“Your possessiveness over His Majesty is far too intense.” He said.
Anastasia: “?”
Philins continued, “It’s not just me; many fairies have had things made by His Majesty.
That is His Majesty’s wish—it is better to share joy with others than to enjoy it alone.”
Anastasia was silent for a moment.
“No.” She said, “Weren’t we talking about drinking?
When was I ever possessive?”
Philins looked at her.
That gaze seemed to be saying, “Do you really not know?”
“Last time.” He spoke up, “His Majesty finally managed to attend the banquet hosted by Grand Duke Serivik.
Before His Majesty had even sat for five minutes, you called him away.”
Anastasia frowned.
“That was because of urgent state affairs.”
“When His Majesty was dining with other Grand Dukes.” Philins continued, “There was never a smile on your face.”
“That’s because they talk too much nonsense, never discussing actual business, only fawning over him.”
“And the time before that…”
“Wait.” Anastasia raised a hand to interrupt him, “Stop.”
She took a deep breath, “In your eyes, am I a jealous fairy?”
Philins did not answer directly.
He picked up his glass and took another sip.
“You know.” He said, “I am not keen on that kind of socializing.
But these matters…
still reached my ears.”
Anastasia sneered, “They are truly idle.”
She put down her glass, her fingertips tapping lightly on the bar counter.
“I call His Majesty away only because of state affairs.
I don’t know which fairies are lying on their laurels after the war, partying every night, caring only about the petty trifles of their own territories.
His Majesty and I have to concern ourselves with the entirety of Snezhnaya.
For those nobles who only know how to fawn by offering treasures, naturally, I have no good expression for such fairies.”
Philins blinked.
“Oh my god.” He said, his tone flat, “Is that true?”
Anastasia narrowed her eyes, “Perhaps I should sue you for slander, Lord Krylov.”
Philins put down his glass and turned around to face Anastasia directly.
In his golden eyes was a sense of calm that said, “Since I’ve started, I might as well finish it.”
“Listen to what you are saying, Her Highness Feodorovna.” His tone was very light.
“Among all the Grand Dukes, only you can be called ‘Your Highness’.
Is this not His Majesty’s unique love for you?”
Anastasia was stunned.
“…What is this about now?” She frowned, “I am the Crown Prince designated by His Majesty; is there a problem with that?”
Philins shook his head.
“You never call the White Tsar [Father], but rather [Your Majesty], [My Majesty].
Is that not declaring sovereignty to other fairies?”
Anastasia: “…”
She opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again.
“This is the first time I’ve seen you so idle, Philins.
Since when do you care about these things?”
“Please forgive my presumption.
But this matter…
involves a bet between me and Grand Duke Filippov.”
“You know, I have no defense against shiny gemstones.” Philins’ voice grew lower and lower.
Anastasia looked at him.
After a long while, she took a deep breath.
“My relationship with His Majesty is purely father and daughter.” She said, enunciating every word, “Can this answer get you the gemstones you want?”
Philins revealed a sincere smile, “Thank you, Your Highness.”
Anastasia sneered, “Hmph.”
“You hypocritical Lamp Spirit, I don’t hear any gratitude in your emotion.”
Philins maintained his smile.
Anastasia continued, “Next time I find out you are using me and His Majesty as a wager—” She paused, seemingly thinking about what harsh words to say.
“I will use my boot to kick your broken lamp hard, or hang you in the palace of Kitezh as a lantern.”
“You are becoming more and more like His Majesty in the way you speak.” Philins said, his tone carrying a hint of surprise.
“Recently, when the Grand Dukes joke around, they also like to use the phrase ‘kick your ass hard with a boot’; it seems everyone has been corrupted by His Majesty.”
With Morgan’s mentality as a troll, he never suppressed palace gossip—otherwise, how would he enjoy the drama?
He shipped that pure-love couple, Filippov, very enthusiastically.
But if anyone asked him to his face, Morgan would deny it.
Yet no one dared to ask.
Thus, the suspicion grew larger and larger.
Everyone was betting—when this layer of window paper would be pierced, or who would pursue whom first.
You say father-daughter relationship?
Fairies are sexually repressed beings who don’t distinguish between men, women, or beasts; human moral values cannot confine fairies.
To borrow a phrase from His Majesty—Hyperboreans, look at the soldiers you’ve raised.
Anastasia took a deep breath, then another.
—Calm down.
You are an elegant Grand Duchess, the Crown Prince of Snezhnaya.
She could not…
“Speaking of which.” Philins suddenly spoke, his tone as casual as if he were chatting about today’s weather.
“Earlier, I heard a word or two of conversation between His Majesty and the Anemo Archon near the carriage.”
Anastasia looked up at him.
“Something about a ‘tryst’ or something.” Philins said, “The Anemo Archon even told His Majesty not to close the window.
Look, aren’t you being sent out for a stroll by His Majesty…”
Anastasia: “…”
Anastasia’s complexion changed visibly.
From white to red, from red to even redder; the ice beauty now looked like she had eaten a spicy chili pepper.
She clenched her fists.
“—”
Her voice squeezed out from between her teeth, and then she slammed her hand up, smashing her fist onto the bar counter.
Bang!
The wooden bar counter cracked open.
Lia was so scared that the glass in her hand almost dropped to the ground.
She widened her eyes, looking at that elegant and cold fairy Grand Duchess.
Anastasia was now flushed red, her chest heaving, with a look of being completely broken, like someone who had “seen a blond guy stealing their mother.”
Anastasia took a deep breath, then another.
The last bit of her reason was telling her: Go back, now, immediately, right now.
She turned to look at Lia.
That red-haired human girl was staring at her in shock, the glass in her hand still shaking.
Anastasia squeezed out a rather forced smile.
“Your drinks are very good.” She tried her best to keep her voice level, “I will recommend you to my father.” Get faster updates on g.com.
Lia opened her mouth.
“Your father is…?”
“The White Tsar; he likes making friends.
Whether it’s humans, gods, fairies, or anything else.”
In his own words—’The fate of Teyvat is fixed, but I am an exception.
I hope that some of my actions can pry open the Order established by the Heavenly Principles.’
Anastasia could not yet fully understand the meaning of these words.
She only took it as some kind of deep foresight on Morgan’s part as a Descender.
Normally, Anastasia would chat with Lia for a while longer, but now, Anastasia had more important things to confirm.
She stood up and rushed out of the tavern like a gust of frost wind.
The tavern fell silent.
Philins shook his head; and she even said her possessiveness wasn’t high.
He turned to look at Lia.
That red-haired human girl was standing blankly behind the bar, still holding the glass she had wiped countless times.
Philins revealed a soothing smile.
“I will compensate for the damage caused by that lady.” He said.
He reached out and placed a small pile of shiny little gold coins on the bar counter.
“Thank you for your drinks, Miss Lia.
If I return to the North, I fear I will never find a bartender as skilled as you again.”
“It, it’s nothing, hehe.”
Philins was truly a “honey-tongued” fairy; in just a few moments, he used other words to coax Lia into being happy.
After talking with Lia about the recent changes in Mondstadt, Philins also bid her farewell.
He stood up, adjusted his clothes, and walked toward the door, his blue hair disappearing into the sunlight outside.
The tavern became completely quiet, and Lia stood where she was.
For a long while, she looked down at the gold coins on the bar, then looked up at the crack.
She looked at the coins again, then looked up at the crack again, repeating this three times.
Then, her brain began to slowly process the information she had just heard.
That lady was named Anastasia, and she was a Grand Duchess of the fairies.
She was the Crown Prince designated by the White Tsar.
The White Tsar was the Cryo Archon, the King of Snezhnaya, and an existence on the same level as the Anemo Archon.
That lady said she would recommend her to her father…
recommend what?
Recommend her drinks?
The White Tsar would come?
To drink the alcohol she mixed?
Lia’s hands began to tremble with Parkinson’s-like shaking.
She recalled the fairy court secrets she had just heard—something about a wager, something about a tryst, something about kicking butts with boots.
She remembered the expression on that Grand Duchess’s face when she smashed the bar counter with one punch.
Oh my god, what kind of earth-shattering gossip had she just consumed?
No, that’s not right; the point is—her little tavern was going to host a god?
Lia slammed the glass down, braced her hands on the bar, and took a deep breath.
“Oh my god—!” She let out an irrepressible cheer.
“Dad!
Mom!
Brother!” She shouted at the empty tavern.
“Your little sister has made it big—!”
Outside the window, the sunlight was just right; the afternoon in Mondstadt was as gentle as always.
But in this secluded little tavern, a red-haired girl was spinning in circles on the spot, as excited as a squirrel that had stolen some honey.