned but he added nothing else. She retracted her hand from the invoice and let him tuck it away into one of his many folders. “Now, what did you actually call me for? I’m a busy god, you know.”
He pulled out another folder and for a moment Furina wondered if she should buy Neuvillette some sort of storage for so many papers. The drawers in his desk were positively overflowing and he was too stingy to buy anything for himself. One of those days she would be sure to carve into his stubborn mind the importance of image .
“These are invoices of past transactions between yourself and Hotel Debord.” Neuvillette neatly placed a stack of papers with the emblem of Hotel Debord at the very top and Furina raised an eyebrow.
“So I like their desserts, sue me.”
“Mora is not circulating as it used to, so I took the liberty of tracking down where every last bit of mora from the budget of the Palais went.” Neuvillette placed another stack of papers beside the invoices from the hotel. This new stack had a different emblem and Furina paled when she recognized it. “It is no crime to donate mora, Lady Furina. May I ask why you felt the need to create false invoices from Hotel Debord in order to procure funds that were anonymously donated to a charity?”
Furina felt her left eye twitch. Forget about getting the overgrown lizard any gifts. “What gives you the right to scrutinize my expenses? I get why you would go over the mora put in the Maison Gardiennage, the Marechaussee Phantom— especially the Maison Cardinalice, but mine?”
“I apologize if I overstepped—”
“— You did.” She slapped a hand to her forehead in a failed attempt to ward off an oncoming headache. “Are you a loan shark or my Iudex?” Furina groaned. “What is it with you and the mora that I spend?”
Neuvillette had enough sense to seem mildly sheepish. “I truly meant no offense, I merely wish to make the expense reports as clear as possible for the Maison Cardinalice, but that is not possible when you bring in false receipts and funnel the mora elsewhere.”
Furina sighed and allowed herself to deflate if only a little. It was a state matter which meant that the odds of Neuvillette letting it go were dismal. Should she play the power card and force him to let the subject go? It didn’t feel right after two centuries of partnership. He was only acting out of concern for Fontaine, if anything she was grateful for his unwavering determination to fix the flaws in the flow of mora even if it came at her expense.
When her silence grew too long to feign serenity, Furina settled for the truth. Perhaps it would be better if he were onboard with her plans. Her eyes trailed past him to his window. “Consider this a lesson on humanity, Neuvillette. Appearances are important and if Palais Mermonia becomes openly concerned with this issue of mora… I would prefer to maintain the illusion of control and work behind the scenes.”
Neuvillette followed her softened gaze to his window. Gardes and civilians made their way through the square, below them. “You wish to avoid a panic,” he concluded.
A knowing smile crossed her lips and Furina flicked Neuvillette’s bangs, bringing back his attention to her. “Humans are prone to drastic feelings in moments of insecurity. We must be the solid foundation that they can trust in the face of any calamity.”
“I understand your logic,” he said after a moment of silence. He had to lean back against his chair to meet her eyes as she was sitting on the desk and Furina dearly hoped that the gesture marked the dynamic he was scripted to follow. If she could avoid explicitly using the power card, she would. Neuvillette lightly tapped the two stacks and her hopes suffered a quick death. “Even so, I must insist that reforms addressing social class and the economy are necessary and immediately so. I do not see how we can return to homeostasis without forceful action.”
Furina straightened her posture and raised a palm to her heart. “Trust in your Archon, my dear Iudex, and all will be well.”
Neuvillette narrowed his eyes and not for the first time did Furina wonder whether they held suspicion or if it was a mere reflection of the cogs turning in his mind. “Very well, Lady Furina. Would it be acceptable to discuss your strategy in detail after today's trials?”
Furina jumped to her feet and brought a palm to her cheek. “I don’t know, shall I?” Neuvillette gave her a look and she raised her hands in mock surrender. “ Fine, if you insist on being privy to my brilliant plan I suppose I can share the details after dinner.”
If she didn’t know any better, she would’ve thought that he seemed rather relieved.
oOo
“This is— it’s a great honor, my lady!”
A smirk crossed Furina’s lips and she lifted her chin, careful to not move the rest of her body. “Indeed,” she drawled. “There is no greater publicity stunt than making regalia fit for a god . I suggest you take full advantage of this once in a lifetime opportunity, Madam Marat.”
“Yes, I won’t disappoint you, I promise!” Marat unfurled her measuring tape as she approached the elevated platform where Furina stood. She held the measuring tape to her chest and took a deep breath before wrapping it around Furina. “You will set the Court of Fontaine’s trend for the next century. I— I will make sure of it.”
Furina chuckled when Marat’s voice trembled. “ I chose you. Do not doubt yourself.”
Marat’s gaze lit up and she nodded her head. Like a whirlwind the measuring tape surrounded Furina at various heights and for a moment she thought she would be tugged from the platform and sent sprawling on the floor in a most undignified manner. The only trace of her surprise was a sharp intake of breath that was promptly regulated into a proper pace. It wasn’t as if that was her first time entertaining a seamstress or a designer.
Pull yourself together, Furina.
The flurry of hands and measuring tape eventually came to a stop and Marat almost glided over to the coffee table and picked up her notebook with a wide smile. “Now, Lady Furina, I understand that you intend to do something… unorthodox. Could you elaborate on that?”
Furina stepped down from the platform and extended her arms as a melusine offered a robe over her thin nightgown. When she reached the limit of her height without reaching the archon’s shoulders Furina finished shrugging on the robe. “Thank you, Sedene. You may take your leave.”
Sedene smiled and her ears bounced with her small nod. “Of course, Lady Furina.”
The door clicked shut with the exit of the melusine and Furina skipped over to the couch, gesturing at the space by her side. Marat took the hint and quickly took a seat, sketchbook and pencil in each hand. So eager to please, Furina mused.
So blissfully oblivious that the revered Iudex of Fontaine would come very very close to committing regicide— or would the correct term be archoncide? Was that a real word? The poor man had no eye for fashion nor the influence of it and the second he found out about the details of her plan, he would surely be upset.
Not that it mattered in the grand scheme of things. It was all for the greater good.
“You see, I—”
The door clicked open once again and Sedene peeked through the small crack she left open. “Forgive my inattentiveness, shall I let Monsieur Neuvillette know that you will be late for breakfast?”
Furina hoped her smile did not seem too stiff as she raised a finger to her lips. “Tell him that he can go ahead to the Opera Epiclese without me. I have a… surprise for him, let’s not spoil it just yet.”
Sedene’s ears perked up and Furina ignored the twinge in her chest. Whatever the sweet melusine was thinking, she was utterly wrong. “I will tell him right away.”
Furina held at bay the urge to sigh and instead clutched her long robe, allowing it to cascade through her fingers. Her lips curled downwards at the soft yet irritating murmur of the fabric falling against itself. “I find the current trends to be lacking and none of my usual boutiques have offered satisfying solutions. Hence, I found a smaller boutique… one that is not afraid to think outside the box.”
Marat glanced at the fabric pooled under Furina’s hand and the frown on her face. “You wish for a higher hemline?”
Furina allowed approval to grace her features. “Exactly.”
Humans were predictable after observing them for some time. When silence extended itself for a tad too long, they scrambled to fill it. Whether it was with mindless ramblings or useful information was beyond her hands, but it was a good start.
“That— that is not all, is it, Lady Furina?”
Smart cookie.
“The layers are irritating.” She propped her chin on her palm, thoughtfully humming. “Something shorter than the norm, limit the layers, and make sure it is flattering. While I can certainly pull off just about any look, I am a public figure. The focus should be me and not a bunch of ridiculously poofy layers. Do you understand what I am looking for?”
Marat’s pencil did not stop moving even after Furina ended her monologue. Wide eyes were focused on the notepad with a sharpness that rather disturbed and amused Furina. It was the glint of madness of an artist putting their heart and soul into their craft. She had to give herself credit where it was due. She made the right choice by bringing in Marat Boutique to fulfill her vision and the owner was about to prove her right.
As if to confirm Furina’s thoughts, Marat confidently spoke. “Leave it to me, my lady.”
After what felt like an eternity, Furina inched to a better view of the notebook and Marat shifted so that she could see the process. Several croquis littered the page though only a few wore any roughly sketched out designs. “Lady Furina, do you have any preferences for the colors?”
Blue, dark like the Lakelight Lilies that mark the boundary between Fontaine’s waters and lands, a familiar voice whispered. Furina thinned her lips and withheld the urge to shake away any foolish thoughts. She was regarded as the eternal spring of Fontaine, a warm and bright figure, in the hearts of all. Illuminated by the golden lights of the Opera Epiclese.
Furina’s lips stretched into a practiced smile. “I would like the base to be white.”
Pure like the spring.
Transparent like justice.
Because indeed it was her justice. Many of the laws that Neuvillette and the Oratrice upheld and enforced were laws that she wrote herself. While it was not much compared to what Neuvillette and the others in both Palais Mermonia and the Opera Epiclese did, Furina could not find it in herself to completely snuff out her pride in being able to do something real for the people of Fontaine, something tangible while the water levels slowly but steadily rose. She was not completely useless.
Marat bit her lips and nodded as her pencil continued zooming across the pages. Furina debated whether the silence, filled only by graphite against paper, was appropriate. She needed Marat to concentrate and offer her the best work her mind will ever produce, but was she coming off as too standoffish? Marat should know that she appreciated and even admired her work. Right? Perhaps that would be excessive, but deep within her mind Furina could be allowed to praise the talent behind the creations of innovative designs and the production of said designs. While it was not Furina’s favored form of art, fashion in all its stages was still an art worthy of her appreciation.
“How about the rest of the color scheme, is there any other color you wish to favor?”
“For the details…” Furina glanced beyond the window, to the shoreline. It was just a small detail. Surely no one would bat an eye at their archon donning the colors of wildlife native to their nation. “Follow the color scheme of the lumitoiles.”
“Ah, yes!” Marat pulled out colored pencils. She twirled one between her fingers until she snapped them. “What a brilliant concept,” she murmured without taking her eyes off of the sketchbook. “Lumitoiles light up the shores just like you light the Court of Fontaine. I see what you mean now.”
What is she going on about? Furina laughed and clasped her hands together. “Exactly, I knew I made the right decision when I invited you here. Your understanding of the symbolism behind the motif is commendable.”
Marat’s face flushed and she bowed her head. “ I— I’m honored that our Archon is proud enough of us to willingly reflect the natural beauty of Fontaine in your regalia.”
If that is what Marat wanted to think, then who was Furina to deny that fantasy? “We are regarded as the center of culture and arts of Teyvat, how can I not be proud of my people?”
Eventually, the scratch against paper came to a slow halt and Marat handed over the sketchbook to Furina. In the absence of the sketchbook, Marat played with the pencil in her hand.
Beside her, Furina’s eyes scanned the pages almost like a Specialist Mek analyzed an opponent. She suppressed the urge to smile and hug the sketchbook to her chest. The designs were beautiful. Worthy of a god. She would need to pull them off with the grace of one, somehow.
Furina held a page between her fingers, tilting her head thoughtfully. “Madam Marat, where did this come from?”
Marat’s shoulders jumped slightly before she leaned forward. Her eyes widened when she found the anomaly on the page. “Oh, that! I just thought that— that perhaps a crown would suit you… while you intend to set a new trend, I thought that I should add something unique to you. To set you apart from the crowd that is bound to follow the standard you set.”
Furina hummed and raised a hand to her chin. The crown in question was more like a headband with spike-like figures that reminded her of the rays of the sun. Would it make her look more authoritative? Depending on the deference that the people gave Neuvillette to give her own orders some teeth was no good in the long run. Playing good cop and bad cop without his knowledge would eventually bite her in the back and she couldn’t have that. Absolutely not.
“I like it.”