The stars of Teyvat’s false sky watched the world below.
Perhaps they were merely lights suspended across an artificial firmament.
Perhaps they were windows, instruments, or countless silent eyes through which some distant existence observed the continent.
Moonlight flowed over the plains like water, silver and quiet beneath the scattered stars.
Lucian Vale walked with Eula’s reconnaissance company as they returned toward the City of Mondstadt.
Eula remained several paces ahead of the others.
She was their captain, yet the distance between her and her soldiers extended far beyond the physical space separating them.
No one joked with her.
No one casually called out to her.
Even basic conversation seemed restricted to reports, orders, and the formal necessities of a mission.
Lucian watched in silence.
Her circumstances were worse than he had imagined.
A member of the company slowed down and drifted toward him.
The young knight wore an easy smile, though his eyes kept flicking nervously toward Eula’s back.
“Hey, friend,” he whispered.
“I saw you at headquarters this morning.
Being recognized by the Anemo Archon himself—that was impressive.”
He raised a thumb in admiration.
Lucian waved modestly.
“It was nothing.
I simply had good luck.”
Compliments offered by strangers were rarely free.
This man had approached with a purpose, and Lucian had little patience for waiting while he circled around it.
“No, no.
Luck alone could never be enough,” the knight continued.
“You must possess extraordinary qualities.
How else could an ordinary person meet Lord Barbatos?”
Lucian lowered his voice.
“Just say what you want.”
The knight gave a small, awkward laugh.
“Right.
Of course.
It’s nothing serious.”
His eyes shifted toward Eula again.
“I only wanted to ask… what exactly is your relationship with our captain?”
Lucian understood him immediately.
The man had feelings for Eula but lacked the courage to confess.
Now he had seen another man speaking comfortably with her and had come to investigate while pretending not to care.
A common, unimpressive sort of cowardice.
“We’re friends,” Lucian said.
“I think she’s a good person.”
The knight visibly relaxed.
Then his shoulders tightened again.
“Friends?
Then… do you know her family name?”
His voice had risen despite his effort to keep the conversation private.
“Lawrence,” Lucian answered calmly.
The reaction was immediate.
The knight’s expression shifted as though Lucian had spoken the name of a monster.
“And you know what the Lawrence Clan did?”
Lucian stopped walking.
“What does that have to do with Eula?”
His tone changed.
Had the man merely been an anxious admirer, Lucian would have dismissed him with a few jokes.
But his intentions were becoming clear.
This was not concern.
It was sabotage disguised as warning.
He wanted to poison Lucian’s impression of Eula, reduce the competition, and preserve his own fantasy without ever risking rejection.
The knight hesitated.
“How can it have nothing to do with her?
Her name is Lawrence.”
The conviction drained from his voice as he spoke.
Lucian looked him over with increasing disgust.
“I understand now.”
The knight swallowed.
“You came here to speak badly about Eula so I would think less of her.”
“That isn’t—”
“Your thoughts stink worse than sewage left rotting in the summer heat.”
The knight’s mouth fell open.
Lucian did not allow him time to recover.
“If your character were placed beside a pile of filth, even a starving dog would choose the filth.
At least manure can nourish the ground.
You contribute nothing.”
The company’s footsteps began slowing around them.
Several nearby knights turned their heads.
Lucian continued with the steady rhythm of a man reading an official indictment.
“I cannot understand how something like you entered the Knights of Favonius.
Whoever approved your appointment was either blinded by corruption or cursed with judgment as rotten as yours.”
The knight’s face reddened.
“You—”
“You carry the uniform of Mondstadt’s protectors, yet your greatest battle is whispering behind a woman’s back because you are too frightened to speak honestly to her.”
Lucian leaned slightly closer.
“You are unworthy even to judge the dirt on Eula’s boots.”
The young knight’s lips trembled.
Not a single reply emerged.
Lucian’s voice became colder.
“If I were you, I would find the nearest stream, look at my reflection, and ask whether I had the right to desire anyone before learning how to behave like a human being.”
A few soldiers nearby turned away, shoulders shaking.
Lucian delivered the final blow.
“And take back your earlier praise.
Being admired by a fly is an insult.”
He walked away, quickening his pace as though putting distance between himself and a particularly foul smell.
The knight remained frozen behind him.
His name was Brook.
Around the middle of the formation, several soldiers gathered close enough to whisper while pretending to remain alert.
“Do you think Brook managed to convince the man favored by Barbatos to avoid Captain Eula?”
“Convince him?
Brook spends more time slandering the captain than anyone else in the Knights.
He hates the Lawrence Clan more fiercely than people whose families actually suffered under them.”
“Exactly.
From his expression, you would think he came from a family of escaped slaves instead of a wealthy household.”
“Keep your voice down,” another warned.
“A friend of mine in administration once criticized Brook.
Somehow the remark reached his family.
The poor man was reassigned to monster-clearing duty for half a month.”
Several knights grimaced.
Field operations were exhausting even for trained combatants.
An administrator forced into repeated wilderness patrols for two weeks would return half-dead.
“He’s too arrogant.”
“And who is going to stop him?
His family flatters the right nobles and controls several useful offices.
They’re nowhere near the Ragnvindrs, but ordinary knights cannot afford to provoke them.”
“Has anyone reported him?”
“To whom?
Complaints pass through offices influenced by his family.”
The group fell quiet.
Lucian strode past them, expression still severe.
One soldier glanced at Brook, who stood behind them with a twisted, resentful face.
“Look at that.
He must have gone too far.
Lucian is heading straight for Captain Eula.”
Eula heard the whispers behind her.
Anxiety tightened her chest.
Amber had warned her that someone within the company spread malicious stories whenever she was absent.
Eula had never discovered the person’s identity.
Now Lucian had spoken with one of her soldiers.
What had the man told him?
The urge to pull Lucian aside and stop him from listening rose unexpectedly strong.
She hated that impulse.
She had lived with suspicion for years.
Why should the opinion of one man matter so much?
“What’s wrong?”
Lucian’s voice sounded beside her without warning.
Eula jolted.
“When did you get there?”
“I walked.”
“You make no sound when you move.”
“Habit.”
He folded both hands behind his head and walked beside her, looking up at the stars.
“I asked why you’re unhappy.”
“It’s nothing.”
Eula lowered her gaze toward the spring grass beneath their boots.
Lucian looked at her from the corner of his eye.
“I can read minds.”
Eula’s head rose.
“What?”
“If you doubt me, look into my eyes.”
She hesitated, then met his gaze.
Moonlight and starlight reflected within Lucian’s eyes.
For an instant, it seemed as though the night sky had been captured there and refused to leave.
Eula stared longer than she intended.
Lucian looked away first.
“You’re afraid.”
Her heart tightened.
“You’re afraid I’ll believe the rumors and start thinking poorly of you.”
Eula’s composure collapsed.
Could he truly read minds?
The accuracy was too precise to dismiss.
Lucian watched her reaction and smiled.
“That expression confirms it.”
“I am not afraid.”
Eula turned her face away.
“Why would I care what you think?
How narcissistic.”
The tips of her ears reddened beneath the moonlight.
Lucian politely ignored the evidence.
To think he had secretly listened to her thoughts—she would remember this grievance.
Rather than continue teasing her, Lucian pointed behind them.
“That blond fellow is bad news.
He tried to speak against you.”
Eula looked back and identified Brook immediately.
The man’s face remained filled with bitterness.
“You argued with him?”
“I insulted him for a while.”
Lucian shrugged.
“What of it?”
Warmth moved through Eula’s chest.
He had defended her.
The realization pleased her more than it should have.
Then concern followed.
Brook’s family possessed influence.
Lucian was an outsider with no established protection in Mondstadt, regardless of his connection to Barbatos.
He could be dragged into trouble because of her.
“If he wants to talk, let him,” Eula said quietly.
“I’m accustomed to it.”
Lucian stared at her in disbelief.
“So your plan is to remain a target forever?”
Eula frowned.
“Rumors do not disappear merely because I dislike them.”
“Neither do parasites disappear because you politely endure them.”
Lucian lowered his hands.
“You command a reconnaissance company, yet you allow subordinates to smear you behind your back.
Strike one hard enough and the next hundred will reconsider.”
“What would you have me do?”
“Come to the plaza beneath the Anemo Archon’s statue tomorrow morning.”
Eula looked at him.
“Why?”
“I’ll solve it.”
Her confusion deepened.
Restoring a reputation was supposed to require patience.
Trust formed slowly.
Generations of resentment toward the Lawrence Clan could not simply be erased in a single morning.
Could it?
Lucian pointed at her.
“You must come.
Do not break your promise.”
Eula still had no idea what he intended.
Yet the certainty in his voice made refusal difficult.
“All right.”
“Good.”
Lucian resumed walking as though the matter were settled.
Eula watched him for a moment before following.
She had no idea how lively the City of Mondstadt was about to become.
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