Author's Note: This chapter continues from Barbara's meeting with La Signora at the Grand Goth Hotel from Chapter Twenty. I decided to re-paste a copy of it for the sake of continuity and clarity.

Chapter Twenty-Two: Threat

"Her Majesty enjoyed your performance in Liyue Harbor," La Signora 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?" the Deaconess squeaks hopefully.

"She does," the Eighth Harbinger replies, 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. However, before she can secure the envelope, the Eighth Harbinger releases it, letting it fall onto the ground between them.

"W-when?" Barbara stutters as she bends to retrieve the envelope.

"Next month," Signora replies. "At Zapolyarny Palace."

"A-at Z-Zapolyarny P-Palace?"

"Why do you do that?" Signora asks quietly, a vicious frown twisting her features.

"D-do w-what?" the songstress asks lowering her gaze, unable to meet the Snezhnayan's gaze.

"Stutter."

At first, she is not sure if she had heard the Fair Lady correctly and merely watches her quietly, expecting further elaboration. When the Eighth Harbinger notices this, she rises from her seat and grabs hold of Barbara's face, jerking it up to meet her violet gaze.

"L-Let m-me g-g-o!" the songstress pleads sobbing once more.

"So, you do fear me," Signora notes with a bemused chuckle. "After our first meeting, I'd thought that your entire blushing act was simply for show. Interesting. So, this is your true self. Fascinating."

"P-p-p-please l-let m-e g-g-g-o!" The Deaconess implores, squirming now.

The Tsaritsa's envoy cackles wickedly as she finally complies, releasing the petite songstress's face with a malicious shove that sends her tumbling to the ground once more.

Barbara briefly considers pretending to pass out and lying there until the Eighth Harbinger grows bored with her and takes her leave. Squeezing her eyes shut, she wills the entire ordeal over and finds her thoughts drifting to her older sister.

Big sister…help me. I don't know what to do.

"Concentrate Barbara!" her mother had scolded mid lunge as she had sent her youngest daughter flying through the air with a particularly vicious strike. "Anticipate where I'm going to strike and guard yourself!"

Barbara had been barely eight years old and had been already training with her mother and older sister for the better part of the afternoon at the Gunnhildr manor's training grounds. When she had landed, she remembered wincing as the spasms of pain had racked through her prompting tears to sting to her eyes.

"No, Jean!" their mother had snapped as the Gunnhildr heiress had begun to hurry to her sister's side. "She has to get up on her own."

"B-but she's crying, mother," Jean had protested.

"She always cries," Lady Frederica had countered with a disappointed scowl as Barbara had cracked an eyelid open. Although their eyes had only met briefly, the disappointment and frustration reflected within her mother's gaze were unmistakable.

"I'm s-sorry," Barbara had wailed, choking on her tears as she had gingerly picked herself up.

"Don't be sorry," the Gunnhildr matriarch had scolded once more slapping her breast for emphasis. "Be strong. Learn from your mistake and adapt to conceal your weaknesses."

"I'm s-sorry," she had blurted bowing her head in shame. "I'm t-t-trying m-my best. B-bu-but th-the b-lade's too h-heavy."

"Would you prefer a bow?" Jean had offered kindly. The heat of shame had stung her ears as Barbara had shaken her head.

"The string…is too strong," she had mumbled sheepishly.

"What weapon would you like?" Jean had pressed rubbing her shoulder reassuringly.

Not daring to look up, lest she meet her mother's disappointed gaze, Barbara had merely shaken her head and remained mute.

"You must choose," Lady Frederica had insisted as she closed the distance between them and grabbed her by the shoulders. "Our family has served Mondstadt since the days of Decarabian. We have slain tyrants, repelled invasions, withstood sieges, destroyed unspeakable abominations. We honor our ancestors' legacies by heeding their call to arms. No child of mine will be weak while I draw breath."

"I'm so-sorry," Barbara had sobbed, hugging her sides.

"Could we take a break, mother?" Jean had suggested quietly as she had pressed Barbara to her side. "We've been at it for hours now."

"Stop babying her, Jean!" Lady Frederica had snapped startling her oldest child. "You will not always be there to save her! You have your own path that you must follow as does she. If she is to serve honorably, she must know how to protect herself for how can she protect others when she cannot even lift a bow?!"

"Pathetic," Signora sniffs. "Tell me, does your beloved Ajax know how much of a sniveling coward you truly are?"

Please go away.

"P-please -le-leave me alone," Barbara mutters quietly.

"And to think they made your sister the acting Grand Master," the Eighth Harbinger sighs. "Mondstadt is only fit for the dogs. Why Celestia ever saw fit to bless it with an archon is beyond me."

It's almost over. Just lie down until it's over.

"I…have to go…"

"Tell me," Signora sneers. "Does Ajax's strength appeal to you? Is that why you chase him around like a bitch in heat? Is that why you parted your legs so willingly for him like some cheap trollop?"

"What do you want from me?" The Deaconess asks finally reopening her eyes as she shifts to meet the taller woman's gaze.

"Answers," the Eighth Harbinger shoots back without missing a beat. "Why Ajax?"

"I don't know," she confesses shaking her head slowly. "I guess…part of me just wants to save him."

"From what?"

"F-from the Fatui," Barbara replies quietly rubbing her arm. "He will destroy himself if he goes on like this. And I can't let him."

Somehow, speaking of the Eleventh Harbinger gives her strength for she knows that she is right. He needs her. She is the only one who could turn him away from a life of chaos and destruction. He has confessed as much. His eyes betrayed much more. Judging from Signora's taunts and insults, her greatest fear was that she would succeed.

"You poor fool," Signora cackles, her chest heaving with amusement. "You really think your little tryst in Liyue Harbor meant something to him?"

"I know it does," Barbara shoots back.

Before Signora can respond a sharp knock at the study door distracts her.

"I'm busy," she snaps turning to glower at her faceless subordinate through the door.

"A thousand apologies my lady it's just L-Lo-ord T-Tartaglia was seen entering the cathedral."

"What?" She hisses narrowing her eyes as she marches to rip open the door.

The fatui agent cowers slightly as his masked face meets the Harbinger's glaring visage and it is all he could do to not flee.

"H-his Lordship was seen by multiple sources entering the cathedral."

"Whatever for?" She presses crossing her arms as she watches him impatiently. The agent's gaze must have strayed to Barbara because the next thing she knew the Eighth Harbinger shifts ever so slightly cast her a baleful glare over her shoulder. "Get the carriage ready."

"Yes, my lady!"

The Fair Lady follows the agent as he departs, slamming the study door behind her. At first, Barbara merely stares blankly after them, unsure if she had heard them correctly.

Ajax? Here? At the cathedral?! She muses blinking slowly as her mind tries to make sense of his sudden visit.

Oh. That's right! He must be looking for me to hear my response. A shiver of apprehension glides down her back, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. I have to get to him. Before anyone else sees him.

Her feet propel her towards the door which swings open just as she is reaching for its knob. Victor is standing there, his head bowed seemingly in penance as he clears his throat as if to speak.

"A-Ajax. H-h-has anyone else seen him?" She blurts out without thinking. When he does not respond, she shifts her gaze to study his masked features and notes the confused furrow of his eyebrows. "Tartaglia. Did anyone see him before he entered the cathedral?"

"Er, there was a small crowd there and he was covered in blood and carrying some unconscious kid."

The songstress's heart sinks at this as she takes off down the brightly lit corridors, her short legs never once stopping until she reaches the second floor where she sprints down the grand staircase leading towards the hotel lobby. A small crowd of diplomats is trailing the Tsaritsa's envoy as she is marching outside. When Barbara notices the tall blonde's face begin to turn towards her direction, she halts and scans her surroundings for a suitable hiding spot.

Finding none, she musters the last shreds of courage she dares display as she finally meets the Eighth Harbinger's gaze.

"Bring her," Signora commands Viktor as he finally catches up with Barbara.

"But I—" Barbara begins to protest before the Fatui diplomat nudges her gently with a pointed look.

Don't. His eyes caution.

The petite songstress sighs as she quietly follows the Fair Lady out unto the street. An elegant carriage pulls up as they arrive and the doors swing open as a pair of Fatui agents appear to guide them inside. At first, Barbara considers walking away but decides against it when she feels the Eighth Harbinger's gaze trailing her movements. Closing her eyes, she settles into the cushy seat of the carriage and barely stirs as the doors swing shut firmly after them.

The ride to the cathedral is blissfully short and silent and they arrive in time to see the small crowd spilling out onto the street. The carriage comes to a halt, prompting the footmen to open the carriage door. Grateful to finally be rid of the disdainful envoy, Barbara accepts the footman's hand with a grateful nod, alighting from the carriage carefully before scanning the crowd for any sign of the Eleventh Harbinger.

She finds him standing inexplicably beside her older sister and feels her shoulders slump as she notices the bloodstains clinging to his shirt.

Is he hurt?! She wonders blinking slowly as she considers him. Judging from his posture, he doesn't seem hurt. Could it be that…is that someone else's blood?!

"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."

"Ah, Childe," Signora greets as she finally alights from the carriage. "There you are."

"Good evening, Signora," the acting Grand Master greets slowly, her eyes narrowing suspiciously as her gaze shifts to study the Deaconess' expression. Barbara notices her sister's attention far too late to feign innocence and has to force an assuring smile when Jean's gaze meets hers. "What brings you back to Mondstadt?"

"Who says I ever left?" The Fair Lady chuckles condescendingly, sashaying her way towards her glaring colleague.

When she reaches him, she slips her arm beneath his armpit, stroking the fabric of his shirt with an appreciative smirk as she turns to regard him.

"Are you alright, Sister Barbara?" the Dandelion Knight asks turning to address her younger sister instead of rising to the Harbinger's petty taunt.

"I-I'm f-fine," the songstress stutters. She flushes visibly when she feels the Eleventh Harbinger's gaze studying her and bows her head, suddenly intent on avoiding eye contact. "W-w-what happened t-to A-Aj-ax? I mean…wh-what ha-happened to Mr. Tartaglia?"

"Mr. Tartaglia? Oh my, after everything you've been through surely you're both on a first-name basis," the Tsaritsa's envoy asks pointedly with an unkind smirk. "Or did you ask her to stop calling you 'Ajax' in public?"

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Tartaglia groans, finally shifting his attention to his colleague.

"Oh no, dorogoi!" Signora exclaims with an exaggerated gasp that startles a few passersby as they hurry past. "Your shirt. It's covered in blood!"

"A-are y-ou h-hurt?" Barbara stutters, blue eyes wide with concern as she watches him sadly.

Her breath hitches as his gaze returns to meet hers and she feels the heat of self-consciousness stinging her cheeks as she is reminded of the passionate moments they had shared together in Liyue Harbor. Painfully aware of the color rising in her cheeks, she hastily averts her gaze as she awaits his response.

"Don't be ridiculous," Signora scoffs. "Of course, it isn't his blood."

Barbara winces as the realization slowly but surely dawns on her.

"I'm fine," Childe confirms quietly without further elaboration.

"I believe it is Bennett's," Jean supplies prompting the Deaconess' head to jolt up as she turns to face her. "He's alright. I healed him. He left with mo—I mean Lady Frederica a few minutes ago."

"Oh," Barbara hums dejectedly.

"We should get going," the Dandelion Knight announces as she moves to Barbara's side. "Good evening."

The Deaconess allows her sister to guide her back towards the cathedral, pausing briefly to spare a final glance at the departing harbingers as they board Signora's carriage.

"Sister Barbara!" Sister Victoria calls after them as they enter the cathedral. "Where have you been?"

"I'm so sorry. I lost track of the time," Barbara mumbles apologetically. "Is Cardinal Calvin still up? I'll go see him and apologize personally."

"See that you do. And do not ever let it happen again. You are Mondstadt's shining idol after all. Our people look to you for guidance and encouragement. If you start missing mass, how can we expect others to remain diligent and devoted to Lord Barbatos?"

"Y-yes S-sister Vic-toria."

Satisfied with the Deaconess' contrition, Sister Victoria turns to address the Dandelion Knight with an earnest whisper.

"Acting Grand Master, I think after tonight's events, it is safe to presume that the Knights of Favonius will finally act on the Church's complaints regarding the increased Fatui presence around the cathedral? We cannot afford to risk any scandals during the Windblume Festival."

"Sister Victoria," Jean says with a diplomatic smile. "I assure you while the Knights of Favonius shares the Church's concern and strives to alleviate them, there is very little we can do. Seneschal Pegg and Grand Master Varka renewed the Fatui's diplomatic charter before departing for their expedition."

"I'm aware," Sister Victoria replies, lowering her voice into a conspiratorial whisper as she leans closer. "But surely with everything they've done, there must be some way to void it?"

"Without concrete evidence or any witnesses willing to testify, I'm afraid we cannot risk taking any action that will endanger our diplomatic relationship with Snezhnaya."

"Surely we have enough to expel them from the cathedral and ban them from returning?" Sister Victoria presses.

"I'm sorry, Sister Victoria, but such an act would only be interpreted as an insult to the Tsaritsa. With most of Mondstadt's forces currently away, we cannot risk any incident that could lead to war. At least without solid proof of wrongdoing."

"Very well," Sister Victoria sighs. "Thank you for your understanding, Dandelion Knight. Your sister and I will retire for the night. We have a busy day ahead of us tomorrow."

"If it's not too much to ask, could I have a quick word with Sister Barbara?" Jean asks with a hopeful smile.

"Of course, Lady Gunnhildr," Sister Victoria blurts before chuckling when she realizes her mistake. "My apologies. You look so much like your mother. Go right ahead. I will round up the other sisters and close up the cathedral."

Dread fills Barbara's stomach as they watch the confessor slowly but surely move out of earshot. Barbara feels her sister turn to lead the way to the dormitories before pausing when she notices that the Deaconess isn't following her.

"Barbara? What's wrong?"

"N-nothing, I'm just ne-nervous about tomorrow," Barbara lies before catching herself. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

"What did Signora want with you?"

"She…" Barbara trails off as she remembers the envelope with the Tsaritsa's invitation. Fishing it out of her coat pocket, she wordlessly hands it over to her and watches as the acting Grand Master skims through it.

"Oh, Barbara," the Dandelion Knight sighs as she turns to give her a pitying look. "I'm so so sorry."

"Huh?" the songstress gasps as she extends her hand to receive the envelope. "What's wrong?"

It is Jean's turn to wordlessly hand it over. Barbara's vision blurs as she finally comprehends the elegant gold script imprinted on the invitation.

Her Royal Majesty the Tsaritsa, supreme ruler of all of Snezhnaya, glorious leader of the Fatui, the benevolent cryo archon of Teyvat, and mistress of Zapolyarny Palace invites you, Ms. Barbara Pegg, to perform at the glorious wedding of Lady Signora to Lord Tartaglia at Zapolyarny Palace, Snezhnaya on the Sixteenth day of March at seven o'clock.

The songstress did not know that she had passed out until she woke several hours later and found herself back in her room with no recollection of ever returning there. Blinking up at the darkened ceiling of her bed-chamber, the Deaconess tries to remember the lyrics for the song her governess had once taught her long ago when she often lay awake blaming herself for the demise of her parents' marriage. Her brain mercifully supplies her with the opening notes which she hums at first before parting her lips to sing them. Instead of harmonic notes interwoven with a sweet melody, a deep rattling cry escapes her instead as she feels the weight of shame collapse onto her chest.

"You poor fool. You really think your little tryst in Liyue Harbor meant something to him?"

"I did," she confesses to her damp pillow as she wills the room to collapse within her.

"Hmm? Are you awake, Barbara?" The Deaconess starts at the sound of her older sister's bleary inquiry and turns to face her.

The acting Grand Master was seated at her writing desk, diligently reviewing and revising the weekly reconnaissance reports. When she feels the songstress' gaze on her, she looks up and meets her with a kind smile.

"Good morning," Barbara greets shyly rising to her knees.

"Good, morning," Jean replies before adding. "H-how are you feeling?"

"Better," the songstress lies, pretending to sleepily rub at her eyes as she moves to dab at her tear-streaked cheeks with the fabric of her sleeve.

"I'm glad to hear it," the Dandelion Knight admits, watching her carefully. "I've asked Sister Victoria to give you the day off. You're not feeling well, so I want you to stay in and rest."

"I'm fine, honestly."

"Barbara, please. Will you do this for me?"

"Of course," the Deaconess replies without a single note of hesitation.

She rises to bathe and fixes a light breakfast which they share in silence before a gentle tap at her apartment door finally calls the acting Grand Master away. Through the gap in the curtains of her bedroom window, she watches her older sister's speech during the opening ceremony and feels her heart swell with pride at the crowd's enthusiastic response. She starts suddenly when she notices Lumine and Paimon standing beside the Dandelion Knight and is reminded of that fateful night when they had brought the poisoned harbinger right to her door.

I'll have to catch up with them soon. She decides with a fond smile, hugging her knees to her chest as she closes her eyes.

Blocking the pain was a lot easier as she recalls the warm memories of her times with the Outlander and her floating companion. While she was always away helping others and rarely remained in the same place for very long, it always warms the Deaconess' heart to catch glimpses of her throughout the city.

Suddenly, there is a knock at her door. Barbara rises and tiptoes through her apartment, taking care to tread as lightly as possible to conceal her presence. While she was feeling a lot better now, she was in no state to entertain. She halts when she detects a decidedly masculine presence standing at the other side of the door and feels her heart leap into her throat as her thoughts return to the Eleventh Harbinger.

Be strong Barbara. She encourages herself as she extends a trembling hand to the doorknob. Polite but firm. Do not fall for his charms or listen to his sweet words. They are meaningless. He's playing with you. It's all a game to him. Don't apologize. Just tell him no and let him walk away.

"So, kiss me Kroshka," he had once pressed leaning in with a smile. "When I kiss you, everything disappears. The world, this room, my family, my mission. Everything. It's as if the world has ended and we are the only ones in it."

"This isn't funny, Ajax," she had protested, pushing him away as she had hopped off his lap. "I'm serious."

"So am I," he had insisted rising to meet her. "When you kiss me that hunger for blood disappears."

She could not face him. Not yet.

She scrambles to find a hiding spot as quietly as she can, taking care to tiptoe. Squeezing into her coat closet, she listens carefully with bated breath for any sign of the figure's retreat. Hours pass this way, and she does not realize that she has dozed off until the closet door swings open.

"S-sister B-Barbara?!" Sister Grace cries out when she notices the Deaconess's slumbering form.

"S-sister G-Grace?!" Barbara stutters groggily rubbing her eyes. "Is he gone?"

"I-is wh-who gone?" the nun asks clutching her chest in shock.

Barbara blinks slowly as her eyes consider her colleague's expression for several awkward moments. The smell of soup distracts her and she notes the tray of food in the taller nun's hands.

"S-sorry. I had a dream," the Deaconess mutters as she awkwardly climbs out of the closet.

"Are you alright?" Sister Grace presses with a worried frown. "What happened to you? Why were you in there?"

"I was reorganizing and dozed off," Barbara blurts out as she relieves the nun of the tray. "Did Sister Victoria send you to check on me?" She asks already guessing the answer.

"She did," Sister Grace replies. "Those awful Snezhnayans have been skulking around the plaza asking when you're supposed to perform."

"Oh," the songstress sighs. "But I never said anything about performing."

"Albert and his big mouth," Sister Grace grumbles. "Barbatos forgive me but that man gets on my last nerve!"

"Why? What happened?"

"He told everyone at Angel's Share last night that you had agreed to perform the duet he had written with him during the Ballads of Breeze tournament."

"Oh no!" Barbara cries out, thoroughly dismayed. "Where is he now? I have to talk some sense into him."

"Archons know. I can have one of the Knights keep an eye out for him if you'd like?" Sister Grace offers.

But the Deaconess is barely paying attention as she scrambles to get dressed. Once she is presentable, she follows the nun out of her apartment pausing only when she notices a blank envelope lying by the front door.

"Did you drop this?" She asks lifting the envelope hopefully. Her heart sinks when Sister Grace shakes her head and turns to walk away.

Following her quietly, Barbara considers the envelope carefully. When they reach the main cathedral, she lifts it up to study its contents with the aid of the mid-morning sun's rays. Her pulse quickens when she observes a simple folded note comprised of what seems to be a single paragraph. Intent on eliminating all possibilities, she asks the other sisters if they had noticed anyone lurking outside her apartment. When none can shed light on the sender's identity, she decides to open the letter herself.

Dear Barbara,

I've stolen the thing most precious to you and buried it.

She feels her knees buckle beneath her as the weight of the letter's threat finally sinks in. Feeling her balance slipping, she reaches out for something to steady herself and touches something soft and warm.

"B-Barbara?" Bennett asks watching her with a concerned frown as his arms carefully steady her. "You don't look so well. What's going on?"

Too exhausted and overwhelmed to speak, she merely shakes her head as the tears she didn't realize she had been fighting back finally fall. At some point, the adventurer must have noticed the letter clutched within her fingers and he gently coaxes it out of her clutches to examine it.

"Oh no!" He gasps. "T-that's awful!"

"Wh-who would do such a thing?!" She agrees, sobbing into her handkerchief now.

"Oh no, ple-please don't cry Barbara. I promise we'll get to the bottom of this," the green-eyed youth assures her with a kind smile as he strokes a soothing circle around her back. "Do you know who sent it?"

"N-n-no!"

"Hey, guys!" Paimon and Lumine greet in unison as they approach suddenly, accompanied by the green-clad bard. "Kaeya sent us to—"

"Who would do such a thing?!" Bennett declares, thoroughly beside himself. "This is pure intimidation!"

"Uh, what's up guys?" Lumine asks blinking at them both as they reach them at the altar.

"Yeah, what's happened?" The bard asks.

"I-I…I received a letter!" the songstress squeals through her tears, sniffling loudly. "I-it says—"

When he notices that she is far too distraught to form a coherent response, Bennett takes over and explains the situation to the others, showing them the letter and map she had somehow missed within the envelope.

"Could someone be trying to threaten you, Barbara?" The bard wonders after reading the letter out loud for the group to hear.

"It's awful," Bennett declares. "I really hope it's some kind of prank but still…what an awful letter to send someone. I mean, it's messed up if it's a joke, but if it is...then we don't need to worry. But…"

"But… what if it's real?!" Barbara sobs, thoroughly beside herself with worry as her thoughts return to the events of the previous night.

Did something happen between her and Ajax after I left?

"There's a map on the back," Paimon informs the group. They huddle together and observe the map together, trying to make sense of any key landmarks to narrow down the location.

"So, what is the most important thing to you, Barbara?" Lumine wonders turning to address the Deaconess.

"I can't think straight right now! Nothing makes sense," the songstress confesses with a whimpering sob.

"Hmm…it's coming to me…it's coming to me…" Bennett muses pinching the bridge of his nose with a contemplative frown.

"The thing most precious to me," Barbara repeats, tapping her chest thoughtfully. "W-wait! C-could it b-be?! Oh no!" She cries out as she takes off, sprinting for the Cathedral exit with all her might.

Muttering a hasty apology as she bursts outside, she quickly scans the plaza before catching sight of the Grand Goth Hotel in the distance. She turns and takes off once more, pausing only to scale the wall overlooking the large staircase leading up to the plaza from the commercial district. Spreading her arms, she unfurls the glider she had borrowed from one of the sisters and pushes off.

The air current carries her gently down before depositing her at the front door of the stately hotel where the prickly sentry considers her with a guarded frown. Stowing her glider away, she approaches him and offers a quick greeting which he pointedly ignores.

"Lady Signora has instructed me to turn away all—"

"Is Mr. Tartaglia around?" She asks. "Please. I'm just trying to confirm something."

"He's at the plaza, entertaining some rug rats," the sentry informs her with a grumble.

"Where's the fire, Kroshka?" Childe asks, an easy smile twisting his lips as he lands beside her. "I didn't know you could move that fast."

"Oh, er—I—I—"

"Come on, let's go somewhere private," he suggests, extending his hand toward her. "I've been meaning to talk to you since I came back."

Barbara considers his hand briefly before walking past him, pausing only to check if he is following. He smiles once more as their eyes meet and she feels a sudden surge of anger when she notices the cocky angle of his head.

Today he has paired a dark red dress shirt with a pair of dark grey suspenders. With his mask and earring out of sight, he could easily blend in with the crowd of tourists ambling throughout the city.

"What's wrong?" he asks chuckling awkwardly. "Why are you staring at me like that? Is it because I'm late?"

"My answer," she states, pausing briefly to inhale sharply, fighting past the anger, guilt, shame, and frustration within to muster the courage to let him go. "Is no."

"Oh, that reminds me," he says suddenly pulling out the white glider he had borrowed from her several weeks ago when she had treated him. "I kept meaning to send this back to you but kept forgetting."

"I said no, Ajax," Barbara repeats quietly. "I won't become a harbinger. I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he says quietly as he gives her an assuring smile. "You belong in the forest, Kroshka. I'm glad you won't melt away after all."

Author's Note: The threatening note Barbara receives and the dialogue at the Cathedral with Bennett, Barbara, Paimon, Lumine, and Venti about it were taken from the Windblume Festival event quest cutscene. I tried to stay as faithful to the canon events as possible and decided to fit it in.