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The Geo Archon – or Zhongli as his preferred choice of alias as a mortal has once more extended an invitation to take tea with him. Rosalyne had been very little expecting an encounter with the archon again until the agreed time in which her gnosis would be surrendered to Rosalyne in accordance with the contract made with the Tsaritsa herself.
She knows not a singular word of the letters exchanged between Her Majesty and Zhongli, even though she had been in Liyue as the diplomat of the Tsaritsa to finalize plans and to ensure that it is the true gnosis that will fall into the into the Tsaritsa’s grasp.
In the history books that Rosalyne had poured over in an obsessive manner before her departure to the Akademiya, she had read much of the craftiness and intelligence of Lord Rex Lapis – the furthest from the picture of a war lusting and brutal god his enemies had long painted him to be.
And so the presence of Rosalyne had taken to lingering within Liyue Harbor – the merest of formalities as she was little convinced they would manipulate the agreement to suit his needs that came into contact with the Tsaritsa’s own goals.
And when she had insured the validity of the gnosis and the agreement of the archon in her cooperation with the process, Rosalyne had believed it to be a conclusion that came natural with negotiations and political games.
At least not until the arrival of today’s invitation to join Zhongli in taking tea in one of the little tea houses on the cusp of Liyue Harbor’s outskirts and overlooking the vast expansiveness of the ocean’s shimmering waters of turquoise.
The invitation also stated their intentions of arrival at the tea house two hours following the noon hour, and their guaranteed departure would come a further two hours afterwards.
And should Rosalyne hold any desire in the acceptance of their invitation, the time of the archon’s departure would become most flexible.
The confirmation of her answer is her arrival at the mentioned tea shop, a precise ten minutes before the time that Zhongli had stated. Even if merely to collect different teas for the girls – Columbina and Sandrone – to taste with one another during their tea parties.
“It seems that I had been correct in my assumption of you in that you are also an enjoyer of tea.”
It’s the depth of a smoothly elegant voice that Rosalyne has slowly come to be familiar with that catches her attention from her silent study of the city and coastline that are displayed in the view that is a provision of the open balcony of the tea house’s upper level.
Though Rosalyne will wield her pride as her shield as she does for all interactions, now in these moments, she also does not feel she must feign her respect for the archon of Liyue.
This character of Zhongli that the archon chooses to portray has earned themselves feelings of genuine respect that Rosalyne is loath to give any others – much less the deified archons that she feels little more than disdain for.
“When I was a student at the Akademiya in Sumeru, I made friends with a girl from Liyue who had been very much dependent on her tea for her success in class.”
Rosalyne is beginning with a story rather than a merest statement of confirmation and the Geo Archon seems to freely indulge her.
“She and I would often prepare our tea together over assignments and exams. We would also exchange different leaves and favorings from our respective nations. I did find myself rather fond of chrysanthemum tea and melon seed tea.”
“Tell me. . .” Zhongli herself begins with a few murmured words that are tinged with curiosity.
“Are you still able to indulge in sharing tea with others given the busy nature of your. . . occupation?” The archon further questions as both they and Rosalyne become settled at a low-lying table closest to the edge of the balcony.
Although the tranquility that is continuous on his features is clearly displayed, her bright amber hued eyes lighten even further with both her interest and investment in the answers provided by Rosalyne.
“Excluding this. . . encounter, of course. Which is only made a possibility by your extended stay in Liyue.”
“I am not one that is so easily forgettable if that is disappointment I hear in your voice at the thought of the Fair Lady taking her sweet time in your nation.”
Rosalyne muses with that same arrogance that laces each of her words, though during this encounter she speaks with not a hint of true malice.
“But to answer your question, Yes, I do take tea with the colleagues I find to be. . . Tolerable. The Damsalette is naive in the ways of the world but I do appreciate her gentleness and her willingness in tasting new teas. The Marionette is loud and in love with the sound of her own voice, as many of us are with our own, but she is honest and makes for enjoyable conversation. The Knave. . .”
There is a tap of her fingers against her jaw and lips in an expression of her thoughts.
“It is truly a shame that she does not spare herself even a singular moment of indulgence from her work.”
These are words that a Fatui foot soldier could not have dared fathom parting from the lips of the Fair Lady herself – the merest display of vulnerability that would only be shared with the aforementioned Harbinger herself. And yet these words are spoken with the same ease as any taunt or brag with an archon that should be seen as her enemy above all else.
“I do have to admit that your colleague Tartaglia gave me a distinctly different impression of your personality and relationships with your fellow Harbingers.” Zhongli remarks with amusement to her voice that she cannot help, as if to dare the infamous wrath that belongs to the Eighth Harbinger.
A reference that is made to the interactions with the other Harbinger that is currently situated within the borders of Liyue as well.
Rosalyne does not yet give an answer as her lavender-grey eyes take in the menu that is now offered to her, though she wears a knowing smile of amusement pressed to her lips.
It is not until she has given her order of the expected chrysanthemum tea that she continues forth with their conversation, her expression bearing expectation rather than irritation upon hearing of the youthful Harbinger’s words of her.
Tartaglia truly does possess talent and skill in drawing a rise of her irritation and anger.
“I will admit that it is well-known that Tartaglia and I often see eye-to-eye and both of our tempers can. . . Cause trouble for the both of us.”
Tartaglia and Rosalyne are amongst the highest of ranks in their compatibility upon the battlefield, which far from translates into the interactions of their personalities and lives away from battle. “Though the boy can be quite dramatic and his blood is still fresh enough in the organization that he cannot quite understand all of our relationships with one another with much depth.”
“You did accept my invitation to tea, so I believe that his description of you being incapable of friendliness is not quite accurate.”
It is an offering of a smile that speaks of both Zhongli’s amusement and her assurance of the lack of her belief in a great many things that have torn themselves from Tartaglia’s throat as he becomes engrossed in one tirade or another.
“And I must say that there is no other that could play the role of diplomat with your talent and skill.”
“I will not lie to you and claim that flattery will get you everywhere.”
Rosalyne speaks with a laugh between each word – though far from the manner of mocking that her enemies would find more familiarity with. Rather it is laughter that is a reflection of genuine amusement that is very much a rarity amongst the uppermost ranks of the Fatui Harbingers.
“I do quite enjoy the praise, however, if you should wish to continue.”
Zhongli returns with a small smile curling his lips upwards as they sip upon their own tea.
For an archon, Rosalyne believes him to be more reserved in his nature than many of his fellow archons – or so that is her perception that has been derived from her personal experiences and knowledge of the different leaders of the nations of Teyvat. Leaders that she may also meet with because of her position as the personal diplomat of the Tsaritsa.
Perhaps that is a piece of the reasoning behind her more amiable attitude she wears in her conversation with him that cannot be sought elsewhere in any other conversation.
Their refinement and a more tranquil approach to conversation is little likely to draw upon Rosalyne’s swiftness to irritation – vastly contrasting the abundance of superficial cheeriness and swift, biting wit of the Anemo Archon that would never fail in grinding Rosalyne’s nerves to dust.
“Though I must reassure you that I never truly took the words of your young colleague to heart.” Zhongli continues with lightly teasing reassurance – her means of the sublest of apologies for being the harboring listener to the great many frustrations that could tend to pour from the lips of Tartaglia in any moment of given time.
“Any apology from an archon herself? That is quite the honor that you have bestowed upon this humble, formerly mortal soul of mine.”
“I had believed myself to be above in. . . Indulging in gossip of others’ characters.. . . Though once one has reached my age and connections, it is an indulgence that is difficult to resist.”
Zhongli’s admission is spoken with lightheartedness that is accompanied by the darkening of her cheeks ever so lightly that Rosalyne just manages to catch within her sight beneath the faint, gentle light surrounding the tea house.
Though Rosalyne herself should be the furthest from shaming any other in their partaking of the exchange and spread of rumors and gossip alike.
Because although Rosalyne is little likely to be centered within the gossip herself, there can be no questioning of her skill in both the spread and the growth of rumors amongst her colleagues and subordinates alike. In her role as diplomat, the possession and knowledge of even the most minute details that are seemingly insignificant in nature are what ensure her success.
Especially the success of the achievements of the goals of the Tsaritsa and the establishment of the most favorable terms for the Fatui.
And that is not to mention the political games and manipulation of local politicians that are also necessities in the establishment of stable and positive Fatui influence within a region.
“I am sure that in your. . . long reign as archon and even before, you have had much more serious dilemmas to fret over.” It is a remark laced with amused sarcasm upon Rosalyne’s hearing of the archon’s indulgence of gossip and the merest implication that guilt should follow.
“Dabbling in gossip and fulfilling your curiosities is hardly a matter that could be claimed as sinful.”
Though it is most amusing imagery that is stark in the depths of her mind, with the entirety of the complexities of a being that claims to have witnessed six millenia, that there would exist such a debate of morality over a petty thing like gossip.
“Of course, I would be the last one to ever judge you for such a. . . flaw that you may consider it to be.”
Another softened chuckle parts scarlet painted lips that trail fading crimson stains across the edge of her tea cup.
“After all, you could consider myself quite the connoisseur of such interesting information and rumors. And both of us have much more serious crimes tucked beneath our belts.”
There is a small intensifying of Zhongli’s golden amber gaze as she ponders over the words of the Harbinger that she has most willingly invited to join her for tea.
And it is not any mere willingness, Zhongli had even possessed an eagerness in knowing the character of Rosalyne that is beyond her official position as the Eighth Fatui Harbinger and diplomat of the Tsartisa.
They had never felt such a streak of enthusiasm for any other member of the Fatui that had found themselves amidst the borders of Liyue – not even the skilled and prideful warrior Tartaglia that Zhongli knows all very well is disguising his own plotting and schemes with a cade of cheery friendliness.
“It must be my age and experience that has softened me to matters that ought to be considered trivial and frivolous.”
The Geo Archon muses in a voice of reflection, his jaw coming to rest within the palms of his hands. “And I have developed more. . . awareness of the range of human emotions and feelings as I spend my time amongst them.”
A savoring sip of gently cooling tea is taken between statements.
“The Rex Lapis of the past would have not even dared consider consorting with the views and opinions of the mortals of their land.”
“It is quite ironic that Geo of all the elements is viewed as the most intolerable, the most inflexible – sturdy and with a will that seemingly cannot be denied or changed. And yet you are ever flexible and changing, much more akin to the flowing waters of a river.”
The smallest of chuckles to be shared amongst themselves.
“It seems that we both have developed perceptions of one another with the limited and often biased information that is provided to us.”
It is a murmur from Zhongli’s lips as the warmth of the late afternoon’s sun filters beneath the shade of the awning, their softly dark olive skin glittering with the complements of molten gold.
Rosalyne does not believe her gaze has ever drifted over a sight more beautiful than this singular moment.
Not even when she had lifted her blurring eyes in greeting the sight of her savior, Her Majesty, The Tsartisa, in the moments she had nearly succumbed to the flames of her age and her grief.
“I have always placed an emphasis on the importance of our gatherings around tea as a way of knowing more about one another with my Harbinger colleagues.”
Rosalyne presses a smile against the edge of her tea cup, these movements ever deftly disguising the palest of blushes that have gathered upon Rosalyne’s cheeks.
It is one thing for her to have acknowledgement of her enjoyment of the presence of the Geo Archon and it is another thing entirely different in nature to ponder the merest thoughts of attraction.
“Though not all of my colleagues were.. . appreciative of the opportunities. Though it is never a surprise, knowing of our independence from one another. . . And that drinking tea and sharing a conversation is not so stimulating to others.”
With the passage of the next moment that now is blanketed within a silence that bears comfort, there is a reach of Zhongli’s gloved fingers that are gliding over Rosalyne’s own with the same fluttering lightness of a butterfly’s touch.
“Well. . . I, for one, would appreciate another opportunity to share tea with you and learn even more.”