Over the next several weeks, her routine practically wrote itself. Sword practice in the early morning on the beach, taking care of any correspondence for either herself for Jun Lei, and the occasional stop for breakfast when the schedule allowed it.
Or, in some cases, her morning was entirely hers as long as she finished her errands on time. Bolts of fabric, packages of specially-spun spools of thread, reinforced sheers from the blacksmith, gems from a Sumeran ship that hadn't even finished its inventory count. All obtained and delivered with time to spare. Time that was likely meant to be spent collecting information but that could be done anywhere.
More often than not, she found herself next door. Mr. Yuan's tea shop was small, a narrow space with enough seating for perhaps ten people altogether. But Jun Lei was right; the tea here was second-to-none and the respectful silence that dominated the space made for a good place to think.
Karina skimmed the quick notes she jotted down, the flyer of Baptisia folded and tucked into the lining of the small book she kept on her. A new opera singer, Sneznhayan trained; a humble Fontaine girl who spent the remainder of her time helping the poor.
No one could name her village, where she came from. And she never revealed as such in any printed interviews.
It didn't make sense. Unless the faces of the dead could be stolen from their graves. Or a body re-animated.
Both went against respect for the dead, something every nation had.
She lifted her cup to her lips and Karina's sigh faded into the liquid warmth. Maybe she was simply looking at it too closely. Anyone she spoke to had nothing but accolades and praise for the singer who brought life to all classes in Fontaine; no one ever had a bad word about her sister, either, but it was impossible to miss that her next heartbeat hadn't come that day after it shuddered in finality.
She closed the notebook, brought her cup and pot to the counter, and left a neat stack of mora next to it for her tip. There were projects to be worked on and repairs to make, even if she had earned the time to herself.
Hope made people do and think that the impossible was, in fact, possible. And her stock of it ran out long ago.
Of course it had to rain, Karina thought as she stepped into the tea shop.
Her one day off during the week and it was gray and miserable with a distant rumbling of thunder. It made for a dismal trip around the harbor for groceries and other supplies, and an even worse atmosphere to remain home in.
Keeping busy and not staying in the tiny apartment was easier, better , when a thunderstorm came near. Her blood seemed to vibrate, seeking out that which was as familiar to her as the air she breathed. It was distracting. Frustrating.
Somehow, her feet carried her to the tiny tea shop of their own accord, and she found herself wondering which seat was truly still available. After all, everyone else seemed to have the same idea to keep out of the downpour.
She placed her order and Mr. Yuan noted that her usual spot was free, so long as she didn't mind the gentlemen sitting across. Part of her wondered if he reserved it for her in anticipation or if no one particularly wanted that seat.
She went to claim her space before anyone else could, shedding her soaked jacket carefully as she did. Among the silk and vibrant colors, she felt out of place wearing nothing more than a simple starch-white blouse and waist-high trousers, the noctilucous jade pinned at the base of her throat. She so rarely got to wear it that she'd grabbed it on a whim but now it managed to retain the cold from the rain, uncomfortably so.
"Excuse me, is this seat taken?" Karina asked without a second glance.
"Not at all. Please help yourself."
That voice...
Strangers were fine. Most of the time, there was a respectful acknowledgement of space and they left one another to their own devices with little need for conversation.
Karina found herself pausing as she went to hang her coat, taking in the pattern of the occupant of the nearby hook. A beautiful piece, stunning in its craftsmanship, one she'd seen before. But...
She glanced at the other table's occupant to find him holding the tiny cup with two hands; one of the bottom and the other around the porcelain, cradling it as though it was a precious stone.
And none of the strangers she saw around Liyue had eyes of molten gold.
A better person might call it kismet, fate. But Liyue was large and crowded and this was one of the best teahouses this side of the harbor. A hidden gem that even the best connoisseurs could miss. Karina had hoped their first encounter wasn't their last, their only.
But the last time something simply landed into her lap because she longed for it, things went very, very wrong.
Zhongli seemed to sense her hesitation and he smiled, the knot in her stomach untwisted the way a flower would under the warmth of the sun.
"Karina, correct? I hope Liyue has been to your liking so far, mademoiselle ."
Karina drew her eyes away long enough to hang her coat before taking a seat, careful to accommodate the man's longer legs as well. She swallowed the little flutter she felt at the knowledge that he remembered her, especially when their meeting was so fleeting. It had no place here and she could not let herself be easily swayed at the smallest notion of attention; she trained to withstand more than mere distraction.
"It's certainly a change of pace from Mondstadt," she replied. "The laws of commerce and contracts are quite a leap from loose guidelines and whims."
"They are. The structure is one of the many elements that so many of the inhabitants here find to be reassuring. There is a comforting certainty in the exactitude of binding contracts."
Karina shifted to allow room for the server, who placed the tiny porcelain cup in front of her, poured, and then left the pot on the other warming stand on the table. It left little surface space on an already-tiny table.
The Earl Grey tea had a note of lavender in it that she hoped would calm her nerves. That wish flew out the window when her leg brushed his and a murmur of apology came from both sides of the table, their proximity a by-product of the crowded space.
He was attractive, yes, but they had only had one previous conversation. Was she that starved for companionship, for someone outside of her own realm of Abyss and Fatui tracking?
For supposed normality?
"A wish choice of tea," Zhongli commented once they were both settled again. "Mr. Yuan roasts the tea leaves and lavender in such a way that it is unable to be reproduced elsewhere. Many come to this shop just for his handiwork alone."
"It was one of the first recommendations when I came here weeks ago. I believe I'm about halfway through the menu at this point."
"I am surprised that I do not see you here more often, then. I frequent this shop quite a bit when work brings me to this quarter. Mr. Yuan is one of the only tea-makers in Liyue with a legacy that rivals even that of Rex Lapis."
"I usually come here just around opening, once my morning tasks next door are finished."
"Our paths must just miss one another. I usually find the later morning lull to be just as peaceful, under normal weather conditions."
They settled into an easy silence and some of her nerves melted away with a first, and then a second, sip of tea.
"If I may, what is it like to transition to a new Archon? Liyue has never experienced anything other than the rule of Rex Lapis, I imagine it is hardly like weaving a snapped thread back into place and continuing with a new strand."
Karina leaned back in her chair, her right hand idly falling to her Vision as her left remained on her tea cup, tracing the careful details of the paint. The stone was cold beneath her hand, as it always seemed to ever since that day, although it was impossible to miss the low hum in her blood and the prickling of the hair on her arms, her neck. Thunderstorms always promised more and never delivered, never quite connecting her and the dormant power beneath her fingers.
"In truth, I've never thought much of it. The Gendarmerie leaves no room for speculation, for your own ideas."
"You served?"
Most were surprised when she admitted it. Zhongli barely batted an eyelash and spoke with a tone of understanding, one that said volumes in a single word. Many were oblivious to the kind of duty such a service entailed, especially in prosperous lands in a time of peace; for the man across from her, that didn't seem to be the case.
"My academic choices led me straight into service by the time I was eighteen. I suppose my blessing at fifteen helped matters," Karina exhaled softly. "We've had our share of Archons over the years but as people and civilizations change, so too does the meaning of justice, of the tribunal that appraises us. As does art, literature, fashion, technology. Sometimes, the transition is more peaceful than others. The current Archon is...fickle."
Zhongli was quiet, his gaze gentle but pensive as he took another sip of tea. She expected some kind of reaction to the way she almost spat her last word but none came. Just the patience of a listener, an audience member of a storyteller.
Not many bothered to care about the intricacies of Fontaine's transitions.
"The previous Archon was the one who gifted myself and my sister with our Visions. Her replacement...well, let's just say that the Lochfolk were far from pleased."
"Understandably so; the devotion of elemental beings is unparalleled. Change can be difficult to accept when one's entire existence has centered around a particular individual. I presume you mean this in regards to both species?"
She raised an eyebrow as she brought her cup to her lips to distract herself, her other hand still tracing the filigree of her Vision. "It's rare that anyone outside of the region even knows about that, most think all Oceanid are the same."
"An easy mistake to make at first glance. It is only when the water is tasted that the distinction can be made. Those who have quenched their thirst on sweet water often speak of a spring fairy's favor. On the other hand, the water near Qingce to the north has been bitter for some time. If one is to believe word of mouth, such a taste is due to an Oceanid by the name of Rhodeia."
Zhongli spoke of a trait only experienced by those who happened to run into Lochfolk directly. It was not inherently suspicious but it was strange enough; he had the look of a city man who did not spend his days wandering for adventure.
"If I am not mistaken, the Lochfolk are the Hydro Archon's network across Teyvat," he said. "Spies among the rivers, lakes, and ponds; water is as accessible and...pervasive...as wind or earth, after all."
"Calling them spies may depend on the perspective, I think. Many have left in defiance, refusing to swear fealty and refusing to acknowledge the change. They seek a peaceful, quiet home, but separating from their homeland brings its own set of difficulties."
Her lips wanted to form additional words but she stopped herself. It would be disrespectful to admit that she, too, refused the Archon, especially when she did not know nor understand Zhongli's view of faith.
Perhaps she said too much already.
She stopped rubbing the round gemstone and brought her hand back up to the table, cupping the porcelain in both hands and taking a savoring sip. Karina hoped that Zhongli entirely missed the tremor that seemed to vibrate through her body, the burning behind her eyes that threatened her at the thought of the Court of Mirrors, of Judgment, of the injustice of the lives she failed to...
"I hope you are able to find your peace here, then, mademoiselle . Our origins do not define our home, nor should they."
The words from anyone else might have been an axe through the dam she was desperately trying to keep from breaking. But the steadiness with which he spoke seemed to provide the last piece to fortify, rather than shatter, her composure. No wonder he spent his days comforting families of lost loved ones and following rite and ritual.
Karina could only mouth her thanks, her voice lost in her throat. Gentle though his words had been, she didn't trust herself just yet to speak.
"Would you mind if our paths crossed more? I find that tea is often better when shared with company instead of one's own thoughts."
The request took her back for a second and her agony sank back into the recesses of her heart. She wasn't here for this, for connection, for friendship.
But hadn't she promised herself to try? Surely not everyone was prey for her misfortune to swallow whole?
Karina finished the last of the tea in her cup to keep her composure as he tidied up his side of the table before rising to gather his coat.
"That would be enjoyable, as long as it does not interfere with your schedule. I'm sure you're quite busy."
"On the contrary, I find myself with ample time at present. In fact, I cannot think of a better way to start a day."
The stone at the base of her throat seemed to warm with the smile that returned her own. It should be criminal for anyone to smile like that, in a way that always reached their eyes and managed to cheer and calm all at once without a single drop of pity. Would that change, too, if he knew?
The crowd had thinned and he slid on his coat with practiced grace, the fabric bone dry. How long had he been here, she wondered.
"Be sure to keep warm, one can easily catch cold in such weather," Zhongli said, before presenting her with another bow, a gesture that would have been impossible earlier.
She watched him depart before she poured herself another cup, her eyes falling to the waitstaff, who kept on with their tasks after a brief bow upon his departure.
Had no one noticed he hadn't paid?
Even during the day, the staff were as sharp and quick as arrows to notice even the smallest need for customers; surely an unpaid bill would not go unnoticed?
It seemed, however, she was quite wrong, as no one saw fit to even look to see which way he may have gone. His cup and teapot were whisked away with a polite smile and she hid the frown tugging at her mouth with another sip, bergamot and lavender running across her taste buds.
If there was one thing that the Cathedral incident taught her, it was that some things were best left alone. Or not brought up without enough proof, obtained in a way that didn't put anyone else at risk. She wouldn't make that mistake again.
Perhaps instead she would make another trip to pick up additional materials, she was running low on flour. After all, what was tea with a possible friend without food to share?