*This lady…
holds a high status among the fairies?*
Lia asked no further questions, focusing intently on mixing the drinks.
Amber dandelion wine poured into the shaker, blended with the crisp sweetness of apple cider and a splash of lemon juice—Lia’s movements were fluid, bearing the composed mastery of a seasoned bartender.
Meanwhile, she reached for a heavy-bottomed glass, filled it with deep crimson wine, added a few drops of mint essence, and dusted it with crushed spices.
She slid both glasses toward the guests at the same time.
“For Lady Anna, a ‘Sunrise,'” Lia said.
“A famous Mondstadt sweet wine recipe.”
“And for Mr. Kirill, ‘Midnight’—a high-proof, spiced wine.”
Anna picked up her glass, and Filins raised his as well.
The two exchanged a glance and lightly clinked their glasses together.
Anna was not as fond of drinking as Kirill.
After all, lamp fairies treated alcohol as fuel, drinking it merely to burn it.
But her good father was fond of concocting all kinds of strange brews, so she often had chances to taste novel creations.
When it came to alcohol, she judged it by only two simple metrics: whether it was strong enough, and whether it tasted good or terrible.
She took a small sip.
Refreshingly sweet, smooth, with the distinct aroma of dandelion wine.
“Not bad,” she said.
Across from her, Filins had already finished half his glass.
“Miss Lia’s drink is expertly mixed,” he said, his tone sincere.
“Second only to His Majesty’s.”
Anna raised an eyebrow.
“You’ve had His Majesty’s drinks?”
Filins turned to look at her, a hint of meaningful amusement in his yellow eyes.
“Your possessiveness over His Majesty really is excessive,” he said.
Anna stared at him.
“?”
Filins continued, “It isn’t just me. Many fairies have tasted the food and drinks His Majesty makes. That was His Majesty’s wish—joy shared is joy doubled.”
Anna remained silent for a moment.
“Wait,” she said.
“Weren’t we talking about drinking? When was I ever overly possessive?”
Filins looked at her with a gaze that practically screamed, *Are you truly unaware?*
“Last time,” he began, “His Majesty finally attended the banquet hosted by Grand Duke Serivik. He hadn’t even been seated for five minutes before you dragged him away.”
Anna frowned.
“That was due to urgent state affairs.”
“Whenever His Majesty dines with the other Grand Dukes,” Filins went on, “there is never a smile on your face.”
“That is because they talk utter nonsense, ignore actual duties, and do nothing but curry favor.”
“And the time before that…”
“Wait.” Anna raised a hand to cut him off.
“Stop.”
She took a deep breath.
“In your eyes, am I a jealous fairy?”
Filins did not answer directly.
He raised his glass and took another sip.
“You know,” he said, “I have little interest in social affairs. Yet these rumors… still managed to reach my ears.”
Anna let out a cold sneer.
“They certainly have too much free time.”
She set down her glass and tapped her fingers lightly on the counter.
“Every time I pulled His Majesty away, it was for government business. I have no idea which fairies choose to rest on their past laurels after the war, partying every night and caring only about the tiny scraps of their own fiefs. His Majesty and I must watch over all of Snezhnaya. Naturally, I have no patience for lords and dukes who know nothing but how to butter him up with jewels.”
Filins blinked.
“Oh, dear,” he said in a flat tone.
“Is that so?”
Anna narrowed her eyes.
“Perhaps I should sue you for slander, Lord Kirill.”
His bright yellow eyes carried an earnest look that said, *Since we’ve started, we might as well lay it all out.*
“Listen to what you are saying, Your Highness Fyodorovna,” he said softly.
“Among all the Grand Dukes, you alone are addressed as ‘Your Highness.’ Is that not His Majesty’s unique favor toward you?”
Anna froze.
“…What does that have to do with anything?” She frowned.
“I am His Majesty’s appointed heir. Is there a problem with that?”
Filins shook his head.
“You never address the Tsar of White Sands as ‘Father,’ but as ‘His Majesty’ or ‘My Majesty.’ Is that not declaring your sovereignty to the other fairies?”
Anna: “…”
She opened her mouth, closed it, and opened it again.
“This is the first time I’ve ever seen you so idle, Filins. Since when do you care about such matters?”
“Please forgive my presumption, Your Highness. But this matter… involves a wager between Grand Duke Filippov and myself.”
Anna: “?”
“As you know, glittering gems are my one weakness,” Filins’s voice grew lower.
Anna stared at him.
After a long moment, she took a deep breath.
“His Majesty and I share a purely paternal and filial bond,” she said, emphasizing every single word.
“Will that answer earn you the gems you want?”
Filins offered a genuine smile.
“Thank you, Your Highness.”
Anna sneered.
“Ha. You insincere lamp fairy—I don’t hear a shred of gratitude in your voice.”
Filins maintained his smile.
Anna continued, “If I ever catch you lot using His Majesty and me for a bet again—” She paused, seemingly thinking of a harsh threat.
“I will kick your pathetic lamp with my boots, or hang you up in the palace of Kitezh to serve as a lantern.”
“You sound more and more like His Majesty,” Filins remarked with a touch of surprise.
“Lately, when the Grand Dukes joke around, they love using that line about ‘kicking asses with boots.’ It seems everyone has been corrupted by His Majesty.”
Given Moh’s thrill-seeking nature, he never curbed court gossip—how else could he enjoy the drama?
He had been enthusiastically shipping Grand Duke Filippov and his wife’s pure romance, after all.
But if anyone asked him to his face, Moh would deny everything.
Yet no one dared ask.
Thus, the rumors snowballed.
Everyone was betting on when the thin veil would be pierced, or who would confess first.
Father and daughter?
Fairies were repressively oblivious to gender or species bound by human morality; human morals couldn’t trap fairies.
To quote His Majesty—*Hyperboreans, look at the soldiers you raised.*
Anna took a deep breath, and then another.
*Calm down.
You are an elegant Grand Duchess, the heir to Snezhnaya.*
She couldn’t…
“Speaking of which,” Filins spoke up suddenly, his tone as casual as chatting about the weather, “earlier, near the carriage, I overheard a phrase or two between His Majesty and the Anemo Archon.”
Anna looked up at him.
“Something about a ‘tryst’ or ‘rendezvous,'” Filins said.
“Lord Barbatos even asked His Majesty not to close the window. So you see, weren’t you sent out to go shopping by His Majesty…”
Anna: “…”
Anna’s complexion changed visibly.
From pale to flush, and from flushed to beet red—the ice-cold beauty looked as if she had just swallowed a Jueyun Chili.
She clenched her fists.
“—”
Her voice squeezed through her teeth, and she slammed her fist onto the bar counter.
*BANG!*
A crack split open on the wooden bar counter.
Lia was so startled she nearly dropped the glass in her hand.
She stared with wide eyes at the elegant, aloof fairy Grand Duchess.
Anna was bright red, her chest heaving, wearing the completely broken-down expression of someone who had just seen a homewrecker try to steal her mother.
Anna took a deep breath, then another.
Her last shred of sanity told her: *Go back. Enjoying the story? Read on at g.com.
Now.
Immediately.*
She turned to look at Lia.
The red-haired human girl was staring at her in shock, the glass still trembling in her hand.
Anna forced a strained smile.
“Your drinks are very good,” she said, trying her best to flatten her tone.
“I will introduce you to my father.”
Lia opened her mouth.
“Your father is…?”
“The Tsar of White Sands. He likes making friends—whether humans, gods, fairies, or anything else.”
In his own words: *’Teyvat’s destiny is predetermined, but I am an exception.
I hope some of my actions can pry loose the order established by the Heavenly Principles.’*
Anna could not yet fully grasp the meaning behind these words.
She simply chalked it up to Moh’s foresight as a Descender.
Normally, Anna would have chatted with Lia a bit longer, but right now, she had far more pressing matters to verify.
She stood up and burst out of the tavern like a gust of icy wind.
The tavern fell quiet.
Filins shook his head.
*And she claims she isn’t possessive.*
He turned to Lia.
The red-haired human girl was standing frozen behind the bar, holding the glass she had already wiped a dozen times.
Filins offered a reassuring smile.
“I shall compensate for the damage caused by the lady,” he said.
He reached out and placed a neat little pile of shiny gold coins on the counter.
“Thank you for the drinks, Miss Lia. Once I return to the Northland, I fear I won’t easily find a bartender as skilled as you.”
“Oh, it… it’s nothing really, hehe.”
True to his nature as a “glib-tongued” fairy, Filins easily charmed Lia into good spirits with a few pleasant words.
After chatting with Lia briefly about recent changes in Mondstadt, Filins also bade her farewell.
He stood up, adjusted his collar, and walked toward the door, his blue hair vanishing into the sunlight outside.
Silence completely enveloped the tavern.
Lia stood where she was.
After a long moment, she glanced down at the gold coins on the counter, then looked up at the crack in the wood.
Then down at the coins, then up at the crack—repeating this cycle three times.
Then, her brain began to slowly process the information she had just heard.
That lady’s name was Anna, a fairy Grand Duchess.
She was the Tsar of White Sands’ appointed heir.
The Tsar of White Sands was the Cryo Archon, the sovereign of Snezhnaya, an entity on equal footing with the Anemo Archon.
That lady said she would introduce her to her father…
Introduce what?
Introduce her drinks?
The Tsar of White Sands was coming?
Coming to drink her cocktails?
Lia’s hands began to tremble uncontrollably.
She remembered the secret fairy court scandals she had just overheard—some bet, some secret tryst, something about kicking asses with boots.
She recalled the Grand Duchess’s expression when she smashed the bar counter with her fist.
Good heavens, what kind of earth-shattering gossip had she just stumbled upon?
No, wait!
The real point was—was her little tavern about to host an actual god?!
Lia slammed the glass down, leaned her hands against the bar, and took a deep breath.
“Oh my god—!” She released an irrepressible cheer.
“Dad! Mom! Bro!” she screamed at the empty tavern.
“Your little sis made it big—!”
Outside the window, the sun shone brightly, and Mondstadt’s afternoon was as gentle as ever.
Inside this secluded little tavern, however, a red-haired girl was spinning in circles, as thrilled as a squirrel that had just struck honey.