You spent the rest of the day rotting in your bedroom, reading the various books you could find scattered around the room. Several times servants knocked on the door, trying to coax you into eating dinner or talking to your brother. Each time you refused them outright, and listened to their disheartened footsteps trundling back down the corridor.
After you had finished your third book about the history of Snezhnaya, you finally went back to the letter still on your nightstand, pondering exactly what Kaeya would have to say when you went to meet him.
It had been a long time since your last diplomatic visit to Monstadt, and you couldn't help but feel wistful at the thought of that nation.
You had first met Kaeya on one of your earliest missions with the Akademiya, both of you working together to capture and interrogate a fatui agent. There was no denying that you liked the man; he certainly was an interesting character. Although, you did know that he was slippery as a serpent, and had some of the quickest wits in Teyvat. Being a spy, it comes with the territory.
But there was something different about Kaeya; an underlying coldness and indifference in his gaze that stuck out to you. Behind the flirty romantic persona, you got the feeling that there was something darker lurking. Not unlike the feeling you got from the crown prince.
Speaking of him, you had certainly not gotten over the irritation at being forcibly married to him. The more you thought about it, the worse it got. The weather is permanently cold, the food and customs are odd and the people are certain to hate you for replacing the Tsaritsa. There was no positive to the scenario you decided, none whatsoever. Even if he is painfully handsome.
You slumped back on your bed and groaned, running both hands down your face in exasperation. You desperately tried to tear your thoughts away from the crown prince, but they stayed with you until you fell into a deep sleep.
Childe didn't sleep well. He spent the whole night tossing and turning, plotting various different ways he could escape this new engagement. Maybe he could cause another scandal, or run away to a different country? No, there was no escaping.
He also imagined what his new bride would look like, yet every time he thought about it, he couldn't help but visualise the woman he met before, even though he was now aware that he would never meet her again.
He cursed his traitorous heart for forcing these feelings onto him. It was painfully pathetic how she continued to claw her way into his heart when he knew there was no chance of them even being in the same room again.
And so he couldn't sleep, too distracted by his predicament to fall into slumber. So what else was there to do except tackle his ever mounting pile of paperwork?
Childe pulled on his army uniform (with some effort mind you) and began the trek down to his secret office behind the portrait that lay deep in the corridors of Zapolyarny palace.
At this time, the place was totally deserted, and he didn't see a single servant or agent roaming the corridor. It felt strangely eerie, the many pairs of eyes from the portrait glaring down at him as he snuck through the hallways.
Eventually he reached his office, pressing the button on the portrait to reveal the secret entrance. It was customary for this office to be given to the head of the army, but even when he had been promoted to crown prince, he requested that he keep it for himself. He didn't want one of his generals (or as the public 'affectionately' called them, Harbingers) fucking up his office.
Childe sank into the plush chair behind his desk, leaning his head back and staring up at the ceiling and the large glass chandelier hanging from it. He was trying to ignore the massive stack of paperwork next to him for as long as possible, undeniably irritated that even though he was no longer the official head of the army, he was still forced to fill out all the paperwork.
Finally he sat up straight and took the first file off the top of the pile. A report on a treasure hoarder attack. 'Couldn't someone lower on the chain handle this?' he thought, groaning in irritation.
Somehow, he managed to gather enough willpower to make his way through a good portion of the files, each one inconsequential as the next. The most interesting thing in there was an agent facing an abyss mage on one of his patrols. Unfortunately, his progress was halted by the nib of his pen snapping, spewing ink all over the piece of paper he was writing on.
"Oh fuck!" He cursed, grabbing a tissue to try and wipe his hands and salvage as much of the document as possible. Sadly it was a lost cause, and he was forced to screw up the file and throw it in the bin next to him.
Then he began the search for a new pen. He was certain there had been one sitting on his desk, somewhere under all this paperwork, yet he didn't find anything when he searched the entire desk.
He pulled open one of the draws in his desk, rummaging around and pulling out significantly more important folders than the stack he was currently working through. Finally he reached the bottom and found a single pen sitting there. He sighed and picked it up, placing it on his desk, and casting his attention to the stack of classified folders now in front of him.
Childe then began placing them neatly back into the drawer, flicking through them as he went. These were significantly more interesting, their topics ranging from a list of informants and fugitives, to the details of the Tsaritsa's personal security. He had written most of these reports himself, and he felt slightly wistful at the loss of his old role.
Eventually they were all back in the drawer, and Childe went to close it before something nagged at him. He paused for a moment, pondering on what it could be. Then he realised.
Frantically, he began grabbing files from the drawer and checking their titles, discarding them recklessly when they weren't what he was looking for. He was certain that he had put it in this drawer, positively certain.
When he was yet again at the bottom of that drawer and it still wasn't there he began to panic slightly. He opened the drawer underneath and again began searching through the mountains of files he kept in there. Yet again, he came up empty-handed.
"Fuck!" Childe cried, slamming his hands onto the tabletop in exasperation. It wasn't here. Where the fuck could it have gone? What if someone broke in and stole it? That was impossible, security had been tightened ever since that scare at the-
The masquerade ball. That night he had been informed by Scaramouche of a possible breach from an Inazuman agent, but it turns out it had been a false alarm and she had just neglected to inform the Tsaritsa of her arrival.
But what if it hadn't been a false alarm? What if she had tricked him, waltzing in here and stealing some of the most important documents in his possession. And if that was the case, all it did was raise more questions. Who was she really, and how did she know of the existence of this office, let alone of the existence of those documents?
It was safe to say that Childe wouldn't be getting back to sleep anytime soon
You woke up the next day miraculously well rested, eagerly clambering out of bed and putting on a simple dress to go and eat breakfast in. You ignored the concerned questions from the servants as you strutted down the corridors towards the dining hall, your long braided hair swishing behind you.
They were all surprised to see you in such high spirits after you had returned so miserable yesterday. They probably thought that the letter they delivered was from a secret lover rather than instructions your contact sent to help you conduct large scale espionage.
You didn't particularly care what they thought though. After all, they were all here to serve the Tsaritsa, the very woman whose regime you had sworn to destroy. Their judgements about your fidelity were of no interest to you.
When you reached the large dining hall, you were surprised to see your brother already sitting at one end of the table. He glanced, up guilt crossing his expression as he caught sight of you. You ignored it and sat in the seat across from him, reaching to spoon some of the fruit salad onto your plate.
"Brother."
"Good morning to you too, Y/N. I trust you slept well?"
"It could've been better." You shrugged, stretching the truth slightly to try and extract as much guilt as possible from him.
"I'm surprised to see you up so early," Alhaitham queried, "Going somewhere?"
"Yes, actually. I'm going into town shortly. So I will need to make use of your carriage." You explained, hoping he wouldn't press anymore about your business in town. Alas, your brother had always been contrary.
"Oh, really? What business do you have in town?"
You groaned internally.
"Not much really, just hoping to look around. Make myself familiar with my new subjects." You replied, staring levelly at your brother, trying to deflect from your lie by using his own pre-existing guilt.
Of course, your brother knew about your other profession, he was to be the next Lord of Sumeru, there was not much he didn't know about the goings on of his kingdom. But you still didn't like discussing it with him all that much, especially on enemy territory. And, despite his firm exterior, he was painfully protective over his younger sister. In some ways, that was why being sold off as the next Tsaritsa hurt so much.
Alhaitham winced and nodded slowly, finishing his mouthful.
"Ok. I'll tell the servants to prepare the carriage for you."
"Thank you."
The rest of the meal was spent in tense silence, the only noise being the clanking of silver cutlery on china plates. Eventually you excused yourself, returning to your room to put on more 'appropriate' attire.
Half an hour later you exited your chambers, a pale blue Snezhnayan gown hugging your figure and fur shawl draped about your shoulders. Your soft hair was still braided down your back, although now there were small rubies tucked into each twist. The same way your hair had been that fateful night at the ball.
One of your maids tried to follow you out of the palace and into the carriage, insisting on 'accompanying' you to town. More like spy on your every move. Luckily it didn't take much persuading to send her scurrying back inside, and so you entered the carriage alone but for the driver.
Inside the seats were covered in a crushed ruby velvet, silver studs lining the edge. The small windows were hemmed by silk curtains and the walls painted in different swirling patterns. Your brother had clearly rented one of the Snezhnayan carriages shortly after arriving. You had never seen one before that was so ornately decorated.
It was undeniable that Snezhnaya was the richest nation in Teyvat. Not only were the nobility exceedingly wealthy, but the peasant folk were also exceptionally well catered for, and some were even more comfortable than the middle classes of other nations. Back home in Sumeru, such obvious displays of wealth were scorned even by the nobility, and regarded as crass and insensitive. It was a belief that the more modest your outward appearance, the more humble and wise you inwardly became.
Perhaps Alhaitham thought he was giving you a better life by making you Tsaritsa, but you knew at heart that you would always love the simplicity of your homeland, slightly overwhelmed by the extravagance the Snezhnayans heralded.
Despite this, you couldn't help but admire the beautiful landscape that rolled past your window. The snow glinting on the branches of pine trees and icing the tops of distant stony mountains, small pawprints in the snow from tiny migrating animals. The sky was clear and blue, the air crisp and cold. It was not somewhere you had been built to withstand, but you did think you could get used to the feeling of not constantly sweating.
Finally, the town came into sight, and the horses pulling the carriage slowed to a stop. The driver came around to the side, opening the door and inviting you to step out. You thanked him and stepped down onto the hard cobbles of the street, now wishing slightly that you had chosen more suitable footwear than the precarious heels your maids had given you.
Nonetheless, you asked the driver to pick you up in two hours before making your way into the town. As you crossed the town to get to the bridge, all the townsfolk gawked at you. Wives nudged and whispered to their slack-jawed husbands, and little children gave you waves with their tiny hands. You smiled happily and waved back.
It was a rather quaint place, and the architecture was straight from the pages of some fairytale. Even the townspeople seemed like they were extras in a play, scurrying about like they were about to miss their queue for the town-wide musical number.
You bought a loaf of bread from one of the bakers and several books from another seller, eager to make sure that it didn't seem suspicious that you had come here out of the blue. You were sure that as much as you may be dressed like a Snezhnayan lady, you still had the aura of a foreigner. And it was definitely an added bonus that the bread smelled amazing.
At last, you reached the edge of the townsfolk, and low and behold, there was the bridge and the man you had come to meet.
"Kaeya." You said, smiling as you quicken your pace to reach him quicker.
The man turned around, lips quirked up in a smile as his eyes lit with mischief. He was exactly as you remembered, long hair that was so dark it seemed almost blue cascading down his shoulder in a low ponytail.
"Well well well. Didn't expect to see you here so soon. I'm surprised you didn't decide to be cruel and leave me in suspense."
"Me too. I suppose I could always leave…" You said, laughing slightly.
"No can do beautiful, too late to back out now."
"What a shame. I suppose you leave me no choice. Go on."
Kaeya needed no further prompting. He unbuckled his satchel and fished out a small picture, holding it up for you to see. In the photograph was a tall man with ruby red eyes and a swathe of pale hair pushed off to one side. Parts of his face were badly scarred and cut.
"And this is?"
"The lead scientist for the Fatui army's research division. Dottore, or 'The Doctor' as the harbingers have taken to calling him. He's leading the research into the gnosis' and is credited with applying them to their new purpose."
"Weapons."
"Astute as always, Y/N. Our mission is to stop Dottore before he has the opportunity to present his research to the Tsaritsa." Your blood ran cold.
"Stop? What do you mean by stop?"
"I mean, that no matter what, he cannot show his research to the Tsaritsa. And that we have to stop him by any means necessary."
"Assassination? Are you kidding me? Are you aware that these people are to be my advisors in a matter of months?"
"I'm well aware of your position, Y/N. But you're the best option for this. We all know it."
'We' of course meant the Akademiya. It was sick the way they controlled you, a member of the royal family, like you were one of their lap dogs.
"Besides, at the moment our priority is only to destroy those documents. No murder involved."
You had to admit, this information did give you a sliver of comfort, but you were still frustrated by how you had been forced into such a precarious position.
"Fine then. But please, do the honour of telling me, where will you be whilst I steal these incredibly important documents?"
Kaeya sighed, frustrated slightly by your attitude.
"I'll be distracting the targets of course."
Now it was your turn to sigh. Knowing Kaeya, you shouldn't be surprised that he was taking the easier job of the two.
"What's the plan then?"
He grinned.
"I knew you'd come around. In two days time the Tsaritsa will have a meeting with her advisors. Dottore, Scaramouche, Signora, Arlecchino et cetera. Afterwards, the Tsaritsa likes to have some form of entertainment for the remainder of the evening."
"You've got to be kidding me."
"No kidding here my dear. I have been hired to perform for them!"
You groaned, dragging your hands down your face. You almost started feeling sorry for those poor advisors.
"Kaeya, let's be frank, your magic is god awful. As in, genuinely horrendous."
"Good to know you're confident in my abilities. And yes, that is exactly the point. My performance will be so painfully bad that it will keep our target away from his office for a while"
You mulled over the plan for a second. True, Dottore was known to be a miserable sod, always ready to complain or mither about one thing or another. Another truth was that Dottore was a workaholic, barely ever seen outside of his office or laboratory. And Kaeya's magic was notoriously horrendous.
"It may just work. So where am I going to be finding these documents then? And how am I going to get in and get out?"
Kaeya chuckled slightly, his laughter increasing as he noticed the suspicious look on your face.
"That's the fun part. The documents are in a safe, the code will be supplied to you later. As for how you'll get in and out, it requires you to go… undercover."
Your expression soured, and it was unsurprising that you were against being shoved in some awful costume. And from the amusement on Kaeya's face, it was safe to say it was pretty awful.
"Oh god, what is it this time?" You groaned.
"You'll be infiltrating the house as a cleaner. A maid of sorts."
"A maid? Really? Do you think some frumpy dress and ridiculous hat are going to stop the Tsaritsa from recognising me as her successor?"
"No, I don't. So we are going to have to count on your paths not crossing. You'll enter Dottores office under the pretence of cleaning it, steal the documents, then place them in the shoot for the laundry, making sure it's wrapped in the piece of cloth I give you. I'll send it along with your outfit by tomorrow."
You couldn't deny it was a good plan. Just rather lowly work for an operative like yourself.
"So what will you be wearing for your disastrous performance?"
"Oh, something elegant I expect. A tuxedo, a coat with tails, maybe a top hat?" He smirked, finding himself incredibly funny.
"God I hate you." You sighed, "Well, I'll be seeing you in two days time?"
"Yes, I'll see you then."
You began to walk away back to the village, before Kaeya stopped you.
"Oh, I almost forgot," He fished something out of his pocket before handing it over to you. An akasha.
You smiled brightly at the sight of it, having been desperately missing it on the last operation at the ball.
"Thanks Kaeya. I'll make sure to hide it under my maid's cap."
"You better."
"Care to explain how this happened? Or should I call someone in and have you executed now?"
Scaramouche paled slightly, a bead of sweat rolling down his back. The expression of the man before him was like one he had never seen, not even when the former head of the army was in the heat of battle.
"I understand you're upset, your highness, but I can assure you that there was no crack in our system. The false alarm at the ball was precisely that: a false alarm. There had been no enemy infiltration into this palace. Perhaps if you-"
Scaramouche was suddenly cut off by the prince slamming his hands onto the table. He looked up to find that the former expression of pure rage had hardened into something much colder and more terrifying.
"Forgive me if I did not speak clearly before. I did not ask you to try and cover your ass, Scaramouche. I asked you to explain how it happened. If you do not know because you are the useless, spineless piece of work I suspect you are, then tell me so. Because I will allow you to scurry out of my office like the vermin you are and discover the cause of the leak. But I assure you, that if you continue to brazenly lie to me I will make good on my promise and decapitate you in the square at dawn!"
Childe straightened himself, drawing in a deep breath to try and retain a semblance of composure before addressing his head of security yet again.
"Now, tell me the truth. What has happened with my documents?"
Scaramouche gulped, regretting his decision to try and test the prince's patience today.
"I do not know, your highness. Believe me, I will not rest until I find out what has happened to them and squash the man responsible like a bug under my fist."
Childe's gaze did not change, retaining his harsh blue stare that stabbed into Scaramouche.
"You will indeed. I expect swift justice from you Scara. Otherwise you will be the only one being squashed."
"As I expected, your highness. May I take my leave now?"
"Yes, scurry away now. Oh, and send word for Signora to return immediately. I will need to have a meeting with her too."
The short man nodded before rushing out the door, eager to escape Childe's harsh glare as quickly as possible.
The prince leaned back in his chair, sighing loudly, before turning his mind back to the long list of other things that required his attention. And the number one thing on that list: discover the identity of his new bride.