Twenty Years Ago
Lady Focalors had shown up to his office at the crack of dawn.
The Iudex did not bother with the numerous plays that went on day and night at the Opera usually- there was too much work to be done. However, Focalors was not a person who would take no for an answer.
She asked Petronilla, her guard and Champion Duelist to leave them be for the morning, and he asked the same of Florent and Julius, the two Gardiens. Petronilla, ever-diligent, had instructed the Hydro Archon to keep an eye out for everything.
Lady Focalors talked to him throughout the entire journey from the Palais to the theatre. He gathered that the famed Phantom Opera were performing 'The Errant Princess'. He could not see why it was so important, but Lady Focalors seemed interested, so it would not do to spoil her fun.
She smiled her brilliant smile at every civilian they came across. They were awed, and all eyes turned to her when she walked into the theatre. It was a great honour for any director to welcome the Archon to their play, and today it would be Adele Rosalyne's.
However, the greatest show of gratitude would be an unforgettable performance.
Surprisingly, Lady Focalors insisted to sit in the front row, instead of her usual place on the throne. There was something he was not aware about in this performance. Or maybe he was suspecting too much.
She sat beside him, all giddy. Truth be told, even he was getting curious about this play. Was it truly a gem of its time?
The curtains rose.
On the stage was probably the most beautiful woman he had seen since his birth. She'd worn a pink, strapless silk gown that brushed the floor as she walked. She smiled and hummed tunes as she went about doing mundane tasks- cooking, sweeping the floor as she sung to herself and the likes.
The narrator, a woman in her forties, spoke. "Oh Jeanne! My lovely Jeanne! How soon were you taken, and your happiness was so fleeting. This is a story of a girl turned queen, queen turned witch, and the girl returned."
"The girl was content to garden and make merry all day. Maybe roam about with her friends in the forest and sing to the birds. But fate had other plans."
The girl on the stage revealed a crown on her head, and was carried off by a group of actors dressed as peasants to a throne in the middle of the stage. She looked heartbroken. The curtains fell.
"Gone were the days of frolicking with her friends and being a normal girl. The weight on her head held no mercy for her, and somehow neither did her charges. So the Jeanne who'd grown up loving flowers and poems hid away, and so was birthed Jeanne the princess, that talked big and made bold promises, just like her people wanted her to. Thus did the girl turn into a queen."
When the curtains arose again, her gown was gone. She now donned a shining set of armour, with a shield and spear to boot. Her smile remained as huge as ever, but didn't quite reach her eyes. She showed off to the peasants around her, and they clamored to meet her.
"Though they were not the birds and critters she left behind, or the winds that caressed her when she strolled in the forest, she came to love these people all the same. Because they were the same as she was- innocent and blind to the fate of this world. She did make some friends- nobody could reasonably live without trusting another person for so long. She made these friends her trusty subordinates, who advised her and guided her."
"And then there was famine."
Suddenly, the peasants dropped on the floor like their string had been cut, and the girl's face twisted. She ran across the room, shaking them seemingly to get them to wake up, but to no avail. She sat down on the floor, her head on her knees.
"There was nothing she could do. She neither was a woman of the land, nor was she a woman of science- how could she help in any manner? But a false ray of hope is better than the crushing despair of darkness. So she did whats she did best. She filled their ears with lies of safety and bliss on the horizon, all while her trusted subordinates looked for ways to battle the famine."As light rain fell on the Opera Epiclese's roof, Jeanne cried out to all to join her. The peasants slowly got up and went towards her, their smiles growing. A pang of familiarity rushed through him when Neuvillette saw her face- Jeanne was smiling, even as tears fell from her eyes. Why did this feel familiar? He did not know- he couldn't ever recall meeting a person like this.
Though he could tell why it was so heart-wrenching. How noble is a sad heart, that sings joyous songs with joyous hearts.
"Alas, the truth will always find its way to the surface, no matter how hard it is buried. The people found out, and they wanted blood. They say that a person is smart, but the people are less so. Fear and anger brings out the worst in people. Instead of focusing on the famine that was causing such widespread death, the mob wanted to punish the lying witch. Surely, she must be the cause of the catastrophe! Thus, the queen turned into a witch."
Gasps sounded across the theatre when the peasants following the queen picked up pitchforks. They surrounded her and pointed these pitchforks at her. She despaired, trying to convince them that they were wrong. The crowd grew closer.
"Yet, the night is darkest before the dawn."
All of a sudden, five people rushed on stage, guarding 'Jeanne'. The crowd backed off, and these five waved at the crowd, beckoning them as friendlies.
"Her friends had come for her. They had found a solution to the famine, and convinced the public of her innocence. The public, who had come to despise her in desperation, now loved her."
A hand-carriage was brought on stage, and 'Jeanne' sat in it along with her friends.
"Jeanne selected a successor, and stepped down from her post to go back to living in the forest- back to her mundane life, where she was friends with the trees, birds and critters. Her kingdom-friends still visited her, and she lived happily to the end of her days. Thus, did the girl return."
'Jeanne' was back in her gown, tending to the house once more. She held a tea-party with her friends and laughed all the while. To signify the end of the play, all the actors came on stage and held their hands as they bowed to the audience, to polite clapping.
…It was a terrible play, to say the least.
There was no pacing in the story at all. The highs were low, and lows were too shallow. Though the plot of a fake princess lying to thrive was original and the lead actress was superb, nothing else in the play was beyond reproach. He turned to his Archon. How had Lady Focalors thought to waste time o-
Her eyes were shining. Furina de Fontaine had the purest smile he had ever seen on her face, and her hands were clasped together in front of her chest. She only had eyes for play and the lead actress on stage. Here was probably, no, surely the most beautiful person he had ever seen.
There were some things only a person who has been a companion for centuries could decipher. Seeing his Archon off her act was a sight to behold. She played the part of a superficial God, but he knew how she had agents all around Fontaine looking for ways to avert the flood. Her smile that usually did not reach her eyes had finally given way to a real one, and he did not wish for it to disappear.
He would keep his criticisms of the play to himself. There were some things that his Archon could honestly do without knowing.
Xxxx
Lady Furina de Fontaine had never had any favourite actresses, but this one was special. Eloise Rosalyne, or 'Jeanne', was then invited to a lot of tea parties hosted by the Archon, where they had cakes and tea and exchanged tips. Eloise became the talk of the town- nobody had managed to land in the Archon's good graces yet.
Adele Rosalyne, director of the Phantom Opera and mother of Eloise Rosalyne was awarded extensively for her rendition of 'The Errant Princess'.
All was well, until one day, Eloise went missing.
Xxxx
He had come with his Archon as a show of support. He knew how important Eloise Rosalyne had become to her in the short time she had spent with her, but such was the curse of immortality. He had gained and lost a lot of friends himself, but this was not about him.
Now that Eloise had been missing for over a month, a funeral had been held. Lady Focalors looked as proper as ever. Adele Rosalyne wailed on the other end of the coffin after the ceremony ended. There were only a handful of people remaining here now.
He was confused though. Lady Focalors was humming- this was generally frowned upon in funerals, especially that of a friend. Eloise and Furina had been friends, had they not?
The wails quietened, and Adele walked up to the Archon. Her head was low, and her eyes had the same hopeless look every grieving mother ever had. His head whipped towards her when she screamed at the Archon.
"You should have done more! More search groups, more officer on the case, anything! She was your friend! Now you're here singing on my baby's funeral! HOW DARE YOU! HOW DARE YOU!"
She ran out of steam, and dropped to the ground as she started wailing again. Lady Focalors had stopped her humming, and her face was as cold as stone.
"So presumptuous. She was a pet- nothing more, nothing less."
Adele clawed at Furina's feet as the Ordalie officers dragged her back. The sounds she were making were very distressing. He almost wanted to hurl.
He had seen how her fist had tightened as Focalors said those words. Yet another lie. What cause had this one served?
xxxxxx
Ms. Yamomotoof the Kamisato clan of Inazuma smiled as her Sumerian counterpart laughed merrily at one of her own jokes. Ms. Anvari, judging from the time she had spent with her, was a ray of sunshine compared to the bleak atmosphere around them wondered how much of it was her professional mask, and how much of it was truly her. Not that she could ever tell. She hadn't been able to when it mattered the most.
She made small talk with her as they walked to the Gardien's office. He had requested a meeting with them at eight in the morning, and she was quite sure what for.
The Liyuean and Snezhnayan ambassadors to Fontaine had been very agitated yesterday regarding the prophecy. An article in the Steambird's newspaper yesterday- an interview with Mr. Rousseau himself, no less- had scared Mr. Hwang out of his wits.
From what she'd read, Mr. Rousseau had given a dire warning to all of Fontaine to treat the prophecy as they would treat any truth, and not some ever-distant promise of calamity. He had recounted the horrors he had faced at Poisson, and how he'd seen people dissolve into nothing, leaving naught but their clothes behind. The waters had risen so fast that five tourists staying in Poisson had also drowned. She recalled the coldness that had crept into her body while she read the article- the threat of the Primordial Seawater was very real. Nobody was safe.
The expected happened- almost everyone that had been taking the prophecy as some local folklore, got the fright of their lives, and they protested for transport that simply wasn't there. She understood, of course, how thin the Maison Ordalie were stretched right now. That the Gardien himself was meeting with them instead of Ms. Chevalier was a rather obvious sign. Still, she was thankful that even in such dire times, the Ordalie was acting quickly to solve their issues.
They stepped into the Gardien's office, and he rose to greet them. She bowed, and Ms. Anvari joined her hands in what her people called a namaste. Mr. Rousseau sat down and gestured towards the two empty chairs at his desk. She nodded once and took the chair to her left.
"Greetings Ms. Yamomotoand Ms. Anvari. I am Alfonso Rousseau, Gardien de Fontaine. I thank you for accepting our request to meet at such short notice."
Ms. Anvari laughed it off, talking in her usual way that demanded familiarity from all. " There's no need for thanks, Alfonso- it's not like we had anything to do! In fact, I'd say this gave us a much needed reprieve from Marfa's constant droning and whining. Don't you agree, Yuki?"
She coughed and blushed. Why did she have to drag her into this gossip? So uncouth!
However, loth as she was to admit it, Anvari was somewhat correct. No shame in badmouthing a dirty Fatuus. "Although her worries are legitimate, her behaviour was rather ill-fitting of her post."
Presently, an attendant stepped into the room, and walked up to their table with a teapot and a tray with three cups in his hands. Mr. Rousseau nodded to him in greeting, and the attendant set down his tray. He poured the tea in the cups and left the room. Yamomoto saw as Mr. Rousseaulet her and Anvari take their cups before taking it himself, as was custom in her homeland. She hid her smile by bringing the cup to her lips.
Ms. Anvari made to speak again, but stopped herself when Mr. Rousseau coughed. He cleared his throat.
"Forgive my bluntness ladies, but let us end the pleasantries and get to what we're here for. Time is of the essence, both for you and for me. The less we waste on meaningless drivel, the better."dire enough
She nearly choked on her tea.
This… was not how talks worked! You wasted time trying to push for about trade agreements that would never succeed, then wasted a little more time talking in circles and having a 'meaningful exchange of views' (that is, utter hogwash). Actual, useful work was way down the list. This was how she was trained. She absolutely hated it.
So she was liking this man already.
Anvari schooled her face, and Yamomotosat a little straighter. If Mr. Rousseau wished to play hardball, she would not deny him that.
"Then let me begin, Mr. Rousseau. I require a ship for myself and the fifty-three Inazuman immigrants and officials that have contacted me. To my knowledge, there is a weekly ship that goes from Romaritime Harbor to Port, but that one hasn't plied on its course for close to three weeks now. The last one had left at full capacity after the serial killer had been caught."
She sipped on her tea when she finished, giving him some time to answer. However, Ms. Anvari felt like this would be the best time to pose her request too.
"Likewise, eighty-nine Sumerians want transport to Bayda Harbor. The rest have already left, or want to remain here to record how the prophecy unfolds for the Akademiya. This is the calm before the storm, Mr. Rousseau, and I want to be as far away from Fontaine when this storm hits."
Yamomotohadn't meant to team up on Mr. Rousseau with Anvari like that- it was a tactic used only when one wanted to put extra pressure on their counterparts. Then again, she supposed this was a situation dire enough that it warranted its use. Every person on this table had something they wanted from the other to necessitate their survival, and no one would back down.
Also, Anvari had slipped into calling the Gardien by his surname, following customs. Seems like that was part of her mask that slipped off then.
She'd heard that there were no passenger ships left in Romaritime Harbor, and no one was willing to sail to Fontaine from anywhere else due to the ever-present threat of the prophesied flood. Nobody wanted to be out in the sea when the flood came. She would not be surprised if the Gardien couldn't muster a transport for them, it was frankly impossible.
Silence fell. Two pairs of eyes stared discreetly at the Gardien as he mulled over his thoughts.
He opened a drawer in his desk and took out a sheet of paper and a pen. His pen flew over the sheet for a minute and a half. She tried to make out the words, but apart from 'Euphrasie' and 'ships', she couldn't.
When he was done, he called out to someone in the hallway.
"Antonio!"
Said 'Antonio' glided into the room, his steps not making a single sound. Ms. Anvari's breath hitched at his silent entry. Yamomoto marvelled at it- did he know the ways of the Shuumatsuban?
Mr. Rousseau handed the sheet over to Antonio. " Get this to Euphrasie at the Steambird as soon as possible. Dismissed."
Antonio nodded once, and left the same way he came- somehow even faster and more silent. The Gardien turned towards them next.
"Though passenger ships cannot be secured, three cargo carriers will be at Romaritime Harbor tomorrow- one for LIyue, Sumeru and Inazuma each. Extra space will be taken by Monstadtians and Snezhnayans who wish to leave, even if their ambassadors are either not present or haven't approached the authorities regarding the same. The docks near the north of the Palais will have transport ships to ferry you to Romaritime Harbor tomorrow at seven in the evening- we won't be using the Aquabuses due to the obvious criminally bad logistics of moving close to three hundred people using low capacity transport."
As the Gardien listed off the terms, Yamomoto's mind reeled. How, and who did he convince to sail those ships? It was an impossible task, and he'd accomplished it. Inazuma will have to return the favor to maintain relations. She hoped his request wouldn't be too outlandish.
"Now that I have completed your requests, allow me to pose mine. You already know of the prophecy. My colleagues believe they can avert it. I'd rather be prepared for the worst, and hope for the best."
Yamomoto shook herself out of her stupor. Anvari, finally finding words, chimed in. "You don't believe in your colleagues' capability to avert the disaster, Mr. Rousseau?"
Mr. Rousseau grinned. "Someone must play the Devil's advocate, Ms. Anvari. Regardless, what I require is …post-calamity assistance."
Her heart sunk, and she just barely kept it from showing on her face. Her chair creaked under her.
"Grains, clean water and clothes that could be brought over by ships after the flood has passed for all survivors stranded, and some basic disaster relief programs. Although we have our own emergency food reserves, there is no telling whether they would survive the prophesied flood."
Mr. Rousseau studied their faces after his request concluded. Yamomoto looked down at the desk, feeling a bit ashamed. She spotted Anvari doing the same out of the corner of her eye.
When she looked up at the Gardien, his face was unreadable. His grin was gone, and she couldn't tell if there was any disappointment or anger at their silent refusal.
The Gardien smiled at her, and her heart hurt. "It is no issue, ladies. Archon willing, we will never need that aid. I still have Snezhnaya on the line. Seeing as our business has concluded, I bid you a good day."
"I truly wish we could help you, Mr. Rousseau, but Sumeru's Akasha crisis has left everyone blind. Only a few actually know how to grow crops and use resources, while the rest of the country is reeling. My apologies." Anvari spluttered.
Sheapologised under her breath, and made a hasty exit out of the room, leaving Yamomoto and Mr. Rousseau alone in the room. She didn't get up, and instead sat there, thinking. She was probably wasting the Gardien's time, given that he now knew Inazuma couldn't help Fontaine. But there was one way that she could try to help.
Yamomoto mumbled. "Inazuma was, until recently, embroiled in a civil war Mr. Rousseau. Our resources are already running short treating the wounded and making up for the grain destroyed by both sides in a bid to starve the other. I regret that Inazuma cannot possibly help in this regard."
A sorry attempt at an excuse, however truthful it may be. Her pride chafed- she'd received help, but was refusing to help Fontaine. How pitiful.
Mr. Rousseau chuckled. "You do not need to justify your actions, Ms. Yamomoto. Foreign relations is not a give-and-take game. It is Fontaine's duty to protect guests in her territory, but it's not Inazuma's duty to provide aid. It was a simple request, nothing more."
She would have left then, but he had said that he'd ask for help from Snezhnaya too.
Back in the Inazuman Civil War, Lord Kamisato himself had ordered her to oversee their secret Watatsumi allies from within, and to report back any developments through letters. She'd been there when the Fatui had arrived with their 'wonderful' Delusions, to aid them in the war. She had stormed beaches and forts with them, their superior guns helping them, and had seen the first few Delusion users being awestruck with the power they had. The few became hundreds, and they went from losing land to gaining land. She had been taken in too- she even had made friends with some Fatui. It seemed too good to be true.
It was.
Her skin prickled with goosebumps, and she clenched her fist to stop herself from shaking. She remembered the horrors she'd faced at Yashiori Island. She remembered how 'Nathan' had goaded her friends into breaking the Wards. She remembered how she had to put her friend down like a.. like a rabid dog,after he had been maddened by the Tataragami.
Most of all, she remembered the Mikage Furnace at the end of everything, where she had stabbed that traitor in the heart, and had watched the life drain out of his eyes.
She wondered if that even was that Fatui spy's real name. It did not matter. The Fatui and Snezhnayans had brought nothing but misery and death for her people in the guise of aid. She'll be damned if she let it happen again.
The Snezhnayan- pardon her Fontainian- bitch was not a very good actor. Yamomoto had seen how Marfa had cried crocodile tears after reading Mr. Rousseau's interview, and Yamomoto had no doubt that she would use it as leverage againt the Gardien to further her schemes.
(Looking back, she could have delivered her warning in a less… 'hands-on' method, but her trauma of Yashiori had been acting up. It was probably the best possible outcome.)
Her hand shot over the table, grabbing Mr. Rousseau's wrist. The Gardien looked at her in alarm, his other hand flying to the sword at his waist, but she kept staring at the desk. She didn't trust her face not to give away the fear and anger she felt right now.
"Listen to me very carefully, Mr. Rousseau. Do not believe a SINGLE word that comes out of any Fatuus's mouth. Every single one of the Fatui is scum, and should die like scum. They will use anything and everything to make you bow to their demands. They WRECKED my homeland. I don't want that to happen to Fontaine too." She spat out in a frenzy, her breaths heavy and fast.
The Gardien stared at her in silence. A tear broke free. She let go of his hand and rushed out of the room, unable to hold her tears back anymore.
xxxxx
Clorinde made her way up the spiral staircase at the Duke's office, her heels tapping on the metal stairs. He'd invited her here for tea, and Clorinde had thought it would be rude to refuse. Left unsaid was the fact that refusing tea was close to a war-crime in both her and the Duke's book.
He was pouring the tea into the cups when she saw him. He jerked his head upwards as a greeting, and she nodded. It was time for the fated duel of the ages.
A smile bloomed on his face."You're here, huh. Here's your tea. Wanna sit, or do you want to go sightseeing?"
"I doubt there is much left to sightsee down in the prison, Mr. Wriothesley. I'd rather sit here and make the most of the little time I get to myself." Clorinde said as she sat down on the couch.
His eyebrows waggled." And you're choosing to spend this precious time of yours with me? Consider me flattered, Miss Clorinde- should I consider this a date?"
She huffed."In your deams, Duke. Here are your codices. I bought them off the shelf at Hubel's bookstore. Perhaps it'd help you familiarize yourself with these foreign laws you find yourself so unfortunately constrained by."
Wriothesley's eyebrows crinkled. "It hasn't even been twenty seconds since you stepped into my office, and you've already insulted me two times. You should know better than to insult me in my own Kingdom, Champion Duelist."
"Do you want to turn away a guest you yourself invited, Duke? Considering you abandoned the last shred of respect you have for yourself and did so, you won't be able to make me leave anyway."
Wriothesley raised his hands in surrender, and Clorinde let herself smile. Clorinde- three, Wriothesley-one .
It'd become something of a tradition for them to verbally spar with each other every time they met, and Clorinde was in the lead. It was fun, so she saw need for these sessions to stop.
"Jokes aside, there really is something I want you to see below. Come on." He slid down the guardrail of the stairs, disappearing from view. Clorinde almost groaned as she got up and ran down the stairs. She caught up to him as he was walking towards the 'secret' part of his office. The floor rumbled, and the built-in elevator began taking them down towards the deepest depths of Meropide.
"So what is this thing that you wanted to show me? A new project of yours?"Clorinde asked.
"It's nothing new, just some developments on old projects. See for yourself."
She could hear Jurieu and Lourvine quarreling long before she saw them.
"You utter moron, Jurieu! Don't underestimate my calculations! Keep adding useless stuff like this to the ship, and it'll sink before it even hits the water, dumbass!"A female voice shrieked.
"It is mathematically impossible to underestimate you, idiot." Clorinde added that to her mental library." This useless stuff might as well save your life, Lourvine. Yeah, yeah, keep rolling your eyes, you might even find a brain back there." Wriothesley's eyes widened, and lips twisted into a circular shape. Lourvine gasped in outrage.
"Alright, alright. Calm down you two. Jurieu, are you done with the ship's modifications?"Wriothesley interrupted.
Jurieu and Lourvine whirled around, their eyes wide. "Yes, Duke! Ship's hull will handle high pressures effortlessly. Ration stores have also been waterproofed!"
"That's nice then. I have left a list at my desk in my office. Go take a look."
Jurieu nodded, and pulled Lourvine along, who was still hiding her face in shame. It was silent for all of twenty seconds, after which she could hear sounds of the pair arguing again. Wriothesley sighed.
"It'd be much better for everyone's sanity if they got married already. Every time I hear them arguing, I can feel my blood pressure rise." He said as they walked.
They reached the observatory room, and she beheld the great ship. Wriothesley had named his ship the 'Arche de Fontaine', after a ship of legend that had prevented extinction of all life after a great deluge had fallen upon that world.
As far as appearances went, it measured up to its gigantic task of rescuing all of Fontaine from the flood. She could hardly believe it ha d been built within a year- Jurieu and Lourvine were geniuses.
"Impressive, isn't it?" Wrio nudged her smugly.
"Of course, Duke. How many people will it fit?" She questioned.
"I don't have the exact numbers, but probably a lot." She raised a single eyebrow at him, and he snickered.
He continued." Seriously, though. Jurieu told me it has some lifeboats that we can turn into extra space for people. Although, Archon willing, we will never need the ship."
They continued downwards, towards the seal Sir Neuvillette had put on the Primordial Sea. It reminded her of how close Wriothesley had been to dying the ast time they were here.
Three doors creaked open, and her eyes found the the far-off blue glow of the seal. They were here.
As her vision went over the railing, she fought to keep her face from twisting. She gripped the railing tightly.
"Sir Neuvillette's seal… It's cracking."
Wriothesley leaned againt the wall and craned his head back. He shut his eyes and sighed. "Yeah, that is what I wanted to show you. These cracks only appeared today."
They had appeared only today? Their conspiracy against the divine was kicking off tomorrow. Clorinde was not superstitious, but these ill omens were clear to even her. Her brows furrowed in thought.
She thought carefully of what to say next. Wriothesley was trustworthy, but Sir had asked not to reveal the plan to anyone. However, a little warning should be fine.
"Wriothesley, me and some of my friends… are going to do something big tomorrow. I can't tell you what it is, but it will either save us from our fate, or accelerate us towards it."
Wriothesley listened intently, allowing her a moment of thought. She sighed. "And now the seal is breaking. Nothing is looking good. What I am saying is keep yourself and your ship ready. If all is lost, you will be our last hope."
Even the always-joking Wriothesley couldn't say anything to that.
Xxxx
Alfonso was in his office's balcony, watching the dusk sky turn dark. His hand held a glass of wine that he sipped from time to time. The Snezhnayan ambassador was late.
Miss Yamomoto's warning had shaken him a bit. It was as if she had seen some ghost. Her grip had been hard, and her skin had been pale as a sheet. He think he knew what it was. He had sported that look too once.
That's why he was taking that warning as seriously as he was. To anyone else, her actions would seem like a poor ploy to damage relations between Snezhnaya and Fontaine. But he had seen how raw her emotions had been at that moment- that could not be faked by any human.
She had seen some shit in the Civil War. He truly hoped she could live with it.
Regardless, the Fatuus Marfa Romanov had to be regarded cautiously. Any offer hadto be judged rigorously, and no weaknesses should be shown.
The knock on his office door startled him. Antonio should have opened the door himself. He walked up to the door and opened it.
The person in front of him could only be described as white. She had a fluffy white fur coat on that reached her knees, and had white hair with streaks of black running through them. She'd worn white trousers, and had nigh- invisible black boots on. Her purse was white, sewn with black strings. She was shorter than him by four inches or so.
She looked up at him, and gave him a dazzling smile. A lesser man would be enthralled, he gave her that. He stood aside to let her in.
She talked as she took off her coat to reveal the white shirt underneath. "Greetings, Mr. Rousseau. I apologize for being so late. I hope I didn't cause any trouble for you." She spoke in a high voice.
"None at all, Ms. Romanov. Has your stay at Fontaine been to your liking?" He had expected someone who smiled less from the way Yamomoto had described her. Until he could figure out what she wanted, nothing of importance was to brought up.
"Oh, it's been absolutely wonderful! The Errinyes Forest was mesmerizing, and the views from Mount Esus are as beautiful as the mountains of my homeland. Oh, and the children are so sweet! I love Fontaine to bits, Mr. Rousseau."
It was very subtle, and he might not have caughtit if he wasn't paying attention, but he could see the exaggerated cheer and the forcedsweetness with which Romanov talked. Something was definitely up- he must not let his guard down.
He led her to her seat and they both sat down on his couch. Romanov prattled on and on about one thing or the other. He knew what she was doing- endear yourself to the buyer, and the buyer will be much more likely to be loose with their cash. Unfortunately for her, this would not work on him. He tuned her out to think of how to proceed with his aid he would-
"Gardien."
His eyes focused on the Fatuus again. All pretenses of cheer had gone from her face. "It is very clear that you aren't buying my act, so let us start over. I am Marfa Romanov, agent of the Ninth Harbinger. Lord Regrator sends his regards."
Romanov's reveal had shaken Alfonso's mind awake. The title 'Harbinger' carried a lot of weight in the world. What interest did the Ninth Harbinger have in Fotaine, especially in these uncertain times?
He cleared his throat. "If that is so, then I am Alfonso Rousseau, Gardien de Fontaine. Fontaine welcomes you, Ms. Romanov. Tell me, how can I help you?"
Her gaze did not falter from him. "Snezhnaya has no need of Fontaine's help, Mr. Rousseau. Thereare enough brave Snezhnayan pilots and ships to evacuate all the Snezhnayans in Fontaine. What I am interested in is what I can do for YOU, Gardien de Fontaine."
A sentence that should have brought relief to Alfonso, instead ended up doing the opposite. "Fontaine has no need of aid, Ms. Romanov. The prophecy, of which I have no doubt that you are aware, is being handled internally. However, I do appreciate the offer fo-"
Shrill giggles interrupted him. Ms. Romanov, it seemed, had saw fit to not listen to him any longer. His finger just twitched. "Surely you jest, Mr. Gardien? Though my previous stance was more of an act, not all that I said were lies. The children here are cute, and wouldn't it be a shame if even one of them, after surviving the flood, died hungry and sad?"
Pin-drop silence followed. Breathe in, breathe out.Alfonso's temper flared. He regulated his breathing, and his clenched fist almost drew blood. He knew that she was trying to make him emotionally vulnerable- an angry person was easier to trick, but it was still difficult to not be indignant at such an insensitive, vexing comment. It reminded him too much of what he had seen back at the Fleurve Cendre.
"What do you mean, Ms. Romanov?" He hissed through clenched teeth.
"You know as well as I do that all your emergency stores of food will be washed away by this flood of the ages. What will the survivors eat, after all is said and done? You won't have any grain, any fresh water and no clean clothes for the masses. Moreover, I know that you ARE aware of this. Although, your requests for aid from other nations have been less than successful, haven't they?" She smiled, almost devilishly.
How did she know? All meetings had been private, under surveillance of the Ordalie. Yet, she had made a compelling point. Not a single nation had agreed to provide aid, and Snezhnaya was his last hope.
"But worry not, because Snezhnaya will help. We are willing to provide food, fresh water, clothes- whatever emergency relief you desire."
"What's the price, Ms. Romanov?" He asked carefully. It would be amateurish to show too much enthusiasm.
Romanov's smile widened. "Not much. All Lord Harbinger asks is to be allowed to set up some Snezhnayan stores right after the waters recede, and a paltry sum of a billion Mora. For this price, Fatui ships will be ready to move in the moment the flood subsides, carrying essential items and also rescuing survivors."
…That's it? That did not seem much at all to Alfonso. A billion Mora was nothing- their profits from Fontaine Research Instituteof Kinetic Energy Engineering alone had made over three times the amount. This looked like a good deal, a great one in fact! He couldn't see anything wrong with the Snezhnayan sellers- Fontaine had a mostly free market. The deal looked to good to be true.
Yamomoto's warning echoed in his mind. Everything has a price.
He was missing something. The one weird thing about the offer was the Snezhnayan sellers. Regrator was greedy- it was an open secret at this point. What would he stand to gain from this deal? Alfonso could not believe that he was doing out of the good of his own heart.
After the flood, all of Fontaine's local businesses and stores would be wiped out. It would be the Ordalie's duty to fund these businesses, but most of the treasury would likely be emptied on restoration and repair work of the country. There wouldn't be any Mora to jumpstart the economy. On the other hand, people will be desperate for any kind of help, and they won't have any other businesses to buy from…
… except the Snezhnayan shops.
Realization dawned on him. The billion Mora was to make sure the treasury stays empty, so that the Ordalie couldn't help. Meanwhile, the Snezhnayan businessmen would gain a strong foothold in Fontaine, so much so that Fontaine's local businessmen would never have the chance to make profit again. The Regrator's shops would be selling goods at marked-up prices to profit. As Fontaine struggles to pick herself up, her Mora will line the pockets of the Regrator. Fontaine's economy would never recover, and Regrator would get an infinite source of Mora.
The Fatui truly were cutthroat. To profit off a disaster… it made him hate the Regrator from the bottom of his heart.
He looked up to see that Marfa had been staring at him.
"So what will it be, Mr. Rousseau?" She asked.
"Fontaine… does not accept the Regrator's terms, Ms. Romanov. Tell the Regrator that if he wants to rob Fontaine, he will have to be a bit more clever next time. Fontaine has seen through his schemes."
He took a small amount of pleasure in seeing her eyes widen just a bit seeing the anger in his own. Served her right.
"Are you really sure about that, Gardien? If you reject us, you have no other backup left. All the other nations have refused to help you. Is this really the wisest course of action?" She was getting desperate. Alfonso wondered if she'd be demoted or downright executed by the Regrator for failing her task.
"You may leave now, Ms. Romanov." He wasn't going to deal with such conniving bastards any longer.
"You will regret this, Gardien! Lord Harbinger's ships will be here in this wretched land after the flood, and they'll sell their services at such a high price that Fontaine will remain in debt for centuries!" Huh, maybe she wouldbe getting executed. No other reason for a person to fight this much. It felt really nice toying with her now.
She got up from her seat, and slammed the door on her way out.
A smile found its way on Alfonso's face. He promised himself to give Ms. Yamomoto a treat after all is said and done.
Xxxx
Euphrasie was rather pleased.
Charlotte's newest article (an interview with Alfonso she'd managed to get, somehow) had brought up their rating again. Though the interview was nothing but depressing, it had given clarity in ways the Hydro Archon had not been able to give
o Fontaine when the entire nation was on edge. Charlotte had been giddy for an entire day after that.
She sat in her office, writing a reply to probably the hundredth request of an interview with the Iudex. No Mr. Petit, she didn't know him personally, nor did anyone she knew. She lay her head on her desk as she tried to rest for a bit. Honestly, their readers demands were so outlandish at times.
The wind opened the shut windows with a soft clink. Her eyes tiredly moved towards the windows to see a envelope fluttering in the air inside the room. What? She didn't keep any letters by the window, did she?
She opened the envelope, and took out the letter in it.
Dear Euphrasie,
How have you been? I hope the 'children' at the editing house aren't giving you much trouble.
I am honestly in a big pickle right now. Sometimes I wonder if these ambassadors are even worth the hassle. Anyways, I'd like to cash in my favour. I need a ship and crew charted for Ritou Harbor, one charted for Bayda Harbor and one charted for Yilong Wharf. It's pretty important- these ships are for the ambassadors and whoever they're taking back to their nations. I know getting even one ship is difficult nowadays, but it's you, so you'll be able to do it.
Thanks
Alfonso
She groaned and let her head hit the table. This was going to be so exhausting.
She put away the letter she was writing, and took out another sheet of paper. Hmmm… yeah, she could work. The set her pen to the paper, and began writing.
Galathee, it's Euphrasie. I heard you were itching to set sail soon…
Xxxx
Night had settled on Fontaine. While the elite few of Fontaine prepared to fight against their fate, the minds of the city churned.
Madam Rosalyne, Director of the Phantom Opera, was sitting on her bed in her room. She hummed as she sewed together the costume of their most recent hire. The actress, although a bit timid, was a sensation on the stage. Nowhere close to her, but she was a working replacement.
Their performance four days ago had been… subpar. The masked man had destroyed herreturn-performance that she had been preparing for ten years. Anything less than perfect was unacceptable. To remedy that, they were going to perform again tomorrow.
Twenty years ago, herfinal performance had been perfect. A flawed performance would be a disservice to both their names.
She heard a commotion outside and footsteps rapidly approaching, and resumed her sewing. Gallista would handle it.
Gallista barged in through the door. He was in a hurry, and his face was marred with confusion. He remained at the door, unsure of whether he could come in or not. His eyes darted between her and whatever he saw at the end of the hallway.
"M-Madam Rosalyne! A man forced himself through the gate! He wants to speak with you!" He stammered. He wasn't the best at handling pressure, apparently.
It seems her attention was required.
Keeping her hands steady, she set down the threaded needle, and put on her night slippers. Gallista's face brightened, and he rushed out of the door, likely to lead her to the man. Her floorboards creaked as she walked through the hallway to the troupe's common room. The commotion had died down, and when she stepped inside, she laid her eyes on the man in the question.
He had a wild look about him. His hands clutched his clothes like his life depended on it, and he kept muttering under his breath. He had seen fit to sit on the ground, and kept rocking back and forth, holding his head. There was a a familiar look of rage and confusion in his eyes, one she had not seen in a long time.
She'd last seen it in a mirror, twenty years ago. This was no random- he was a man on a mission.
The moment he saw her, it was as if someone had stoked the fire in his head. He dashed on all fours towards her quickly and threw himself in front of her. Anastasia, the help, screamed and Gallista rushed to hold the pauper back. She raised her hand, and all commotion halted.
She looked at the man on the ground. "Tell me monsieur, what is your name and what do you seek from me?"
"My name is Robespierre, and I want vengeance."
Note:
This chapter was much later then expected- blame my semester exams. As for the chapter, Furina's in for a lot of trouble- her mindbreak of learning about Poisson from Neuvillette isn't going to happen (because Alfonso burst into their meeting all bloodied up lol), so something a lot worse is waiting for her in the store, courtesy Rosalyne and Robespierre.
Wriothesley's ship's importance was way too understated in canon- its going a lot more important here, so watch out for that. For the lore bros, do you guys remember 'Nathan' from Inazuma? If yes, then you'd understand why Yamomoto was so pissed off.
Please keep reading and drop a review about what you liked in this chapter, or what you'd like to see improve in my writing. Next chapter would be soon-ish