The White Tsar from Snezhnaya and the Archon of Wind were conversing happily within the carriage.
Yet, the accompanying fairy guards dared not disturb them.
They guarded the perimeter of the carriage, backs straight, eyes forward, yet their ears were all pricked up in unison.
The occasional laughter and sound of a harp emanating from the carriage made them exchange glances; His Majesty and that Archon of Wind seemed to be getting along quite well.
As for the Mondstadt side?
Absolutely no one knew that the Archon of Wind had snuck out to chat with the White Tsar.
Ever since Barbatos helped his people overthrow the rule of the aristocrats, he had rarely shown himself.
He would occasionally descend upon the newly built Favonius Cathedral, but more often, he designated the Knights of Favonius Grand Master, Vennessa, as his proxy to issue directives on major policy directions.
The Archon of Wind, much like the “freedom” he championed, was elusive and rarely seen.
When Anastasia and Vennessa finished coordinating the arrangements for the refugees and noticed that the honor guard had been inactive for quite some time, both realized something was amiss.
Anastasia summoned the imperial guard.
The guard lowered his head and reported, “Lord Barbatos, the Archon of Wind, is in your carriage conversing with His Majesty.”
Anastasia: “…”
She turned to look at Vennessa.
This Southern Wind Knight, the Grand Master crowned with the title of “Lionfang,” also displayed clear surprise on her face.
“The Archon of Wind?” Vennessa raised an eyebrow.
“How did he end up over there?”
Anastasia did not answer.
She looked up at her own carriage; the door was tightly shut, and a warm light vaguely shone from within.
Two Archons were inside.
Because the White Tsar was a ruling Archon just like the Archon of Wind, the scale of the reception naturally rose accordingly.
When Mondstadt learned that the White Tsar from Snezhnaya had arrived at the border, almost all the prominent figures had come.
The Knights of Favonius Grand Master, Vennessa, wore silver armor and a sword at her waist, her signature red hair particularly striking under the sunlight.
The Bishop of the Favonius Cathedral, holding a staff and dressed in white robes, had a solemn expression.
The head of the Gunnhildr Clan, that noblewoman whose family motto was “Endurance,” brought her eldest son.
The head of the Ragnvindr Clan was a middle-aged man with a composed demeanor.
There were also several veteran figures who had achieved great military merit for the city of Mondstadt.
They lined up before the pass, waiting to welcome the Archon from the northern realm who had come from afar.
However, right now, the two Archons were huddled in a carriage, doing heaven knows what.
Vennessa sighed softly.
Her ancestors came from a tribe in Natlan but had long been exiled; she was a refugee wandering the wilderness from birth, only to be captured by the aristocrats as a gladiator for their amusement.
Vennessa was not originally accustomed to these aristocratic etiquettes, but over the years, she had learned a thing or two about social interactions and had become familiar with the ways of the nobility through observation.
She knew what kind of personality her Archon of Wind had.
“Sigh.”
Hopefully, he wouldn’t leave a strange impression on the foreign Archon.
“Perhaps the Grand Duchess and I should welcome the two Archons together.” Vennessa turned to Anastasia, her tone sincere.
Anastasia nodded: “Mm.”
The two arrived near the carriage; the door remained tightly shut.
Anastasia and Vennessa exchanged a look, neither stepping forward to disturb them.
—Perhaps the Cryo Archon and the Archon of Wind were discussing some major matter.
They stood quietly not far away, waiting.
But the wait was a bit long, and Vennessa broke the silence first.
She spoke, “I have long heard of the reputation of the Grand Duchess of the Snezhnaya Court of the Pale Star; seeing you today, your reputation is well-deserved.”
Anastasia nodded slightly: “I have also long heard of Grand Master Vennessa’s renown.
Leading the people to overthrow the rule of the aristocrats single-handedly is truly admirable.”
Vennessa replied with the straightforwardness characteristic of a warrior: “We were pushed to the brink back then.
However, the Archon of Wind has always stood by our side.” Enjoying the story? Read on at g.com.
Anastasia heard the respect for Barbatos in her tone.
She did not say more, simply following the topic: “The wind of freedom in Mondstadt is truly enviable; Snezhnaya does not have such warm and gentle winds.”
As they chatted, they gradually moved from pleasantries to practical matters.
Vennessa brought it up: “I hear that Snezhnaya is lacking in resources, especially grain and vegetables?”
Anastasia did not deny it: “The northern realm is frigid, and the land is barren; we truly cannot grow much.”
“Mondstadt’s agricultural production is outstanding.” Vennessa was straightforward: “Fruits, livestock, and wheat—we have a surplus every year.
If the Grand Duchess is interested, we could establish long-term trade.”
Anastasia looked up.
“Mondstadt is willing to trade with Snezhnaya?”
“Why wouldn’t we be?” Vennessa smiled.
“Mondstadters believe in freedom, which includes forming friendships and trade with neighboring countries, not to mention—”
She glanced at the tightly shut carriage door.
“The two Archons are in there laughing and chatting; we subordinates certainly shouldn’t hold them back.”
Anastasia pondered for a moment.
“What Snezhnaya can offer is the special craftsmanship of fairy artifacts.
The fairies’ aesthetic follows the level of His Majesty, making them quite famous in the luxury industry.
Merchants from Sumeru and Fontaine have always sought to purchase them.”
Vennessa’s eyes lit up.
“That’s perfect.
Mondstadt doesn’t have much demand for luxury goods, but we can re-export them to other countries.”
Thus, while the two Archons were behind closed doors doing heaven knows what.
The two ladies had already reached a deal for the import of agricultural products, plus a framework agreement for re-export trade.
Inside the carriage.
The two Archons, who were not keen on state affairs, were indeed not doing anything productive.
They were making music.
“I think this part could use this chord—” Barbatos plucked the lyre, and a string of clear notes flowed out.
Morgan listened, nodded thoughtfully, then picked up his violin and played a melody that echoed it.
The two strains of music intertwined.
One light as the wind, the other crisp as snow.
Unexpectedly harmonious.
“Sounds great!” Barbatos’s eyes lit up.
“Keep going, keep going—try this key change again?”
Morgan put down his violin and pondered for a moment: “With just the two of us playing, might it be a bit thin?
Should we bring in the musicians from my honor guard to accompany us?”
“Don’t worry about it—” Barbatos waved his hand.
“I’ll play the lyre, you play the violin; we’ll definitely wow the crowd.
It’s a gathering of the Seven, after all.
It’s our first time meeting; shouldn’t we show off a little?”
Morgan was amused by his confidence; just as he was about to say something, his expression suddenly paused.
“…Wait.” He cocked his head to listen.
“Why do I hear Anastasia’s voice?”
Barbatos blinked: “That adopted daughter of yours?
She must be outside.”
“She’s back.
How about…
we actually do something productive?”
Barbatos tilted his head to look at him, mischievous laughter in his emerald eyes.
“Discussing the repertoire for the banquet of the Archons—isn’t that productive?”
Morgan choked.
“Fine.” Barbatos stood up and straightened his divine attire.
“I’ll come find you again later.
Just don’t close the window; consider it another appointment after this one.”
Morgan: “…”
He looked at Barbatos’s completely oblivious face.
“Why do you make it sound like we need to hide something?”
Barbatos paused for a moment, then revealed a meaningful smile.
“That’s not impossible, you know.
Why not treat this as a secret rendezvous?”
“?”
“You wouldn’t want your daughter to know about you playing around with other Archons, would you?”
No, this Inazuma—oh wait, this Mondstadt netizen is just too—
That expression on Barbatos, emm.
Morgan: ( ⩌ – ⩌ )
Whatever, I won’t hold it against this wind spirit.
The moment the carriage door finally opened, everyone waiting outside subconsciously stood up straight.
Anastasia and Vennessa stood at the very front, with the Mondstadt representatives and a group of fairies behind them.
From inside the carriage, the two Archons walked out one after the other.
Barbatos, walking in front, had a leisurely demeanor, while Morgan, following behind, looked composed.
The two stood together, one light as the wind, the other cold and clear as snow.
The vibe was unexpectedly harmonious.
Vennessa scrutinized her own Archon of Wind’s expression—it was one of satisfaction, as if he had just done something that made him particularly happy.
Her heart skipped a beat.
“Lord Archon of Wind, what exactly were you doing just now?”
“You didn’t go and ply someone with alcohol again, did you?
The last time you—”
But Barbatos was already waving at her with a smile.
“Vennessa!
You’ve been waiting a long time, haven’t you?”
Vennessa lowered her eyes, her tone respectful: “Not long, Lord Archon of Wind.
We were just chatting with the Grand Duchess about the import of agricultural products.”
Barbatos blinked.
“Agricultural products?”
He turned to look at Morgan, and Morgan also blinked, looking at the other person.
“…Anastasia?”
Anastasia’s expression was calm: “His Majesty granted me full diplomatic authority.
Reaching an agricultural trade and re-export agreement with Mondstadt should be within that authority.”
Then he nodded slightly: “Good.”