Inside the carriage, the Tsar of White Sands and the Anemo Archon were having a delightful conversation.
The fairy guards accompanying them did not dare interrupt.
Standing erect around the carriage with their eyes fixed straight ahead, the guards nevertheless kept their ears perked.
The occasional bursts of laughter and lyre notes floating out from the cabin left them exchanging glances—His Majesty and the Anemo Archon seemed to be hitting it off remarkably well.
As for Mondstadt?
No one there had the slightest clue that their Anemo Archon had snuck off to chat with the Tsar of White Sands.
Ever since Barbatos helped his people overthrow the rule of the old aristocracy, he had rarely shown his face.
On occasion, he would descend upon the newly built Favonius Cathedral, but more often than not, he designated Vennessa—the Grand Master of the Knights—as his spokesperson to issue high-level directives.
True to the “freedom” he championed, the Anemo Archon remained as elusive as a dragon in the clouds.
When Anastasia finished handing over the refugee settlement arrangements with Vennessa and noticed that the honor guard had halted indefinitely, both women sensed that something was amiss.
Anastasia summoned a royal guard.
The guard bowed his head and reported, “Lord Barbatos is currently conversing with His Majesty inside your carriage.”
Anastasia: “…”
She turned to look at Vennessa.
The Knight of the South Wind, the Grand Master who bore the title “Lionfang,” displayed a look of clear astonishment.
“Lord Barbatos?” Vennessa raised an eyebrow.
“How did he end up in there?”
Anastasia didn’t answer.
She raised her eyes toward her carriage, where the doors were shut tight and a warm light glowed through the window.
Two gods were inside.
Because the Tsar of White Sands was an Archon on par with the Anemo Archon, the reception protocol was naturally elevated to the highest standard.
When Mondstadt learned that the Tsar of White Sands from Snezhnaya had arrived at the border, nearly every figure of note had turned out.
Grand Master Vennessa, clad in silver armor with a longsword at her waist, her iconic red hair striking under the sunlight.
The Bishop of the Church of Favonius, holding a staff, dressed in a white robe with a solemn expression.
The matriarch of the Gunnhildr Clan, a noblewoman whose family motto was perseverance, accompanied by her eldest son.
The patriarch of the Ragnvindr Clan, a middle-aged man of steady demeanor.
Along with several veteran figures who had earned great military distinction for Mondstadt.
They stood lined up before the pass, waiting to welcome the northern deity who had traveled from afar.
Yet now, the two gods were huddled inside a carriage, doing who knows what.
Vennessa let out a soft sigh.
Her ancestors came from a tribe in Natlan, but they had long been exiled.
She was born a wanderer in the wilderness, only to be captured by the old aristocrats and forced to fight as a gladiator for their amusement.
Vennessa was unaccustomed to aristocratic etiquette, but over the years, she had learned how to conduct herself and picked up on the subtleties of noble decorum.
She knew what kind of temperament her Anemo Archon possessed.
*Sigh.*
She only hoped he wouldn’t leave some strange impression on a foreign god.
“Why don’t the Grand Duchess and I greet the two deities together?” Vennessa turned to Anastasia, her tone sincere.
Anastasia nodded.
“Very well.”
The two approached the carriage, but the doors remained firmly closed.
Anastasia and Vennessa exchanged a glance, neither stepping forward to disturb them.
—Perhaps the Ice God and the Anemo God were discussing matters of great import.
They stood quietly a short distance away, waiting.
She spoke up, “I have long heard of the Grand Duchess of Snezhnaya’s Pale Star Court. Meeting you today, your reputation is well deserved.”
Anastasia gave a slight nod.
“I have also heard much of Grand Master Vennessa’s renown. To single-handedly lead the people in overthrowing the old aristocracy’s rule is truly admirable.”
Vennessa replied with the hearty warmth typical of a warrior, “We were pushed into a corner back then. But Lord Barbatos was always by our side.”
Anastasia caught the deep respect for Barbatos in her voice.
She didn’t dwell on it, simply continuing the conversation naturally.
“Mondstadt’s winds of freedom are indeed enviable. Snezhnaya has no winds so warm and gentle.”
As they talked, their conversation gradually shifted from polite pleasantries to practical matters.
Vennessa brought up, “I’ve heard that supplies in Snezhnaya are scarce, especially grain, fruits, and vegetables?”
Anastasia didn’t deny it.
“The extreme cold of the north leaves the land barren. Indeed, little can be grown.”
“Mondstadt’s agricultural output is exceptional,” Vennessa said directly.
“Fruits, livestock, wheat—we have a surplus every year. If the Grand Duchess is interested, we could establish long-term trade.”
Anastasia raised her eyes.
“Mondstadt is willing to trade with Snezhnaya?”
“Why wouldn’t we be?” Vennessa smiled.
“The people of Mondstadt believe in freedom, which includes forging friendships and trade with neighboring nations. Besides…”
She glanced at the tightly shut carriage doors.
“Both of our gods are inside chatting and laughing. We subordinates can’t very well hold things back, can we?”
Anastasia pondered for a moment.
“What Snezhnaya can offer is the unique craftsmanship of fairy handicrafts. The aesthetic sensibilities of the fairies follow His Majesty’s tastes, making our luxury goods quite famous. Merchants from Sumeru and Fontaine have continually sought to purchase them.”
Vennessa’s eyes lit up.
“That works out perfectly. Mondstadt doesn’t have a large demand for luxury goods, but we can re-export them to other nations.”
Thus, while the two gods were behind closed doors doing who knows what, the two ladies had already finalized an agricultural import deal and agreed upon a framework for transit trade.
***
Inside the carriage.
The two deities, neither of whom possessed much passion for state affairs, were indeed not doing anything proper.
They were making music.
“I think this section could use this chord—” Barbatos plucked his harp, releasing a string of bright, clear notes.
After listening, Moh nodded thoughtfully, picked up his violin, and played a responding melody.
The two sounds intertwined.
One was light as the wind, the other crisp as snow.
They were unexpectedly harmonious.
“Wonderful!” Barbatos’s eyes sparkled.
“Keep going, keep going—let’s try modulating this part?”
Moh lowered his violin and paused in thought.
“Just the two of us playing… won’t it sound a bit thin? Should I have the musicians from my honor guard accompany us?”
“Ah, don’t worry about that—” Barbatos waved a hand dismissively.
“You on violin, me on harp—the two of us will definitely blow everyone away. It’s the gathering of the Seven Archons! First time meeting, we’ve gotta show off a little, right?”
Amused by his confidence, Moh smiled.
Just as he was about to speak, his expression suddenly shifted.
“…Wait.” He tilted his head to listen.
“Why do I hear Anna’s voice?”
“Your adopted daughter? Outside?”
Moh set down his violin and rubbed his temples.
“She’s back. Maybe… we should do something proper?”
Barbatos tilted his head, a mischievous glint in his emerald eyes.
“Isn’t discussing the repertoire for the banquet of the gods proper business?”
Moh was choked into silence.
“Alright, fine.” Barbatos stood up and straightened his divine attire.
“I’ll come find you again later. Just leave the window open—consider it another promise between us after this.”
Moh: “…”
He looked at Barbatos’s completely unabashed face.
“Why do you make it sound like we’re sneaking around secretly?”
Barbatos froze for a moment, then let out a meaningful smile.
“That works too, doesn’t it? Let’s just call it a secret rendezvous, then.”
“?”
“You wouldn’t want your daughter finding out you’ve been playing around with another god, would you?”
*No, this netizen from Inazuma—wait, no, Mondstadt—is way too…*
*Look at that expression on Barbatos’s face, ugh.*
Moh: ( ⩌ – ⩌ )
*Forget it, I won’t lower myself to argue with an Anemo sprite.*
***
The moment the carriage door finally opened, everyone waiting outside reflexively stood up straight.
Anastasia and Vennessa stood at the very front, with the Mondstadt representatives and a group of fairies behind them.
Inside the carriage, the two deities stepped out one after the other.
Barbatos walked in front with a leisurely air, while Moh followed behind, calm and composed.
Standing side by side, one was as light as the wind, the other as cool as snow.
Their aura was unexpectedly harmonious.
Vennessa carefully observed her Anemo Archon’s expression—it was a look of complete satisfaction, the face of someone who had just done something that brought him immense joy.
Her heart skipped a beat.
*Lord Barbatos, what on earth were you doing in there?*
*You didn’t force someone to drink with you again, did you?
Last time you—*
Before she could finish the thought, Barbatos was already smiling and waving at her.
“Vennessa! Have you been waiting long?”
Vennessa lowered her eyes, her tone respectful.
“Not long, Lord Barbatos. We were merely discussing the import of agricultural products with the Grand Duchess.”
Barbatos blinked.
“Agricultural products?”
He turned to look at Moh, who also blinked and glanced at Anastasia.
“…Anna?”
Anastasia’s expression remained tranquil.
“His Majesty granted me full diplomatic authority. Reaching agricultural trade and transit agreements with Mondstadt falls within my purview.”
Moh gave a gentle nod.
“Good.”