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On the surface, not much stands out about Mondstadt’s Cavalry Captain once he’s been reduced to paper. Kaeya is more punctual in his appointments than he gives the impression of being, he does his work to a seemingly high quality, and he and Jean have a weekly meeting that is widely considered one of the few times she actually relaxes.
There’s nothing that should arouse Albedo’s suspicions further than they already are—except that amongst all this information, he can’t find a trace of education or interest in chemistry. And without such evidence…
Kaeya is not the first man to have perplexed Albedo, but he is the first to have managed it so thoroughly.
Yesterday was marked by an unexpected visit, with Klee inspecting every half-completed experiment scattered throughout Albedo’s Mond lab and Kaeya insisting on being as obtuse as possible in his explanation for why they were there. Albedo had been halfway-through measuring a careful quantity of quicklime when a sharp inhale turned his head—only to find Kaeya’s hand firm around Klee’s wrist, and the both of them directly in front of the subject of his latest experimentations.
“Aah-ah,” Kaeya tutted with a slight breathless quality Albedo hadn’t noticed from him before. “You may be our resident explosives expert—” At this, he released her wrists and brushed the back of a finger over her cheek, eliciting a giggle. “—but this particular experiment is best left in the capable and less-flammable hands of our Chief Alchemist, for now.”
Kaeya’s gaze, when it fell to Albedo, betrayed nothing—though he sounded strained, as if his vocal cords were a rubber band pulled too tight. “And such an experiment could benefit from accurate labelling, mm? Especially with enterprising young children underfoot.”
Kaeya finally departed, citing an emergency mission—though if it truly was an emergency, why had he lingered so?—and leaving Klee in Albedo’s care. She spent the rest of the day on her best behaviour, content just to sit next to him, leaving Albedo with plenty of time to decipher the new information he now possessed. Because it was undeniable: Kaeya had known. Not just what that experiment was, but who it was for.
Incendiary powder: far more potent than the dried-out lizard tails he previously introduced to Klee, and a formula Albedo has been iterating to ensure it meets the requisite explosive force for deep-sea fish blasting.
And despite the lack of evidence in both the Favonius library and the Knight’s dossiers, Albedo can’t shake this realisation. That was his personal experiment. Kaeya would have had to infer based on the single label of Saltpetre and the other ingredients on the table, in order to accurately conclude the substance would react when exposed to heat.
Heat, like the kind Klee could easily, accidentally, produce.
By reputation, Kaeya is a silver-tongued prince, an untrustworthy liar, or a popular Captain of the Ordo Favonius. Before yesterday, Albedo simply thought him the type to consider himself more intelligent than he actually is. Now, he’s something of a mystery.
So Albedo decides to do what he does best with those: a bit of hands-on research.
✧
Albedo has always known Kaeya is objectively a smart man. He wears intelligence like an ace up his sleeve: to be played in rare moments of shining, cutting wit, and otherwise obscured by airs of charisma, doublespeak, and a disarming smile.
The question is: if he is capable of quickly and accurately identifying the single potential hazard in Albedo’s lab, what else is he capable of? The more Albedo considers it, the more plausible it seems that all this time Kaeya could have been hiding the extent to which he understands the details of what goes on around him.
Albedo hasn’t even finished formulating how he wishes to execute his plan when his subject comes right to him. “Knock knock,” Kaeya croons, the lab door swinging open without pause. “I come bearing a gift.”
“A gift? I don’t need anything,” Albedo says, confused, glancing over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of flashing smirk and proffered ceramic bowl. “...What is this?”
Kaeya’s smile is flawlessly innocent. “It’s Herta’s birthday, and since she isn’t a fan of traditional cakes, we ordered a pudding for the occasion.”
“I see.” Albedo accepts the bowl from Kaeya, careful to avoid overlapping fingers. This could make an opportune moment for a test. Under the guise of taking a spoonful, he observes Kaeya closely. “While you’re here, Captain, could you pass me the retort?”
Kaeya lifts a ceramic aludel instead and brandishes it casually. “Is this what you want?” He tips it to the side, just enough to threaten sliding the top pot off the bottom.
Albedo doesn’t stop him. He eats the spoonful and relishes the burst of Sunsettia and sugar on his tongue. It’s delicious. Kaeya rights the aludel and sets it in front of Albedo, who shakes his head as he pushes the bowl away. “Close. On the stand, to your left.”
Kaeya simply shrugs, the gesture somehow amplified by his eyepatch. “I’m certainly not the expert here. Well—” Kaeya pauses as he crosses the threshold, “far be it from me to overstay my welcome. You know you are invited too, Chief Alchemist.” He departs with a backwards wave.
Albedo rests his elbow atop the table. Kaeya said he’s not the expert here, but Albedo could have sworn he caught the quickest subconscious flicker of the eye towards the correct vessel. Not to mention the way Kaeya almost dropped the upper piece of the aludel. If he is familiar with these instruments, why pretend to not be? Why obscure such innocuous knowledge?
The current evidence lends itself to one of two paths: either Kaeya has some game he’s playing, or Albedo is simply seeing what he wishes to and Kaeya is innocent.
✧
Albedo rarely visits the Angel’s Share, preferring the quiet company of a select few to the eternal bustle of Mondstadt nightlife, but the same certainly cannot be said of Kaeya.
His entrance doesn’t stay unnoticed for long. After Albedo greets Charles and declines a drink, he is directed to the second floor, where Kaeya sits, nursing a glass of wine.
“Albedo?” He looks up, and Albedo senses nothing but genuine pleasure. “What a rare delight to meet you here. Come, sit, let me buy you a refreshment.”
Kaeya doesn’t sound his usual brand of facetious, but Albedo shakes his head anyway. “I have a question. Has Mona revealed much about your constellation? Specifically, its influence on alchemical experimentation?”
Kaeya sets his goblet down and furrows his brow. “You… came here to ask me this? Well, I suppose I can oblige. Constellations, hm…” His gaze traces down the line of Albedo’s nose and chin to linger at his neck. “Mona always says Pavo Ocellus is a wildcard. For alchemy, wouldn’t one prefer a stable, consistent, boring constellation like, say, Noctua?” He shrugs. “Either way, if there is something to the old myths of stars and luck, I’m hardly the right one to ask.”
There are circumstances where a wildcard can prove valuable, or even desirable, though Kaeya is correct that stability is often prized when influencing experiments. Albedo is careful—if he shows any excitement, Kaeya will become suspicious. “Why not you?”
Kaeya lifts the goblet. In the golden light, shadows play across his face, enhancing the contrast of dark hair and the arched curve of his lips. Albedo watches him drink, and follows the bob of his throat when he swallows.
There is no star marring his skin. Unless the eyepatch…
Albedo flicks his gaze quickly back to Kaeya’s exposed—and narrowed—eye. There’s no one else up on the second floor. Perhaps he can speak more freely—
Kaeya shrugs, and when he turns Albedo can only see the eyepatch. “I stubbed my toe earlier, and Diluc ran out of Death After Noons, so I’m drinking a different stock of wine. I don’t feel particularly lucky just right now.”
It takes a solid minute for the answer to fully sink in. Because of… stubbed toes?
“Would you like to change that, mm? Can I tempt you into sharing a drink?”
Albedo’s fingertips are brushing his throat before he registers the motion. He stiffens, and his cheeks pound, and he abruptly does not wish to be here, in this tavern, facing this man and his smirk. “Good evening, Captain.”
Kaeya’s jaw works a moment before he shakes his head. “Goodnight, Albedo.”
✧
It’s late; he’s already lit lamps at either side of his workstation, and there are no sounds coming from anywhere in Headquarters. Albedo would normally have put aside his work for the day by this hour, especially after an energetic Klee-filled afternoon. Instead, he finds himself still considering the mystery of Kaeya.
The soft creak of a door and gentle footfalls give Sucrose away.
“A-ah, good evening Mr. Albedo.” She thrusts a package towards him, bending at the waist in the process. “Kaeya asked me to deliver this to you!”
“Oh?” Even without unwrapping it, he can smell the citrus-sweet scent of Sunsettias. “What is it?”
“He said it was an apology.” As Albedo sets it aside for later, she continues. “Mr. Albedo… I have to ask. Are you two fighting? Is that why you’re still in the city?” No sooner have the words left her mouth then she covers it. “Oh! No! I mean, it’s been nice to have you in Mondstadt, but I know you have unfinished work on the mountain. I’m just curious, and I’ve never seen you and Kaeya spend so much time together.”
It’s a good question. And the answer is…
“I’ve enjoyed the change, I think,” Albedo admits. “However, I suspect I will return to Dragonspine rather soon.”
The truth of the matter is that Kaeya is easy to underestimate, and somewhere along the line, Albedo did just that. To realise it now feels akin to having sheer fabric draped over the eyes—he’s been seeing half a picture, hazy and tinted. It’s no wonder he’s never been able to sketch Kaeya to any degree of satisfaction.
Tomorrow, he’ll ask Kaeya outright.
✧
It should be embarrassing how easily the answer comes to Albedo once he’s facing Kaeya again.
The haze clears. He’s been evaluating if Kaeya has been toying with him or if Kaeya is innocent. And he’s right, sort of. It’s both.
“You knew I was testing you. Why not say?”
“And ruin the fun?” Kaeya sounds delighted. “Is this why our mysterious alchemist has forgone his return to Dragonspine? To investigate me? I must say, Albedo, I didn’t know you felt that way.”
A heavy thump of his heart, and Albedo’s pulse rises from his chest to his cheeks. Realisation crosses Kaeya’s face at the same time it clicks into place for Albedo. “...Oh my,” he says. There’s something different about his voice. “Isn’t that a pleasant surprise.”
Kaeya’s approach is swift, but his touch is gentle, filling the cavity in Albedo’s chest with butterflies as he runs his fingers through Albedo’s hair. Before Albedo can react, Kaeya’s already undone the braid and entwined a golden lock around one digit.
“Captain?”
“'Kaeya.'”
“...Kaeya? What are you doing?”
As if he didn’t hear the question, Kaeya murmurs. “It’s been nice, don’t you think? All this time together.”
“...Is that why you set all this up?”
Kaeya’s expression is unreadable. “Klee missed you. I’m sure you noticed she’s been quieter since the Golden Apple Archipelago.”
In retrospect… “I suppose so.”
Kaeya’s smile isn’t unkind. “How does one mark an experiment successful, then? The desired outcome met without undue casualty? I suppose this has been a win.”
Something still doesn’t make sense to Albedo. “But how did you identify the incendiary powder?”
The answer comes in the form of a finger tapped just beneath Kaeya’s eyepatch and a drawled, “Now now, Albedo. Let a man have some secrets, won’t you? You’ll threaten my mysterious appeal.”
He tucks that strand of hair behind Albedo’s ear and steps away. “Don’t be a stranger. You’re always welcome here. Klee… and I… would enjoy having you around more often.”
Albedo wordlessly rests his hand atop his thumping chest as the door creaks open. But before it can close—
“Oh, and Albedo? You’ve mislabelled your saltpetre. That’s potassium nitrate in there, not quicklime.”
When he lights it with a match, purple fire confirms Kaeya’s assessment.
But… how?