Author's Note: I know I didn't post anything last weekend, so please skip down to the chapter if you just want to get on with the story.
For everyone reading this fanfic I have to say thank you.
Honestly, you have no idea how much your reviews, favorites, follows, and general engagement with this story mean to me. It never fails to put a smile on my face whenever I receive an email alert from one of you guys interacting with this story in some way.
This story involves an unusual pairing with two somewhat unpopular characters and yet the amount of support and encouragement I've received from you all has been amazing.
So once again, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.
Chapter Twenty: Invitation
"I'm in love, Jean. I'm in love with a harbinger."
Silence abounds beneath the shade of the sacred tree as the acting Grand Master considers her sister's confession. Clutching her hands together, Barbara watches as the sheen of realization finally appears within Jean's pale blue eyes. She shifts to meet the songstress' gaze and Barbara's heart skips several beats when she notes the sadness reflected within her older sister's eyes.
"J-Jean I'm sorry. I know you must be disappointed in me but I—"
"Barbara," the acting Grand Master interrupts with a soft sigh. "Nothing you could do could ever disappoint me. You're my sister and I…I love you. Always. No matter what."
The Deaconess feels a surge of emotion at these words as she dashes into her older sister's arms, clinging unto her for dear life. She buries her face into her chest with a relieved sigh. Jean's palms come to rest at either side of her face as she pulls away briefly to hold the songstress' teary gaze before planting a soft kiss against her forehead and pulling her closer.
They remain like that for several moments, reveling in the familiar comfort of the other's embrace, each far too reluctant to sever contact too soon. A gentle breeze sweeps through the meadow reminiscent of those lovely spring evenings before their parents' divorce when they brought them to the base of the sacred tree to admire the glowing sunset.
"What a wonderful breeze," the Dandelion Knight notes with an appreciative smile as she finally releases her sister. "Reminds me of those afternoons when mother and father would bring us out here for a picnic and we would all stay out flying kites and telling stories until sunset when we would return to the city."
"I really miss those days," Barbara sighs deeply.
"Yes," Jean agrees. "I do too."
"B-but y-you know," the Deaconess pauses, flushing slightly as her sister shifts to watch her now. "W-we c-could always c-come out here fo-for a picnic. On a Sa-Saturday or something. I-if y-you're not busy that is."
"Of course, Barbara," the acting Grand Master responds with a smile. "I'd love that. I feel—I'd love to catch up with you more."
Barbara abruptly turns away, intent on concealing the sheen of unshed tears forming in her eyes as she desperately tries to rein in her emotions lest she embarrass her older sister.
The pain and awkwardness of their parents' separation had parted them during the bulk of Barbara's prepubescent years robbing them of the constant intimacy they had enjoyed in her early childhood. Although they had slowly but surely rebuilt their bond over the years, their time apart had sown uncertainty and hesitation within for they were each far too polite to expect or presume anything of the other, and far too timid to outright ask.
"I-I'd love that too, J-Jean," Barbara manages with a small smile as she accepts the handkerchief her sister offers timidly.
"Then it's settled," Jean nods. "Starting next week, we'll meet back here every evening for an hour to rest and catch up."
The Deaconess lowers her eyes, suddenly downcast. The Dandelion Knight notices the change in her demeanor and approaches her to check on her.
"Just an hour?" The songstress asks with a deeply sad sigh.
"For now," the acting Grand Master assures her. "U-until Grand Master Varka returns from his expedition at least. After all, I can't leave the city unsupervised for too long now."
Barbara feels a swell of happiness bubbling within and embraces her older sister once more. As she pulls away, she notes the crease of concern tugging at the Dandelion Knight's lips and feels a flicker of panic.
"W-what's w-wrong, big sister?"
"Sorry, Barbara. I just…what you said earlier. About loving the Harbinger," the acting Grand Master says quietly rubbing the bridge of her nose. "I feel like it's my fault that you feel that way."
"What…what do you mean?" the Deaconess presses suddenly wide-eyed.
"I should have told you this," she sighs turning to give Barbara an apologetic look. "A long time ago. I'm sorry. U-unlike you…I'm not used to…being very open with my feelings."
"I'm sorry, I don't understand."
"I'm t-talking about love," the Dandelion Knight explains flushing visibly now as she rubs the back of her neck awkwardly. "You see as your big sister, it is my responsibility to guide you and help you make sense of your romantic feelings by providing you with a…uh…suitable…er…example to follow. I'm sorry. I'm not very good at this. Did any of that make any sense?"
Barbara cannot help the bashful smile that tugs at the corners of her cheeks. Seeing the normally unflappable Dandelion Knight so flustered was such an endearing sight that she forces her eyes away for fear of her heart exploding.
"I think so," she mumbles at last. "But L-Lisa told me that you and M-Master D-Diluc were together…you know romantically."
"I er! Oh, she did," Jean sighs closing her eyes. "I'm sorry you had to find out like that. I kept meaning to tell you, but it was never a good time."
"Oh, my so it's true!" Barbara squeals rushing forward to grab her older sister's hand as she watches her earnestly. "I'm so happy for you both! Does mother know? Oh, I'm sure she would be thrilled. Father always said she kept trying to push him to approach M-Master Diluc's father about betrothing him to you. Oh, dear! This is marvelous news! Please tell me how it happened? Ha-have you kissed? Wh-when w-will y-you get married?"
"M-married?!" The Dandelion Knight repeats thoroughly alarmed. "Oh, no no Barbara. Th-things are s-till very early between us. While we have kissed and do try to make time for each other our schedules are so demanding that we've not really had much time to discuss the future."
"Oh, that's so wonderful sister. I'm so happy for you," the songstress informs her through tears of joy. "Master Diluc is a great man. He will make a good husband."
"T-thank you Barbara. But I'd rather talk about you and your Harbinger," the acting Grand Master presses gently.
At the sound of her lover's title, the Deaconess's features redden significantly, and she promptly dissolves into a crying dithering mess. The Dandelion Knight is right there at her side to console her and hugs her closely as the songstress muffles her wails within the folds of her blouse.
Unable to face her older sister but unwilling to bear her secret any longer, Barbara confesses to their sordid tryst at the Liuli Pavilion. Although she feels her sister stiffen as she quietly recounts her first time, the acting Grand Master's hand never retracts from the crown of her head where it settles into a slow and gentle rhythm.
"I see," Jean muses quietly as the songstress concludes her tale. "Well, what makes you think that you love him?"
A long time passes where Barbara can only blink up at her sister in confusion as she considers a suitable response.
"He…he…I offered to become a harbinger," she confesses sheepishly. "T-to u-understand him better."
"Oh dear, this is a lot more serious than I thought," the acting Grand Master admits, suddenly overwhelmed.
"I know," Barbara sniffles. "I'm so torn. On the one hand, I really care about him and want to help him but on the other hand, I'm frightened of him and what he has done in his archon's name."
"Where is he now?"
"I'm not sure. He says he has a mission in Fontaine, but he wouldn't tell me more," Barbara explains quietly. "I know I'm an idiot for caring so much about him and chasing him when I know that he can never change but I—I don't know. I think about him every day. His voice. His eyes. His face. I wonder if he thinks about me too. I know he's strong and all but I just get so worried about him."
"Do you remember the tale of Amos and Decarabian?" Jean asks softly changing the subject, shifting slightly to face the sacred tree.
"Y-yes. Cardinal Calvin gave a sermon about it last week and is planning another one for the Windblume festival," the Deaconess replies.
"The story goes that Amos loved the King of Gales so fully and followed him blindly, slaying all who dared oppose or besmirch his sacred name. And then one day she met a young nameless bard accompanied by a small wind spirit who sang songs of the many marvels of the outside world and accused her beloved of tyranny. When she confronted them, they exposed the suffering of the people and begged her to intercede with her lover on their behalf. Truly moved by her people's plight, she approached the Lord of the Tower and pleaded with him to lower his impenetrable wind shields enclosing the city.
"But he was outraged by the very request and soon cast her out of the tower, leaving her no choice but to align with the bard and his growing allies. Together they sowed the seeds of rebellion within the city and fanned the flames of dissent encouraging Mondstadt to finally take up arms against its oppressor. When the battle finally broke, Amos led their troops to her lover's bed-chamber, intent on forcing him to see reason. But when he saw her leading his enemies into battle, he flew into an earthshattering rage, hurling a series of devastating blows that eventually ripped her apart. When she saw the ferocity behind his attacks, her heart broke for now she knew that he had never truly loved her and was forced to let her arrows fly true lest she dooms her comrades."
"No matter how many times I hear it, it always makes me so sad," Barbara sighs.
"Yes. It is quite tragic indeed," Jean agrees with a solemn nod. "But I've always seen it as a cautionary tale of how love can blind us to our partner's faults until it's too late."
Barbara's face falls at this and she moves to turn away, stopping only when she feels her older sister's hand wrap around her forearm. When the Deaconess turns to face her, her breath hitches as she notices the acting Grand Master's understanding smile.
"I feel so stupid," the songstress scoffs, reaching up with her free hand to conceal her tears behind the sleeve of her traveling cloak.
"That's what happens when we have a crush on someone," Jean informs her with an assuring smile. "When I first started having feelings for Diluc I couldn't breathe or think properly whenever I was around him. Kaeya used to tease me about it so much I thought I would die of embarrassment."
"Oh no. I'm so sorry," Barbara sympathizes. But the Dandelion Knights merely shrugs it away as she reaches out to stroke the Deaconess' features.
"I'm not saying that what you have for this harbinger isn't serious. Even the silliest of crushes can grow into something powerful."
"I feel my affection for him growing every day," the Deaconess confesses quietly clutching her chest with a clenched palm. "Does that mean that we're meant to be together, then?"
"Who knows?" the acting Grand Master shrugs. "Love is a strange and wonderful thing. But it can also be dangerous and frightening. Especially when it forces you to overlook your partner's true nature."
"He's not a monster," she protests, clutching her hands together earnestly. "He's just confused. Fighting is all he's known. Deep down inside he just wants to protect his family and give them a good life."
"Barbara, Lumine and Paimon told us that he had no qualms about destroying an entire city to accomplish his mission," Jean counters, crossing her arms now. "Someone capable of that is bound to have committed several atrocities."
"H-he's just reckless," Barbara insists, watching her older sister intently. "I can change him. I know I can."
"How?" The Dandelion Knight asks crossing her arms with an exasperated sigh.
"I-I'll follow him to Snezhnaya," the Deaconess blurts as a thought finally occurs to her. "He should be returning before the Windblume Festival. I'll convince him to enjoy the festival with me and follow him back to Snezhnaya afterwards."
"Huh? No wait! Wh-why? Wh-what for?!" Jean asks clearly taken aback.
"Oh, don't worry," Barbara assures the acting Grand Master with a jovial smile. "Lumine mentioned that he's been lying to his family about working for the Fatui. It's almost as if he's ashamed of his job."
"With good reason," Jean huffs uncrossing her arms and shifting to stand at akimbo.
"Which is why I'll tell them," the songstress announces giddily. "I-I'll have to be careful and make it seem like it slipped out so he doesn't get angry but that—"
"Barbara there's a good chance his family already knows what he does for a living," the Dandelion Knight informs her matter-of-factly. "The Fatui and its Harbingers are highly regarded throughout Snezhnaya. Being related to a member of the Fatui would be considered a badge of honor. You said it yourself, he's just trying to give his family a good life. Chances are even if they don't know the specifics of his job, they won't care because of all the perks that come with it."
"Oh, I'm sure I'll figure something out," the Deaconess insists, gently stroking the side of her chin with a thoughtful look.
"But Barbara do you even know if he actually can leave the Fatui?"
"I do," the songstress replies a little too quickly, flushing slightly as she turns away from her older sister.
"Barbara," Jean calls softly as she moves to stand in front of the Deaconess now. A long finger stretches out to tap the songstress' chin, gently coaxing her blue eyes higher to meet the acting Grand Master's.
"I know I'm being unreasonable but I really really lo—I mean like him," Barbara sighs suddenly tearful. "I just…for once in my life I really want something for myself and I can't…I'm not sure how to get it or what will happen if I do. I feel so awful and confused. I don't know what to do."
"Do you want to become a harbinger?" The Deaconess mutely shakes her head, prompting the Gunnhildr heiress to release a relieved sigh. "I know it's painful Barbara. But unless he's willing to leave the Fatui there can be no future between you both. Even if he does leave the Fatui, you're both too different for it to work."
"T-that's n-not true," the songstress squeaks, her voice betraying the sliver of doubt that had begun to take root deep within.
The acting Grand Master merely crosses her arms as she studies her features for any sign of sincerity. But her confidence from before had all but vanished leaving her to dwell on the Eleventh Harbinger's confession that fateful night at the Liuli Pavilion.
"Do you know why I became a harbinger?"He had asked softly watching her."For as long as I can remember there's been a…strange sickness growing deep inside of me. When I eight years old, I found a dying man hiding on the outskirts of the city. You see I always had a creepy knack for finding dead bodies. I knew he didn't have long, and he begged me to get help but a part of me was worried that he would die while I was away. Now that simply would not do. You see something in me wanted to be there when death came for him. I can't explain it, but I desperately wanted to see that moment when he would finally stop breathing. So, I stayed with him and watched."
She remembers the euphoric smile twisting the corners of his lips, perverting his boyish features with a sinister smirk. She remembers the ominous shudder that had ripped through her when she had recognized the bloodlust reflected within his striking blue eyes.
"Why are you telling me this?" She had asked quietly, desperately fighting the urge to flee.
"Because Kroshka, you deserve to know. That is what you're up against," he had informed her calmly. "Bloodshed. I thrive on it. It feeds and strengthens me. It is the one and only reason I joined the Fatui, and it is one of two things keeping here."
Barbara's heart sinks for she knows that Jean was right.
He was truly beyond saving. Nothing she could say or offer him would sway him from his path of destruction. She had spent all her life healing and nourishing people while he was happy to spend his destroying others. Killing and maiming were the only things that seemed to truly give him pleasure and he always seemed intent on throwing himself into danger. Even if he left the Fatui for her sake how long would it take before his sickness returned and he hurt someone? Could she live with the knowledge that someone she loved and cared for was capable of such cruelty.
"I've been so blind, big sister," the Deaconess states her voice quivering badly, burying her face into her palms once more as the heat of shame and frustration overwhelm her. When she feels the Dandelion Knight kneel beside her, she shifts ever so slightly until she is able to meet her gaze through the gaps between her fingers. "I'm so sorry for being so selfish. Pl-please forgive me."
"Oh, Barbara." Jean sighs. "There is nothing to forgive."
"I'm so confused," the songstress informs her quietly after some time. "H-he'll be here in a few weeks to hear my response. W-what do I say to him? H-how can I face him?"
"Don't worry," the Dandelion Knight assures her kindly. "I'll take care of it."
Three weeks had passed since her return from Liyue Harbor and Mondstadt's shinning idol was pleased to note that not much had changed. While most of the initial fervor surrounding her performance aboard the Alcor had thankfully died down, Barbara was still somewhat taken aback by how often Snezhnayan diplomats and tourists alike sought her out for a quick chat or an autograph.
While it was unusual for Snezhnayans to be so warm and respectful of an outsider, the Mondstadters simply chalked this development up to the songstress' innate charisma. In time, the excitement of the Windblume Festival soon drowned out the rumors surrounding the Deaconess' performance, allowing Barbara to focus all her attention on planning and setting up for the Windblume Festival with the other sisters.
As satisfying as it was to distract herself with work, she found her thoughts returning to the Eleventh Harbinger every now and then. Every day that passed without any news of word from him only heightened her concern until it was all she could do to drown the niggling worries gnawing at the recesses of her mind.
At first cooking had helped until it started to remind her of his promise to repay her kindness with a home-cooked meal. When cooking only stirred memories of him, she turned instead to singing and practicing her lyre. But that only reminded her of the lyrics and melodies from her performance aboard the Alcor prompting her to seek yet another pastime. Herb and flower gathering had managed to tide her over until the eve of the Windblume Festival, allowing her an excuse to steal away from the cathedral and wander out in the wild.
In the canopy of evergreen trees amidst the melodic chirps of passing birds, the Deaconess found a welcome respite, free from her concern for the Eleventh Harbinger and the growing dread of the impossible choice that would surely accompany his eventual return. While she knew she could not avoid him forever, she welcomed the opportunity to try. Perhaps if he returned to Mondstadt and could not find her at the cathedral he would eventually get the message and stay away. While part of her recognized the unlikeliness of that ever happening, she preferred it to sitting idly by. And so, her trips beyond the city gates grew in duration and frequency until Albert began to insist on accompanying her for protection.
At first, he was content to follow from afar, watching her vigilantly and stepping forward to carry her baskets back once she was done. But in time, her tolerance of presence only emboldened her admirer until he finally started walking by her side. Normally, she would have been glad for the company had he not insisted on serenading her with his poorly disguised love songs when he wasn't badgering her with deeply intrusive questions.
"Have you decided what songs you're going to perform at the Windblume Festival?" Albert asks for the eleventh time that evening as she finally straightens up from examining a nearby thicket.
"No, Albert I—"
"I'm sure whatever you decide it will be amazing," the youth insists flushing deeply now. Barbara can only manage a weak smile in response.
"I-it's g-getting late Albert," she says, making sure to yawn loudly for good measure. "Perhaps we should—"
"Of course," he agrees jumping up now. "I'll go fetch the cart. We picked some great flowers today. I'm sure the sisters would weave beautiful wreaths and festoons for the festival."
Barbara watches him listlessly as he leads the half-empty cart towards her. At his insistence, she accepts his hand and climbs onto the cart beside him. Once he is sure that she is settled, he cracks his whip, urging their donkey forward. As he drives, Albert decides to regale her with his plans for the festival, dropping pointed hints at gifting her a large bouquet of roses and Cecilias. Thankfully, he is distracted by the posted sentries at the city gates as they ride past, and stops briefly to engage them, allowing Barbara to quietly excuse herself as she hops off the cart.
Eager to avoid detection, she scurries towards the Cat's Tail tavern and quietly pulls up the hood of her traveling cloak, allowing her to slip through unseen. Thankfully, Margaret is manning the bar when she approaches and uses her eyes to guide the songstress towards the far corner of the tavern where she is less likely to be disturbed. Barbara thanks her with a grateful smile before moving towards her seat.
The songstress freezes as she notices a masked Fatui diplomat ahead scanning the crowd intently. Before she has a chance to shift her hood to conceal her features, their eyes meet, and her hands drop as she immediately recognizes the diplomat.
"V-V-Victor?" She gasps as he approaches her. "W-what are you doing here?"
"Er, pardon the interruption Milady," the diplomat greets with a curt bow. "But La Signora sent me to fetch you and I remembered you saying something about liking the drinks over here so I thought I would look here since you haven't been to the cathedral all day."
"Oh, sorry Victor I've been out picking herbs," the songstress notes gently lifting her basket for emphasis. The diplomat's eyes flit towards the herbs briefly before returning to study her features. Her pulse quickens when she notices the sheen of apprehension reflected within his eyes. "I-is everything alright? W-who did you say sent you?"
"La Signora, Milady," he supplies immediately. "And she isn't very fond of being kept waiting. Shall I take you to her? Rumor has it that she is here on official business for her Majesty herself."
"Oh," Barbara notes haltingly.
"Will you come, Lady Barbara?"
"Oh, please just call me Barbara," the Deaconess informs him sweetly.
"Very well," Victor assents, his tone somewhat impatient now. "Will you come?"
Thoroughly intrigued, the Deaconess agrees without further thought. The diplomat allows himself a sigh of relief before hurrying to lead her through the crowd of milling patrons. As they leave, the tavern owner catches the songstress eyes and shoots her a questioning look which Barbara responds to with an assuring smile.
They emerge unto the brightly lit streets and pick a familiar path through the city. The songstress jumps as the distant chimes of the cathedral bells signal the beginning of the evening mass reaches them. Barbara gasps at having lost track of time so completely as she turns to address her escort.
"Oh dear, I didn't realize how late it was," Barbara mumbles. "It's already time for evening mass."
If the diplomat hears her, he does not react or respond prompting the Deaconess to clear her throat loudly.
"It shouldn't take long, Milady," Victor assures her quietly. "We're almost there. La Signora has taken a room at the Grand Goth Hotel."
"D-do you k-know what this is about?" the songstress stutters as they approach the stately hotel.
Barbara watches him carefully and wonders if she had imagined the slight tremor in his hands as they shift to adjust his mask briefly—a nervous tick she had noticed he employed whenever the other sisters shot him dirty looks back at the cathedral. The diplomat greets the posted sentry at the door with a curt nod and leans briefly to whisper something into his ear when he shifts his attention towards Barbara.
Satisfied with his comrade's report, the sentry nods tersely and steps aside, holding the door open for them to walk through. Victor turns to beckon Barbara further but stops when she shakes her head nervously.
"N-n-no I'm s-sorry I really need to get back to t-the cathed—"
"Is there a problem, Victor?" The guard asks gruffly.
"No, Luke."
"Then get on with it already before that nosy Outlander comes poking around again," the sentry scolds.
"Lady Barbara please, this won't take long."
"I'm sorry but I have to get back to the cathedral," the Deaconess insists, backing away now.
"What in Teyvat's your problem?" The guard snaps turning to face her. "You're a guest so stop acting like we're going to kidnap you or something."
While Barbara knew that she was being silly for refusing to comply, she couldn't shake the niggling apprehension urging her to turn and flee. Her brief interaction with the Eighth Harbinger back in Liyue Harbor was all the proof she needed that the Fair Lady was not to be trifled with. Given everything that had happened, there could only be one reason why she would insist on meeting Barbara.
Ajax.
"You're really not going to let this go, are you?" She remembered Tartaglia asking that fateful night in the Liuli Pavilion. "Very well then. I have a mission in Fontaine which I leave for tomorrow. Think it over for now. If you still want to join me when I return, I'll take you to Zapolyarny Palace myself and get you an audience with her Majesty."
Did he send her? She wonders.
Surely three weeks was more than enough to conclude whatever mission he had in Fontaine. So why send another harbinger when he had promised to fetch her himself? The more Barbara thought about it, the greater her suspicions grew. While the Fatui had no cause to hurt or trap her, she was wary of walking blindly into the lion's den.
"I-I'm sorry," she begins to say prompting the diplomat to interrupt her.
"It's about Lord Tartaglia." The Deaconess freezes at this, blue eyes wide with worry. "I think he's in trouble."
"Honestly, how difficult can it be to find one mousy little Deaconess, Victor?" The Fair Lady snaps as she strides into the ornately decorated study of her private suite.
"Apologies my lady," Victor replies with a reverent bow. "We were—"
"The details of your incompetence do not concern me," La Signora interrupts dismissively before turning her attention towards Barbara now.
From the corner of her eye, Barbara notices the diplomat quietly excuse himself shutting the door firmly behind him as he rejoins his comrades waiting in the hallway beyond.
"W-what's w-wrong wi-with Ajax?" Barbara asks quietly.
The Eighth Harbinger pointedly ignores her as she glides across the room, pausing to serve herself a glass of wine from a nearby decanter.
"Nothing," the Fair Lady replies at last, not bothering to face the songstress as she lifts her glass to her painted lips.
"But Vic—"
"I asked him to say whatever he needed to say to get you here," the tall blonde sneers, turning around to drink in the songstress' expression with a wicked smirk. "And here you are."
Barbara stiffens slightly at this but settles for resting her clenched fists delicately atop her lap as she watches the Tsaritsa's favored envoy slide into a nearby armchair.
"W-what do you w-want with me?"
"To congratulate you on your fantastic performance, Kroshka," Signora taunts, her smirk widening when she notices the visible tension in the Deaconess' frame. "If I hadn't known any better, I would have thought that you were trying to seduce my colleague."
"I ha-have to g-get back t-to the cathedral," Barbara states quietly as she prepares to leave.
"Take one more step and my spies throughout the city will make sure that everyone knows about your little romp at the Liuli Pavilion."
Barbara squeals sharply at this, stumbling backward until she trips over her own feet and crashes gracelessly onto the ground.
"N-no impos—"
"Impossible?" Signora completes with a malicious cackle. "Perhaps for your witless archon but not for our glorious Tsaritsa."
"P-please," Barbara sobs trembling visibly now as the weight of her shame tightens around her chest, threatening to suffocate her. "W-what do you w-want?"
"If it were up to me?" the Eighth Harbinger asks with an unkind sneer. "I'd have you drink this." Barbara's eyes widen as the tall blonde produces a tiny vial of clear liquid which she holds high enough for the Deaconess to observe.
"I-is th-that poison?"
"The very poison that almost claimed Childe's life," Signora chuckles.
"Pl-please," the songstress whimpers. "W-what do-do you want?"
"Her Majesty enjoyed your performance in Liyue Harbor," the Eighth Harbinger sighs. "Our Tsaritsa is such a compassionate and benevolent soul. She is truly too good for this wretched world."
"Does she w-want m-me to g-give a-another performance?" Barbara squeaks hopefully.
"She does," the Tsaritsa's envoy confirms, reaching over to pluck a sleek envelope from atop a neat stack of papers nearby. She extends her arm lazily prompting Barbara to rise to accept it. Before the Deaconess can secure the envelope, the Eighth Harbinger releases it, causing it to tumble unto the ground between them.
"W-when?" Barbara stutters as she stoops to retrieve the envelope.
"Next month," Signora replies. "At Zapolyarny Palace."
END OF ACT TWO
Author's Note: I apologize for not posting this chapter last week. To be honest, I just wasn't satisfied with it and decided to sit on it and tweak it before posting it. Hopefully, it was worth the wait.
I've already gotten started on the next chapter and hope to post it this weekend too. I'm still planning to make the final act ten chapters long and there's still a lot of ground left to cover so they should be somewhat longer like this one.
Oh well, I've prattled long enough. Thank you for your continued support.