Chapter Text
Sucrose, September 12
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“Sir Albedo, are you absolutely sure this is a good idea?”
“Yes Sucrose,” Albedo said, breathlessly, his eyes sparking with excitement as he slipped his feet out of his tight dress shoes and into soft sandals. “I’m absolutely sure.”
“What if Master Rhinedottir ends her study early today?” Surcorse asked, chewing on her fingernails as she always did when she was nervous.
“She won’t,” Albedo breathed, barely hiding a smile as he slipped on a steel blue cloak, quickly fastening the clasp at his sternum. “Trust me, when she gets like this, she won’t.”
“Gets like what?”
“Obsessive, over her work and such. Honestly, I’m the same way. You could say it’s one of the traits we share.”
“I’d say,” Sucrose sighed, as bewildered as she had been ever since Albedo had cast aside his books at the precise moment the grand clock struck six—the time Master Rhinedottir had permitted him to end his studies every day.
She peered behind him into his private bedroom where she could already see his silk tunic and exquisitely embroidered corset strewn across the floor as if they were any old cotton garment. She couldn’t see them clearly, but she was sure that the neatly-pressed black slacks he had exchanged for loose brown capris were probably crumpled somewhere beneath his bed.
She shook her head. Sir Albedo was usually very neat, and took very good care of himself and others. It was only when he got extremely passionate about something like this that he would neglect to notice all his surroundings.
Sucrose sighed. “Does Captain Dainsleif know you’re sneaking out tonight?”
“Of course not,” Albedo laughed, light and crisp like the gentle tap of the crystals hanging from the small chandelier above them. “Although, I wouldn’t be surprised if he has already figured out that I am. He’s a bit too observant for his own good.”
“Aren’t you a bit concerned about how he’ll react if he finds out?”
“Ha,” Albedo laughed sharply, grabbing a leather knapsack off of a nearby coffee table and slinging it over his shoulder. “Dain can kiss my tailcoat.”
“Sir Albedo, what’s in your bag?” Sucrose sighed again, pointing as she did her best to keep his attention focused. She was a bit concerned; Albedo was moving far too fast and was far too excited. In her experience, this never ended well.
He crinkled his nose, waving his hand dismissively. “Just some loose change and my sketchbook.”
Sucrose held her hand out.
He sighed, reluctantly taking the bag off and handing it to her.
She opened it to find his sketchbook, pencils, and a small pouch of coins as he had promised. However, tucked underneath the coin pouch was a small glass bottle filled with a white material that she immediately recognized. She picked up the bottle by its tight cork, holding it in front of his nose.
“Did you forget this was in here?”
“Sucrose,” Albedo began, his gorgeous eyes shining, almost pleading.
“Sir Albedo,” she countered. “Master Rhinedottir keeps her rules for a good reason, and you know it.”
“The only alchemy I can accomplish with this type of material are minute displays that amount to little more than cheap parlor tricks. Completely harmless, with little to no risk of complication.”
Sometimes, Sucrose felt like she was talking to a wall.
She took a deep breath, closing her eyes to steady herself. “Sir Albedo. Master Rhinedottir has ordered that Khemia should never be practiced outside of —”
“My dear Sucrose,” Albedo said softly, and Sucrose couldn’t help herself from startling slightly when she felt his hands gently clasped around her own.
She lifted her eyes to find her prince leaning down slightly, his azure eyes bright, a playful smile on his lips, and just enough blush in his cheeks to conceal the soft freckles splattered across the bridge of his nose.
“Everything will be fine. Don’t worry about me, alright? You deserve a break from work.”
His voice was gentle, kind, warm enough to bring color to her cheeks.
“Yes Sir,” she said, dropping her hands before her quickening pulse betrayed her.
He smiled broadened immediately. “Now then,” he began, already reaching for his knapsack and slinging it back over his shoulder. “I’d best be off. I wouldn’t want to be late to my own birthday party, after all.”
He slipped out the door before she could say anything else, only turning around and sending a giddy smile and wave over his shoulder when he was too far away for her to call to him.
Sucrose fell back onto the couch with a sigh.
It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Albedo, it was that she worried about him. He could get so wrapped up in whatever caught his attention at the moment that he could send himself plummeting into disaster without even realizing it. Sometimes quite literally, like the time he had to be rescued from the courtyard pond after trying to study some species of plant that grew near its depths.
She knew him well. After all, she had practically grown up with him, working as a palace attendant since the time she was fourteen. At age sixteen, Master Rhinedottir had personally appointed her as Albedo’s personal assistant, telling her that she seemed to be the “only soul amongst the palace servants who can match his exquisite curiosity.”
…Whatever that meant. Sucrose didn’t particularly like Master Rhinedottir, even though she had only spoken to her personally a handful of times. Albedo seemed to admire her, though, so she assumed that the strict, stoic woman must have some hidden charms that she only showed those closest to her.
Despite the daily headaches he caused her, Sucrose still couldn’t help but smile fondly as she closed the door behind Albedo. Somehow, being his attendant never felt like work. It felt more like spending time with a close friend, probably because he was so kind to her.
As much chaos as they brought about, there was something undeniably charming about Albedo’s fits of passion, something immediately lovable about his rampant curiosity. It was the way his eyes sparkled; the way his skin glowed as if he were lighting up from the inside out. It might be a bit of an odd thing to say given the nature of his being, but in those moments she thought he seemed to embody the very essence of the human spirit.
Albedo gave Sucrose more attention and treated her with more kindness than anyone had—more than her own parents, and certainly more than her now-estranged friends. Maybe it was just because she was lonely, but the chaotic, incredibly well-meaning young man filled a void in her heart in a way that no one before ever had.
Sucrose streched, standing up and making her way from his personal parlor to his bedroom, quickly tidying up his clothes from today before heading over to the wardrobe to make sure his outfit for the following day was carefully ironed and laid out.
After all, he was to become a prince before the sun set tomorrow. And she was expected to stay by his side during the entire ceremony. Sucrose smiled.
That thought made her feel as if she were the luckiest person in the whole world.
Albedo
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Albedo couldn’t help but smile as he opened the window, tossing a thick rope out of it and carefully lowering it until he could see it touch the ground several stories below.
He always kept the rope wound up and tucked behind the heavy curtains in the small library study in the North Tower, although there really wasn’t a good reason to hide it—hardly anyone came up there anyways.
He peered over the windowsill, feeling his chest tighten as it always did whenever he contemplated making the climb down below. Honestly, he would much prefer to have chosen a window on a lower story of the castle as his escape route, but the North Tower was the only area of the castle where there wasn’t a chance of Captain Dainsleif wandering around and poking his overly-sensitive nose into everything.
No one wanted to come near the North Tower, probably because it was where his Master lived and worked. Fortunately, Albedo wasn’t scared of her.
Well, at least not in the way that the others were.
He gingerly climbed up onto the windowsill and swung his legs over to the other side, carefully grabbing the rope before propelling himself off the edge.
The sun had just barely set, the stars merely a faint glimmer in the sky. The early autumn wind nipped at his cheeks and ruffled his hair as he lowered himself down the castle wall. The rope burned his hands slightly and he could practically feel the rough stone wall beneath the paper-thin soles of his sandals, but he felt himself smiling nonetheless.
As soon as he could clearly see the flowers on the bushes below him, he pushed off the wall and jumped, landing on his feet and quickly steading himself with a hand on the ground.
His joints cracked loudly as he straightened up and he winced slightly. He made a mental note to wait slightly longer before jumping next time: although it was true that his body granted him enhanced agility and endurance, it was far from indestructible.
Albedo rolled his shoulder, wincing again at the crackling sound before shaking out his arm and slipping through the shadows cast by the castle wall. As he rounded the corner and came closer towards the brightly lit main entrance, he began to see guards marching back and forth, moving in straight lines with blank expressions, almost like toy soldiers.
Like his Master, the individual guards honestly didn’t care whether Albedo stayed or left the palace.
It was only Dainsleif who cared. Luckily, the captain of the Royal Guard and his almost laughably pompous hooded cloak were nowhere to be seen.
Albedo smiled as he stepped into the light cast by the palace lanterns, dipping his head politely to the soldiers on duty as he strolled through the front gates.
The high railings on the bridge leading over the lake separating the palace from the city were strung with bright lights and covered in snow-white Cecilias. Admittedly, it took Albedo a minute to realize that these were decorations intended for his birthday and coronation.
He paused, taking in the array of overlapping flower petals as the lights cast soft shadows on his cheeks.
“Awestruck by your own birthday decorations?” one of the senior guards laughed, pausing to take in the scenery with him. “Well, I suppose you aren’t used to grand spectacles like this, being the Royal Alchemist’s son and all.”
“Right,” Albedo agreed absentmindedly.
“Welcome to palace life, Young Master Albedo. I’m sure your humbleness will make you a wise and benevolent king.”
“What?” Albedo asked quietly, reaching out to inspect how the decorations had been fastened onto the fence, looking for traces of alchemical creation.
The guard laughed heartily. “You’re a true prince of the people, it’s no wonder they adore you.”
“Adore me?” Albedo repeated, more of a gesture of politeness to fill the silence than a genuine inquiry. If he was being honest, the guard’s words were barely registering in his fuzzy brain.
“Yes, all these decorations were upon their request, after all. But why don’t you go see for yourself?”
Albedo’s eyes followed where the guard’s gloved hand was pointing, over the bridge’s exit to where the city lights shone unusually bright.
“Godspeed, Prince Albedo,” he smiled as he returned to his post. “Enjoy your birthday party.”
“Oh, thank you,” Albedo replied softly, even though the guard was already much too far away to hear. “I hope you have a pleasant evening as well.”
He automatically began walking again, still letting his eyes drift over the elegant decorations. Truthfully, a small part of him had hoped that his master had been responsible for creating—or at least commissioning—them. She still hadn’t said anything in regards to his birthday or his coronation. If anything, she had been even more unavailable than usual.
Logically, Albedo knew he shouldn’t expect anything from her—after all, it was through intensive work sessions like these that she had been able to create him in the first place.Albedo was eternally indebted to her for his birth, perhaps even more so than a human child to their mother. After all, according to the laws of this world he wasn’t supposed to exist at all.
A near-perfect homunculus, a synthetic human life created from chalk and the dust of this earth and the stars beyond. That in and of itself was incredible, barely believable. Albedo knew this.
But despite considering him the pinnacle of her alchemic ability, Rhinedottir wasn’t one to stop after creating a miracle. For someone like her, there was always something even better to be achieved.
Albedo knew all of this, and yet some illogical, nearly imperceptible part of him still wished his master had strung up some lights to celebrate his birthday. He sighed, clutching his knapsack to his chest.
Perhaps inconsistencies like these were what made him an accurate imitation of a human.
However, he certainly wasn’t upset that it was the people of Khaenri'ah that had strung up these decorations—far from it. In fact, the thought was so lovely to him that it almost made him feel as if he were glowing along with the lights. It felt barely believable—the idea that the people of the kingdom thought so kindly of him despite the fact that he had only come to their knowledge three years ago.
As Albedo exited the palace grounds and drew closer to the city entrance, the joyful murmur of the townspeople gradually filled his ears, illuminated by the festival lights and carried on the autumn wind. Albedo felt his pace quicken along with his pulse, suddenly impatient to join in the experience and witness all the festivities.
But as soon as he was close enough to pick out distinct lines of conversation, his footsteps slowed, his lips pressed together as he pulled the hood of his cloak over his head.
As a mere imitation of a human, he often felt awkward and self-conscious when participating in human society. He often wondered what exactly it was that made him feel unsure; whether it was a genuine incapability he possessed as a homunculus, or whether he was fully capable and the uncertainty was merely a psychological phenomenon resulting from his awareness of the truth of his own creation.
He lowered his head even further, looking down at his feet as he passed through the illuminated city gates.
He didn’t regret coming, and he certainly didn’t want to go back to the palace. But sometimes he wondered if he truly belonged here, if maybe—
“Why, it’s lovely to see you, my dear Young Master Albedo. I was starting to think you’d forgotten about us on the eve of your grand day.”
The familiar voice pushed Albedo right out the flow of his thoughts immediately after a flash of gold caught his eye.
Albedo startled for a moment, blinking before a small smile of recognition spread across his face.
The other young man smiled back, catching the gold coin one last time before slipping it in his pocket, the final spark reflecting in the eye that wasn’t covered by his floppy bangs.
“Good evening Ragnvindr,” Albedo replied as he took a step forward, too pleasantly surprised to even notice the cloak slipping off his head.
“Please, we’ve been over this so many times,” he sighed dramatically, clicking his tongue. “I’d much prefer it if you just called me Kaeya.”
“And I’ve repeatedly reminded you, Kaeya, that I’d much prefer it if you drop the formal title of ‘Young Master’ in a casual setting such as this.”
“But this entire festival is for you, our soon-to-be crowned Prince. Shouldn’t you treat your title a bit more seriously?”
“Do I look like someone who would cling tightly to indicators of status?”
“Both of you, so stubborn. Titles can be adopted in an instant and taken away by anyone. They don’t mean anything, so stop fretting about them.”
“Good evening, Sister Rosaria,” Albedo greeted her cordially, dipping his head politely.
“Oh please, would you drop that title too?” Rosaria sighed, her rose-colored hair and the outline of her black-clad back the only thing clearly visible as she leaned against the shadowy side of the same lamp post Kaeya was standing beside. “I took my vow out of a debt of gratitude, but it hardly means anything to me nor the Church. Besides, we in Khaenri'ah don’t look towards the gods with much reverence these days anyways. It’s almost more disrespectful than not to uphold traditions of the Church in a godless nation.”
Albedo blinked. “Disrespectful?”
“Why yes,” Rosaria said, turning her head just enough to make the tip of her nose visible. “You should know that more than anyone, Albedo.”
Albedo brought his hand up to the clasp on his cloak, thumb resting where the star-shaped birthmark on his neck was cast in shadow. Of course, she could just be making a reference to his close relation to Royal Alchemist Rhinedottir and her well-known distaste for the laws of Celestia.
But sometimes, he got the feeling that Rosaria suspected he was something other than human.
“But of course, a prince must know the affairs of his people,” Kaeya smiled brightly, in what was no doubt an attempt to dispel the animosity between his two friends. “And so, who should know better than you, our darling Albedo?”
Rosaria huffed in response, pushing off the lamp post and turning to face the two boys.
“Ah, I suppose that is true,” Albedo mused, bringing a finger up to his lips as he always did when he was contemplating something. “But then again if I am to be a prince, I feel as if I don’t understand our people well enough at all. Of all the mysteries of this world, I find that the human heart is perhaps the most difficult to comprehend. I feel like I haven’t even started.”
“Well, what better place to begin than right here?” Kaeya smiled, holding out his arm. “Come, let’s talk to some people and enjoy the sights of the festival together.”
He was wearing an elegant blue tunic, tied at the waist, the fabric light and flowing and the sleeves short enough to expose more than half of his forearm. Elegant golden jewelry filled the window of his chest left by the low-cut shirt, matching earrings dangling from both ears. However, what Albedo was focused on was the arm he was holding out.
He placed a tentative hand on his forearm, for some reason becoming hyper aware of how the exposed skin felt underneath his cool palm. He wasn’t quite sure how to position the remainder of his arm, first dropping his elbow, then lifting it, then finally settling on balancing his wrist on top of Kaeya’s arm and letting their elbows brush.
Their considerable height difference had made the positioning far more difficult, Albedo concluded. He wondered what it would be like with someone closer to his height—not that he minded that Kaeya was tall, that is.
Kaeya laughed softly at Albedo’s curious, perplexed expression as the smaller boy continued to examine how their arms were connected. “Ah, never been escorted by a handsome boy before?” he teased. “Glad I could be your first.”
“What?” Albedo echoed, looking up as he felt his face heat up slightly. He knew Kaeya was just ‘playing around’, as Rosaria had explained to him many times. He had watched his friend act much the same way towards others in the village, regardless of their gender, age or status.
He knew Kaeya’s mischievous words didn’t mean anything at all. They didn’t mean anything at all, and yet when he said things like this Albedo still had no idea to respond.
“Glad I could escort our dear Prince around his own festival,” Kaeya reiterated casually, as if it were nothing. “In fact, I feel very honored. Why me, out of all the young gentleman in Khaenri'ah? If things go on like this, I could easily delude myself into believing that I’m somehow special.”
Albedo opened his mouth, but before he could begin to think of a suitable response Kaeya had already turned his head away.
“Rosaria?” he offered, holding out his other arm.
Rosaria waved a hand in refusal, but she still fell into stride with them as they began walking.
The city of Khaenri'ah was far from quaint or humble, more similar to a series of spectacular architectural features than a town. The buildings and stores that lined Main Street were elegant works of marble and glass, making up for in elegance what they may have lacked in practicality. Albedo couldn’t help but stare at all the beautiful goods they had for sale in their warmly-lit windows, fine jewelry and clothing with patterns too intricate to have been stitched by hand.
The stone-paved road they trod on was kept nearly immaculately clean, littered with boughs of white flowers and glitter that shimmered in the bright lights strung everywhere for the festival. There were many lanterns that were floating in midair with no strings attached, no doubt suspended with the nearly magical power of Khaenri'ah’s advanced technology. Albedo watched in wonder as carriages rolled along the center of the street without being pulled by any animals at all—an astonishing recent development his master had shared with Albedo during one of their increasingly rare tea talks.
“Isn’t living in this modern age wonderful?” Kaeya asked with a sing-song tone, smiling as he watched Albedo’s eyes trail one of the self-powered vehicles. “You know, I’m not typically one to fall for nationalist nonsense, but sometimes I wonder if people might be onto something when they say Khaenri'ah is the most splendid nation in all of Teyvat.”
“We’re certainly the most technologically advanced, but that’ll only get any country so far,” Rosaria replied, her heels clicking bruskly on the stone pavement. “Our politics are fucked.”
“Rosaria!” Kaeya gasped dramatically, one hand splayed across his chest. “Not in the company of our darling Albedo!”
“Don’t infantilize him,” Rosaria sighed. “I’m sure he knows better than anyone. After all, we’ve been without a proper leader for nearly fifteen years. Surely that has to put undue stress on the first ruler to succeed the throne?”
“I certainly feel pressure as the chosen heir,” Albedo replied, his eyelashes fanning over his cheeks as he looked down. “I still don’t feel fully qualified to rule, and humbled more than anything to have been given the opportunity.”
“I doubt there’s ever been an instance when an alchemist’s son has been handed the crown. You’re the very first,” Kaeya replied, bumping their shoulders together in a gentle attempt to encourage him. “It’s scary stuff, but it’s also how history is made.”
“I still find it odd that the late Queen would entrust the entire kingdom to the Royal Alchemist rather than a relative. Didn’t she have a sister in another nation?”
“According to broad surveys of the populous, Kh’aenrians much prefer to keep our political affairs domestic,” Albedo did his best to respond, grateful that his golden curls had swung over to nearly cover the side of his face. “Especially since the noticeable uptick in distrust and aggression abroad.”
“Rosaria, please, it’s his birthday,” Kaeya cut in, his smile falling just barely enough to notice.
“Alright,” Rosaria sighed. “I suppose there are better things to do at a festival than discuss politics.”
“That’s the spirit,” Kaeya replied, his smile returning almost immediately, quickly turning and pointing to a side alley leading off the main road. “Now, why don’t we head over to that group of street vendors and see what they have to offer?”
Despite Kaeya’s admirable efforts to help him feel comfortable and included, Albedo kept his head lowered, suddenly feeling like he didn’t belong in their little trio. He knew Kaeya and Rosaria had grown up together since they were kids, and in that time a deep, lifelong trust had developed between them.
“We tell each other everything,” Kaeya had said, sharing a knowing glance with his best friend. “Absolutely no secrets between us. That’s the one and only rule of our friendship.”
Based on the stories he had heard about Rosaria, Albedo couldn’t blame her for being suspicious of newcomers. Her senses that were sharper than the blade she kept eternally strapped to her thigh—and her intuition that was sharper than either of them—they had all saved her life more than once.
Albedo also knew there was a great deal of mystery surrounding his arrival. After all, the outside only knew about his existence three years prior to his expected coronation date. This wasn’t really strange however, as it was Khaenri'ahn custom that the Royal children weren’t allowed contact with the public until their twentieth birthday—for safety reasons.
And ten years before that, a horrible epidemic had swept the land of Khaenri'ah, with unusual symptoms no doctor could explain. Although not absolutely lethal it was certainly dangerous, and ended up taking the life of at least a few hundred victims. The land was left in disarray, and the entire nation fell into grief upon the news that the disease had somehow spread through the highly sealed palace gates and taken the life of both the King and Queen, their only son reportedly losing his life a month later in a horrible accident caused by an extremely intense blizzard that winter.
The late Queen and King had always kept palace affairs to an intimate circle of advisors, and so it happened that after their passing the person most familiar with the royal family and the affairs of Khaenri'ah was his master, Royal Alchemist Gold Rhinedottir. Apparently, she and the Queen had been very close friends. Even when Albedo had last been able to meet with her a few weeks ago, she had passed very quickly by the topic of the Queen during their discussion, almost as if she were still too much in grief to bear talking about it.
As she had repeatedly told Albedo, after the Royal Family’s passing Rhinedottir wished nothing more than to continue her work and serve Khaenri'ah as its Royal Alchemist. And coincidentally, around the same she had finished him, her greatest masterpiece of alchemical creation. Naturally, the best solution was to announce him to the world as her son, and as per Kh’aenrian custom coronate him as its prince on his twenty-third birthday.
“If the public can accept that the Queen has chosen to entrust her Kingdom to the Royal Alchemist, then they should be able to accept that the Royal Alchemist has chosen to entrust it in turn to her beloved son, whom she values very much.”
His master had said this once over tea, golden light streaming through the windows of her private study and creating a small halo over her head.
“Thank you, mother,” Albedo had replied, bowing his head in gratitude.
“Master,” Rhinedottir had corrected softly, tapping her index finger on the rim of her teacup.
“I’m sorry Master, I was merely practicing.”
“Very good, Albedo,” she acknowledged, golden light reflecting off her glasses. “I appreciate the commitment.”
Albedo knew the familial titles of “mother” and “son” were only for show, merely appropriated to create a convincing facade of family bonds that would capture the people’s hearts.
And yet, he couldn’t help but notice the tiny flicker of warmth that had ignited in his stomach when his Master had called him “son,” how it spread up to his tongue and lips when he answered “mother.”
However, such terms were certainly not appropriate to use when describing the far more distant relationship between a homunculus and the alchemist who created him. Albedo knew this.
“What will happen when they find out?” he had asked curiously, kicking his feet gently. The grand plush chair his master had picked was far too large for him, the tips of his boots perpetually unable to touch the ground. “I’m afraid can’t continue to masquerade as a human for more than a couple decades. Since my birth I haven’t aged physically or mentally—beyond the accumulation of more knowledge, that is.”
Rhinedottir set down her teacup with a gentle clink, wiping her mouth delicately with a napkin. “So astute, Albedo. Always thinking of the future and possible outcomes—this is why you’re my finest creation.”
Albedo merely blinked, always unsure whether that sort of compliment was acceptable for him to respond to, whether it was directed towards him at all in the first place.
“Luckily, that shouldn’t even be an issue. I will have revolutionized Khaenri'ah by then, brought upon us a new age of innovation that renders our past virtually unrecognizable in comparison to the present. The improvements to our technology that I have planned will not only change the way that people live, but the way they think as well. At that point, a homunculus leading their nation should be far from a shock to the people—in fact, they will likely see you as preferable over a human ruler.”
“Ah, I see. The nation will really have changed that much?”
“You’ll never grow old, you can’t fall ill, you’re extremely durable—it’ll take quite a lot to kill you,” Rhinedottir continued, almost speaking to herself. “And with your current personality, you’re extremely likable. Gentle, kindhearted, curious, and just shy enough to be endearing. You really are a perfectly suited prince for this kingdom. Who knew my masterpiece would have so many uses? You truly are amazing, Albedo.”
Albedo dipped his head again before reaching for his tea cup and taking a long sip. If she was so confident in her plan, well, then he trusted his master completely. After all, she was the one who created him. She would know better than anyone what was best for both of them.
And so far, just like the calculated results of a proven formula, she had been correct. The people did love Albedo, or at least the concept of him. And in turn Albedo loved venturing among the people, observing their delights and disappointments, talking to them and hearing their fascinating stories. He considered himself a pupil of humanity, which happened to translate nicely into an image of a ruler deeply invested in the interests of his people.
Albedo was simultaneously the perfect student of alchemy, the perfect assistant to Rhinedottir, and the apparently perfect figurehead for the nation. He probably would have felt overwhelmed by the high expectations set for him, if not for his master’s unwavering confidence in his abilities.
It was universally acknowledged that Royal Alchemist Gold Rhinedottir had led Khaenri'ah into it’s golden age, a renascence of almost unbelievable technological improvement. As indisputably the most high-ranking alchemist in the nation, and one of the only public figures with extensive knowledge of the ancient Art of Khemia, most Kh’aenrians felt they owed Rhinedottir a great debt for her contribution to their nation.
A small number, however, seemed highly suspicious of the rapid increase in alchemical discoveries and modernization.
“Someone’s bound to get crushed beneath the wheels of these horseless carriages one day,” Rosaria muttered as Kaeya gently led Albedo across one of the tracks.
“Nonsense Rosaria, think of all the horses these machines are saving!” Kaeya exclaimed, leading them down an alleyway strung with low-hanging pink-and-gold lanterns. “The poor creatures deserve a break too, you know.”
Albedo noticed how Rosaria turned sharply to remain on Kaeya’s left side, always keeping the dark-haired man between them.
Albedo held no ill feelings towards Rosaria, and given her complicated past and current affiliations with the Church he supposed she had every right to be suspicious of him. He was, however, a bit perplexed why she insisted on always hanging around him and Kaeya, affording them nearly no opportunities to be alone together. She made it astoundingly clear that she did not enjoy Albedo’s company, and it was obvious to all three of them that her continued aggressions towards him put Kaeya in a very uncomfortable position. And yet, she refused to leave Kaeya’s side.
Albedo narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. Maybe she and Kaeya had a codependency that developed during the time they had needed to rely on each other for survival as teenagers. That explanation would honestly make the most sense.
Or perhaps, she had romantic feelings for Kaeya. This was a concept he had read about in one of the books Sucrose liked, where two childhood friends fell in love gradually as they reached adulthood. The thought of such a tale made Albedo’s stomach flutter, as if there were some sort of insect inside. He could never pinpoint the exact reason why he reacted this way, and that mystery usually only made the feeling intensify.
“You okay down there?” Kaeya asked, his tone much softer than usual. “You look a little lost.”
“I’m fine,” Albedo replied quickly, looking up into the dark blue of Kaeya’s eyes.
The young man’s expression was, as usual, unreadable.
“That’s good,” Kaeya laughed quietly, gently clasping the top of Albedo’s hand resting on his forearm with his opposite palm. “You let me know if you need to rest, okay?”
“Okay,” Albedo repeated, a gentle smile spreading across his face.
The truth was, Albedo didn’t care what Rosaria thought of him as long as Kaeya still liked him. He much preferred Kaeya’s company, anyway. He found the presence of the elegant man much more intriguing; his aura ever-changing, flowing, so much so that Albedo could never get a proper sense of it.
Albedo found that everyone he met had an aura, something that they reminded him of. His master’s was of molten gold; seeping, blinding. Sucrose’s was of spring wind; timid, refreshing. And Rosaria’s was like icicles; sharp, poised.
If Albedo was pressed to describe it, he would say that Kaeya’s aura was a stained glass window. Obscuring, intricate, practically opaque—but beautiful all the same. Worth studying the craftsmanship, at the very least.
“Why, if it isn’t good Sir Albedo,” one of the nearby vendors called out, him and his business partner bowing deeply. “How kind of you to grace us with your presence on such a busy and important occasion.”
Albedo tugged gently on Kaeya’s arm and he turned, escorting him over to the stall.
“No shame I see,” Albedo observed, letting his eyes drift over the two men. “Calling out to me with flattery intended to attract my attention with the ulterior motive of increasing business to your stall?”
“I told you not to do it,” the taller of the two hissed, nudging his companion with his elbow.
“And yet, your business strategy worked,” Albedo smiled, looking around at the small crowd of people that was already beginning to form behind him. “Admirable.”
“Wait…so you’re not upset?” the shorter man clarified, an eager smile starting to creep across his face.
“Well, I was merely making an observation about the effectiveness of your strategy,” Albedo replied, nodding.
One of the men covered his mouth as he coughed, while the other tried halfheartedly to mask the look of confusion on his face.
“Young Master Albedo,” a little boy called out. “Thank you for visiting us!”
“Why of course,” Albedo smiled, gently letting go of Kaeya’s arm as he turned around to face the group congregating behind him. “It’s my pleasure.”
Kaeya fell behind to let Albedo shine amongst the crowd. He stayed close to the stall as Rosaria chose to slip into the shadows, as always loathing attention of any kind.
“Will you still come to visit us once you’re coronated?” a young man called out.
“Absolutely,” Albedo replied, a gentle laugh gracing his words. “You really think I would forget about the people of Khaenri'ah so easily? As far as I’m aware, it’s true that it’s the people who make a nation, is it not?”
A murmur of approval swept through the group.
“You have such a way with words,” someone observed.
Albedo took a step forward, chuckling. “Did you assume that the Royal Alchemist’s son wouldn’t undergo lessons in language and proper etiquette? I may come from a more humble background than the late aristocracy, but my education was far from meager.”
The people nodded amongst themselves, the glow from the lanterns illuminating the spaces between them. Even though it had already been three years since he was allowed to interact with others, Albedo still marveled at the effect his words had on them, how they so easily accepted him as human.
“And who’s this dashing young man with you?” an elderly lady asked in the silence, making no effort to hide her gaze as she looked Kaeya up and down.
“Oh,” Albedo said, reaching out and brushing Kaeya’s hand as he gestured him to come stand beside him. “This is Kaeya Ragnvindr, a genius tailor and nice young gentleman I’ve befriended.”
Kaeya waved, eyes closing as he smiled brightly. “Pleasure to meet you all on this illustrious evening.”
“Ragvindr, like the winery?”
“Please, just call me Kaeya,” he chuckled, swiping the remark away with his hand. “No need to be so formal with me, especially not in the company of our soon-to-be prince.”
Albedo shot him a questioning glance, but he just smiled and bowed his head as he bestowed the attention back onto him.
“Sir Albedo,” a mother said, clutching a basket full of food. “My little one has something she wants to ask you.”
Albedo’s eyes trailed downwards to where a little girl with twin braided pigtails was watching him intently, clutching onto her mother’s skirt with two tiny hands.
“Hey there,” Albedo greeted her softly as he knelt down and tapped the ground in front of him. “You can come out, it’s alright.”
The girl took one step closer to her mother before placing a tentative foot outwards. The steadily growing crowd fell silent.
“It’s okay,” Albedo smiled encouragingly at her, tapping the ground again. “I won’t hurt you, I promise.”
The little one paused for a good few seconds before hesitantly toddling over and sitting down rather in front of the alchemist.
“Perfect,” Albedo beamed, looping his knapsack off his shoulder and placing it beside him. “Now, what was it that you wanted to ask me?”
“You can— can you…” she began.
Albedo nodded, listening intently.
“Can you do alchemy?”
Sucrose’s panicked voice rang in his ears, reminding him of his master’s rules.
“No practicing Khemia beyond the palace walls—you are nowhere near experienced enough to be fooling around with the fabric of the universe without my supervision.”
However, his master wasn’t here. In fact, Albedo hadn’t seen her for weeks.
The girl blinked, clutching one of her braids nervously.
Kaeya’s curious, expectant gaze made his back tingle.
Albedo smiled warmly.
“Why, of course I can do some alchemy,” he said, leaning over to reach into his knapsack.
“Alright,” Kaeya smiled, crossing his arms. “Let’s see what you got.”
Albedo took out a small bottle of fine dust and his sketchpad. The crowd murmured quietly in anticipation.
“I don’t have a flat surface to draw on,” he muttered, “and it’s rather dark here. But this should do.”
He looked up suddenly, eyes sparkling as his pencil was posed just above the paper. “What’s your favorite flower, little one?”
“Inteyvat flower,” she answered shyly, shifting her weight back and forth.
“The national flower! My, how patriotic,” Kaeya commentated smoothly, swaying as he flashed the crowd a smile. “How fitting for the occasion.”
“Hm, I think I can sketch that from memory well enough,” Albedo murmured, beginning to glide the pencil tip across the paper.
The crowd watched him passively, chattering excitedly amongst themselves. Even the two men selling goods leaned over their stall to watch from behind.
The noise and lights of the festival gradually faded away with each scratch of his pencil. Albedo focused solely on the paper, finding the action of creation to be as soothing as always. It didn’t take long for him to finish a serviceable sketch of the five-petaled flower. He narrowed his eyes, nodding in approval before reaching for the bottle.
“Wait,” Kaeya stopped him with a light tap to his shoulder. “Don’t you want to show them what you drew?”
“Oh,” Albedo said hazily, half of his mind still engrossed in his work. “Okay.”
He held up the sketch with both hands, sitting back on his heels. The crowd murmured with approval, a couple of them commenting on how elegant and expressive the minimalistic sketch was.
“You should see his paintings,” Kaeya said with yet another smile, putting his hands in his pockets. “He’s quite the refined artist. His finished pieces are sublime.”
The crowd pounced on that bit of information and mulled over it excitedly, leaving the young girl and Kaeya the sole witnesses to the final step of Albedo’s process.
Albedo popped off the cork of the bottle and sprinkled a small finger flick of dust across the paper. He closed his eyes, covering his mouth with his left hand and murmuring almost too softly to be heard over the bustle of the streets:
Arise, lifeless dust of the universe and that within, thou art reborn!
A soft golden glow began on the page, snapping suddenly in a burst of light that drew the eyes of the now well over fifty people watching.
As the shock faded and everyone’s eyes re-adjusted to the dim glow of the streets, there was a collective soft gasp as a white flower began to slowly form in Albedo’s outstretched palm, materializing from the base of its stem to the delicate top of each petal.
“Here you go,” he said softly, the soft silver light from his creation shining in his azure eyes. “Take good care of it. It needs sunlight and water, just like any other flower.”
The girl stared wide-eyed at the flower, seemingly too stunned to move.
“It’s yours now, you can take it,” Albedo reminded her warmly, extending it to her.
“Take it,” her mother laughed. “Your prince is asking you.”
At this the little one quickly reached out and took the flower, holding it closely to her chest as if it might disappear at any minute.
Albedo chuckled, gently patting her head before tucking his belongings back in his knapsack as he stood up.
“Say thank you,” her mother encouraged in a loud whisper.
“Thank you very much Sir Albedo, for this wonderful gift,” the girl said abruptly, bowing so low her twin braids brushed the ground.
The small audience erupted in laughter and a generous round of applause. Amidst all the clamor, Albedo found himself turning to Kaeya.
“Well done, well done,” he praised, politely tapping his right fingers on his left palm. “That was quite impressive I must say—speaking as a fan of your previous, more traditional works, of course.”
Albedo felt something like a heat wave rise through his chest and shoulders, bursting through the top of his head and bringing a slight rosy tinge to his cheeks.
It felt nice to be praised for his work, even if it was closer to a slight-of-hand magic trick than the more legitimate and infinitely more complex alchemy he practiced with his Master.
“If I shower you with flattery for every minuscule achievement, you’ll loose motivation to improve. You’re not a child who needs codling. I expect more from you, Albedo.”
Albedo knew that his master would be furious if she knew he was giving out Khemia creations to the children of Khaenri'ah as carelessly as if they were organic flowers plucked from a garden. She would be more enraged still if she could see the type of attention and applause that it garnered him.
“Khemia is the closest humans will ever come to ‘playing God’; it is a serious art and is never to be taken lightly.”
Albedo looked at the rosy cheeks of the small child holding the alchemical flower, listened to the awed chattering of the teenagers and the warm laughter of the adults. It would certainly be a difficult task to convince himself that what he had just done was truly, fully bad.
Could it be true that the enkindlement of joy and wonder is also a kind of transformation, a part of the flow of life? A certain type of creation?
Albedo smiled. He felt like he had just made another breakthrough in understanding.
Before he knew what was happening, Kaeya had taken his hand and was leading him away from the crowd, tossing a few charming farewells over his shoulder.
Albedo stared ahead, a dazed smile still on his lips.
“A little awe-struck yourself, I see. Still not used to all the attention, huh?” Kaeya teased, squeezing his hand playfully.
“Was that Khemia? I saw the burst of light.”
Kaeya jumped backwards, nearly crashing into Albedo. Acting on pure reflex, he instantaneously reached out to grab Kaeya’s waist, steading him so he didn’t topple over.
“Oh Fu— Archons, Rosaria. You nearly scared the life out of me,” Kaeya exclaimed in exasperation, exhaling heavily.
“Huh. One simple magic trick and your senses dull. Keep it sharp, Kaeya,” she sighed, snapping her fingers.
Kaeya and Rosaria’s eyes both fell to where Albedo’s hand rested on his waist. There was a heartbeat of silence before Albedo neatly withdrew it, shaking out his wrist as if it had a cramp.
“Thanks, Albedo,” Kaeya said quietly, holding out his arm again.
Albedo took it with much less fuss this time, more concerned by the fact that the perpetually-unbothered Kaeya seemed to be avoiding eye contact with him. The trio set off down the street this time, Rosaria clinging closer to Kaeya’s side this time.
Albedo’s face lit up when he saw a table spread with hand-knit warming accessories—a rarity now that the invention of sewing machines was nearly two decades in the past. As an artist himself any art of handmade craftsmanship had always piqued his interest, and he gently tugged on Kaeya’s arm to lead the group over.
“Did you make these yourself?” he asked the elderly woman running the stall, releasing Kaeya’s arm to inspect a white-and-blue patterned scarf more closely.
“Made by hand, all of them,” she replied, her eyes creasing into a delighted smile. “My granddaughter picked out the colors for those.”
Albedo had already put down the scarf and was now holding a pair of children’s mittens with flowers embroidered on the cuff.
“His silence always speaks quite eloquently; he loves your work,” Kaeya smiled, gesturing to the jumble of needles and yarn she held in her lap. “May I inquire what project you’re working on now?”
Kaeya and the craftswoman struck up a polite conversation as Albedo continued to look over all the winter clothes, turning over a few in his hand.
“Amazing,” he concluded after a minute or so, straightening up. “They possess a lovely, cozy atmosphere, just like their maker.”
“Oh, well, I’m quite too old for such flattery,” she smiled, shaking her head. “But thank you, Young Master.”
“I apologize if this is a bit of a strange inquiry,” Albedo began, twisting to reach into his knapsack. “But do you mind if I sketch you?”
“Why of course,” she laughed. “But whatever for?”
Albedo had begun on his drawing at her first indication of permission, already too engrossed in his work to respond by the time she asked the question.
“Just roll with it,” Kaeya smiled, watching over Albedo’s shoulder. “Our young leader works in mysterious ways.”
Albedo squinted at the paper, setting it down on the table and twisting it slightly to get the right angles. After a couple minutes he tore the paper and held it out to her silently, the faintest smile on his lips.
She took it and held it close to her face, inspecting it though reading glasses perched on the tip of her nose.
“It’s beautiful,” she said after a moment, looking over the lenses at him. “Your art captures emotion and atmosphere quite well with just a few lines. You must practice a lot to be so skilled.”
“That’s what I always say!” Kaeya smiled down at him.
“I’m glad you like it,” Albedo said, dipping his head. “May I please also have this scarf? I have the money for it.”
“Oh, please,” the elder smiled, holding up the sketch. “This is quite the fair exchange. Go on, take it. It’s yours.”
“Madam, please, let me pay you,” Albedo insisted, reaching into his knapsack again. “It’s really no trouble at all.”
“No,” she said firmly, extending a hand. “It’s payment enough for the future prince of Khaenri'ah to take such a keen interest in my wares. That’s a priceless gift, and more than enough to exchange for a simple scarf.”
Albedo nodded silently. He wasn’t entirely sure how humans measured value—it seemed quite inconsistent to him. But if the kind woman was happy with the barter, then he was happy.
He held his hand out and she pressed the scarf into his palm, smiling. “Take good care of our people, Sir Albedo. Do so, and in turn this scarf will keep you warm in the cold of winter.”
“Thank you very kindly, Madam,” he said seriously, unfolding the scarf and unclipping his cloak so he could wrap it around his neck.
“I hope you and your family stay warm this winter,” Kaeya smiled, bowing politely to her. “Although I’m sure they will, with such beautiful winter clothes.”
“You too young man. I’ve heard it’s supposed to be an especially frigid one this year.”
“Didn’t they say that last year?” Albedo asked, titling his head as he tucked the final length of the scarf into a neat fold.
“The cold winter?” a man in a neat suit and monocle asked, walking up to the stall and apparently intrigued by their conversation. “The low temperatures have been reaching new extremes each year, yes. But this is supposed to be an especially brutal one. Lots of snowfall.”
“Huh. I wonder how they can predict that so far ahead of time?” Kaeya asked, putting a finger to his temple.
“Patterns of the current weather, signs in the earth. And Khaenri'ah’s advanced meteorologic assessments of course,” the elder added, swaying lightly in her chair. “I do reckon there’s nothing this country hasn’t attempted to fix with technology.”
“This is the first I’m hearing of this,” Albedo said, turning to the newcomer. “Are there any working hypotheses as to why the winters have been getting more harsh?”
The man turned to face him. “Some say it’s changes to our atmosphere caused by a rapidly increasing output of pollution and waste, Others think it might just be a temporary meteorological trend that will naturally reverse itself. However, the most peculiar part of the phenomenon is that, according to data from abroad, it appears to only be developing in Khaenri'ah.”
“Could it be merely a matter of a difference in altitude between us and our neighbors?” Kaeya chimed in.
“I thought that initially too,” the man smiled, shaking his head. “But according to reports, during the winter months there’s a very abrupt drop in temperature right as one crosses the border of Khaenri'ah.”
Albedo’s vision went blurry as he began to sort through the new information. The more he fought to make sense of it, a singular question began to emerge that blocked any further understanding. Why hadn’t his master mentioned this before? As it concerned both the components of the environment with which they worked as alchemists and the nation over which they had been given dominion, this should have been an important topic of discussion for both of them. Furthermore, Albedo was certain that his master had played a role in developing some of the meteorological technology they were describing, at least in her earlier years before she solely devoted herself to the practice of Khemia.
So why hadn’t she mentioned it?
Albedo played with the fringes at the edge of his new scarf absentmindedly as he tuned back into the conversation.
“Of course,” the man was saying, “a few sects have had more…radical approaches to explaining this trend.”
“Depends on how you define radical,” Rosaria said, her first contribution since they arrived at the stall. All four heads turned to look at her. Albedo felt a bit bad; he had almost forgotten she was here.
“Ah, a Sister from the Church,” the man said, quickly surveying her. “Care to explain your side of things?”
“I’m barely a Sister,” Rosaria replied. “It’s hard not to take a church in a godless nation as anything but a joke.”
“So we agree,” the man concluded, adjusting his monocle.
“Mmm, not quite. I still think they raise some valuable counterarguments to the dominant political ideologies. Khaenri’ah’s politics have been becoming quite dogmatic recently. We as a nation have a bit of mob mentality, and I don’t like it.”
“Surely you can’t think that Celestia’s rules are beneficial to humanity?”
“Well, I didn’t say that,” Rosaria sighed. “All I said is I think some opposition may be healthy in this political environment.”
The man took a step forward, opening his mouth.
“Hey now,” Kaeya cut in. “Perhaps it’s bad luck to hold political debates on the eve of the prince’s coronation?”
Rosaria chose to speak over him. “But what the Church believes—not that I necessarily believe it myself—is that the deepening cold may be a sign of the increasing displeasure of Celestia with our nation. I take it you’ve heard of the descent of the Skyfrost Nail in the land once known as Sal Vindagnyr? That nation now stands as a barren, lifeless, ice-capped mountain, too dangerous for even the most determined of adventurers to surmount.”
“And what does Khaenri’ah have to do with the destruction of a bygone civilization ?”
Rosaria sighed again. “You really don’t get it, do you.”
“What, is this supposed to be some cautionary tale, intended to instill fear into the naive listener?” He tapped his foot. “It’s not working.”
Rosaria closed her eyes. “All I’ll say is that we know Celestia doesn’t look kindly upon its rivals, be they divine or man-made.”
The man was turning red in the face. The elderly lady continued her knitting, her expression hardly changing. Albedo stayed silent. Kaeya looked uncomfortable.
“Come on, let’s get out of here,” he murmured to Albedo, taking him by the hand and leading him away from the scene.
Albedo let Kaeya guide him, his footsteps staggering just slightly behind. Kaeya was definitely more aggravated than usual; his easygoing persona was cracking bit-by-bit as the night went on. Albedo knew how to recognize the subtle fractures now, of course, but back when they first met almost two years ago he wouldn’t have been able to tell that a thing was amiss. Albedo wondered whether his current awareness was due to the far more sophisticated understanding of human emotion he had developed during that time, or whether it was his familiarity with Kaeya himself. Perhaps it was both. But either way, had to admit that his understanding was still limited though, on both fronts. Even now, as he studied Kaeya’s body language intently, he was unable to tell whether he was upset on his behalf or just upset in general.
Finally Kaeya slowed down, squaring his shoulders. “Say,” he said, turning his head slightly but his eyes were still obscured by his bangs. “We both kinda came here to escape reality, right?”
“What?”
“You know, tune the real world out, get away from it all. You have a very important day tomorrow. Surely you must be nervous?”
“I suppose,” Albedo replied, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. He had no idea where Kaeya was trying to lead the conversation.
Kaeya laughed a bit uncomfortably, placing a hand on his hip as if he didn’t know where else to put it. “Let’s just forget about them and have a good time at the festival without thinking about all of that big-picture stuff. After all, this could very well be the last normal evening for both of us.”
“Both of us?” Albedo echoed, but Kaeya had already taken his hand again, interlacing their fingers and gently pulling him down the street.
Between the many colorful wares to look at, the pleasant humming of pleased customers, and the gently overlapping glow of hundreds of lanterns, Albedo quickly forgot about everything that had happened before. He happily nodded along to all of Kaeya’s observant quips and lighthearted joking, comforted by the way his chin brushed against the soft material of his new hand-knit scarf.
On their journey throughout the city streets Albedo often paused to sketch the passersby he saw: street performers and happy couples, grandparents buying presents for their grandchildren, a young boy feeding birds with a bag of breadcrumbs.
“How do you choose your subjects?” Kaeya asked after the first few times Albedo had paused seemingly at random, watching intently as his pencil glid across the paper of his sketchbook.
“I try to capture human emotions—especially joy. This is a festival, after all. Most people tend to look particularly beautiful when they are doing something that makes them happy, don’t you think?”
“Hm. I think I might know what you mean,” Kaeya replied quietly, his eyes flicking to the small bottle of alchemic materials that lay beside the young artist. However, Albedo was too engrossed in his sketch to notice.
Once Albedo was happy with a sketch, he would promptly tear it out of the book and timidly approach the subject with the page. However, after Kaeya picked up on his shyness he began silently reaching for the page, and after awhile Albedo just began handing it to him.
Albedo would smile, watching from afar as his friend handed the stranger the paper, always gesturing back to him and smiling happily. The recipient would usually wave or bow to him, and he would wave back in return, feeling as if his skin was glowing from within.
Kaeya would always walk back to him, still smiling, and thus they would continue their walk up and down the streets, across brightly-lit parks and even through a few stores with that had generously left their doors open.
Albedo also began giving Khemia flowers to more children along the road, finding a joy of his own in their delighted faces. He already had the sketch of the Inteyvat flower, so it only took a minute or so to create each one. He loved the watching the expressions of each child as he handed them the flower, some silent in awe, some clapping with glee. One was even slightly fearful and so he handed the flower to the child’s mother instead, bowing deeply in apology.
Meanwhile Kaeya was content to watch in silence, the light from the Khemia shining in his eyes.
The last of the children ran to hug Albedo where he knelt, wrapping his small arms around him and still clutching the flower in his pudgy fist. The gesture took Albedo by complete surprise, although not in a bad way.
“How sweet,” Kaeya chuckled, gathering Albedo’s materials and putting them back in his bag for him, offering it to him as he stood up.
“Ah, thank you,” Albedo smiled, looping the bag over his shoulder as they set off again.
By this point, they had reached the far end of the festival and there wasn’t much more to see. However, along one of the farthest alleyways they came upon a small stand with beautiful hats, headpieces and crowns with false jewelry that caught Albedo’s eye. Kaeya recognized the owner from his work as a tailor, and it wasn’t long before they struck up a lively conversation.
“I’m surprised you’re on such good terms with Young Master Albedo,” the man smiled, bowing politely to him. “Which—by the way, you seem to be in great health, Sir. Blessings be upon your coronation tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” Albedo replied formally, bowing in return.
“I’m surprised too,” Kaeya said, turning to the boy beside him. “But Sir Albedo and I go a couple years back. We met by chance at a festival in the summer, and much to my surprise a friendship blossomed. Despite being so close to royalty now, he’s surprisingly down to earth and an incredibly kind soul.”
Kaeya’s friend nodded approvingly, and the conversation quickly drifted on to small talk about work and reminiscence of their past encounters. Albedo’s attention quickly lapsed, and as it did so his eyes began to drift over the headpieces. One crown in particular caught his eye, and he reached up on tiptoe to take it off its hook. It was a simple band beautiful white Cecelias and delicate blue Forget-Me-Nots, with glass beads in the shape of stars woven between them. The crown was delicate, small, and simple, but it had a decidedly unique elegance to it that reminded Albedo of something familiar.
“It seems your friend has found something he likes,” the craftsman laughed, gesturing to him.
Albedo turned to Kaeya, holding the crown out in both hands. “For you.”
“For me?” Kaeya asked, a surprised laugh accenting his words. “Nonsense.”
“Take it,” Albedo said, pushing it towards him. Kaeya’s face faltered slightly.
“Come now Albedo, don’t be ridiculous. Don’t you think one of these hats would suit me better instead?”
“Put it on.” His words were simple but earnest. Kaeya’s friend began chuckling.
“Kaeya, your prince commands you.”
“Alright,” he sighed, finally reaching for the crown. “I suppose a little play-acting can’t hurt.”
“There’s a mirror over there,” his friend smiled, gesturing to their left.
The two boys walked to the mirror, and Kaeya hesitantly placed the crown on his head, adjusting it slightly so it didn’t flatten his bangs.
“Huh,” he whispered, his lips trembling into a small smile. “Not bad.”
“See, I knew it would suit you,” Albedo smiled up at him, fists balled excitedly in the loose end of his scarf.
Kaeya nodded slightly, a unfamiliar look dawning on his face. But within seconds he pursed his lips, the teasing glint in his eyes returning.
“I look quite handsome in a crown don’t you think?” he winked at Albedo through the mirror, tucking a loose strand of his bangs behind his ear. “Some might even say I have the face of a prince.”
Albedo made a soft noise of agreement, continuing to look at Kaeya through the mirror and echoing the faint glimmer of laughter in his eyes.
“I’m guessing we have a favorite?” Kaeya’s friend smiled, to which Albedo nodded happily and Kaeya shot him a warning glare.
“Since you’re my friend and you’re…well, the soon-to-be Prince, I suppose I have no choice but to gift it to you for free,” he smiled, taking out a pad of paper.
“Oh no, I couldn’t possibly. I already received this for free,” Albedo said, tugging lightly on the scarf. “Two gifts is already far too much to take away from artists trying to make an honest livelihood.”
“A generous discount, then?”
“We’re not taking the crown,” Kaeya said, delicately taking it off his head and walking it back to the hook.
Albedo scowled. “What?”
“We’re not taking the crown,” Kaeya repeated, his face hidden as he put it back in its place.
“Why.”
“I don’t need it. A sunhat would be more practical.”
“You said you looked handsome in it,” Albedo retorted, crossing his arms. “I saw you smiling!”
“It was just a joke, Albedo. Nothing serious.” Kaeya said quietly.
Albedo held out a handful of coins to the storekeeper. “Every joke hides a glimmer of truth.”
The man laughed, clearly amused by both of their stubbornness. “Kaeya, just take the damn thing. I spent a long time on it. Plus, it’ll make your company happy.”
Albedo grinned and dumped the coins into the artisans’s palm before walking over and plucking the crown back off its hook.
“Fine,” Kaeya sighed. “Only because it’s in support of a good friend, and will make you happy for some gods-forsaken reason.”
But despite his pointed reluctance, he still bent down so that Albedo could more easily set the band on his head, and Albedo could have sworn he caught the glimmer of a hidden smile as Kaeya straightened up again.
“Perfect,” Albedo smiled up at him, clapping his hands in delight.
“Take good care of it now,” Kaeya’s friend winked, shooing them away playfully.
Kaeya made a face, but Albedo didn’t miss how he slid his friend some extra coins as they passed by.
The two companions set off again, walking back the way they came down the main street of the festival.
Albedo smiled, tucking his chin under the soft material of the scarf. “Now we both have gifts,” he said warmly, swinging his arms as he walked.
“You’re so weird,” Kaeya sighed, with a smile that was only partially from his exasperation. “You have such odd whims, I swear.”
“My mother thinks so too,” Albedo added happily, to which Kaeya just shook his head. But when the crowd began to grow thick, Albedo noticed that he reached for his hand again instead of offering his arm like he did before.
“Hey,” Kaeya said after a while, pointing with his free hand at a nearby display of golden birds that flew in a perfect circle above a fountain. “Is that an alchemy thing?”
“Hm,” Albedo said, narrowing his eyes. “I think those might be mechanical, honestly. Would you like to go and take a closer look?”
“Sure,” Kaeya smiled, already beginning to lead the way.
They fell back into conversation quite easily after that, and Albedo couldn’t help notice that Kaeya’s eyes shone just a little bit brighter than before. It could have been because the main street was more brightly lit than the alleyways where they had been previously, but Albedo liked to think that it was because of the crown. And the with way that Kaeya kept reaching up to adjust it, probably subconsciously, Albedo decided that he was probably correct.
Albedo felt proud. Perhaps his status as a non-human granted him a greater advantage in studying the intricacies of human behavior. This was something he had pondered recently, and admittedly the thought provided him with a bit of comfort. And Kaeya, being the most mysterious human he had found, was of course his most valuable subject.
They stopped to watch a few more attractions that caught their eye, strolling down the street together inbetween. Now that it was a bit later into the evening, there were less people around and as a result, Albedo was recognized considerably more. A few people would stop and bow to him, or shout their congratulations and well wishes from afar. For the most part though, they respected his privacy, which came as an immense relief to the prince-to-be. It was quite possible that the tall, handsome, and elegant but decidedly mysterious man holding his hand may have helped this considerably, which made Albedo very grateful for Kaeya’s company.
The lights were beautiful, the warm glow reflecting on everybody’s faces and lending brilliance to even the most mundane of urban structures. They stopped again to watch a light show that an electrician was putting on in a small park, blue, white, and golden bulbs turning on and off to the beat of a song that a string quartet was playing.
Albedo suddenly had a thought.
“Your friend was selling his wares at this festival,” he began, glancing up at Kaeya out of the corner of his eye. “Why didn’t you apply for a stall?”
“Hm. A tailor doesn’t have much to show for himself I suppose, I spend the majority of my time patching up other people’s clothes and that’s rather boring to showcase at a festival.”
“Yeah, but you make your own creations too, right? Clothes, as well as the little wind up music boxes and mechanical toys,” Albedo pressed. “Wouldn’t those be perfect to sell here? They’re quite charming, and I’d reckon that they’d be a huge hit with the kids.”
“I don’t know,” Kaeya said, letting his eyes drift upwards to the lights above them. “I suppose…I had other things I’d rather do.”
Albedo let the words settle between them as they silently watched the light display, lights glittering before their eyes. The moment seemed too natural to ruin with any attempt to construct a proper response, so he just breathed a soft sigh of contentment into the night air and took two tiny steps closer to Kaeya.
Kaeya closed his eyes as a small chuckle escaped his lips, and he brushed his thumb against Albedo’s only half by accident.
They stayed like that for the rest of the song, leaving quietly together amidst the applause. And just like that they continued their journey down the street, content as ever. Everything was lively and yet somehow peaceful at the same time, a wonderful paradox that made the night feel close to magical.
As a student of alchemy, Albedo dabbled in many things that might be considered magic by the casual observer—the Khemia Inteyvat flowers being a perfect example of this. But regardless of outward appearances all alchemy had a very practical explanation behind it, as well strict rules and patterns that all partitioners must follow in order achieve their desired results.
But this encounter, this whole evening, had been a strange mix of wonderful emotions that seemed to be full of inconsistencies and contradictions—like the child who was fearful of the Khemia flower and yet fascinated by it, or Kaeya’s strange behavior with the crown of flowers and stars. Albedo couldn’t quite explain why the bright lights and clamor felt so peaceful, to him or why he felt a certain, very specific way when Kaeya had reached for his hand instead of his arm. And without any clear explanation, magical seemed the most appropriate term to describe the whole ordeal. At least for now.
“Of course you two are here, hiding in the most obvious place.”
The voice brought a familiar cascade of icicles to mind, and as Albedo came out of his head and focused on the scene in front of him there was Rosaria, as expected, striding towards them at a furious pace.
“I have been looking all over for you two, up and down, left and right, in every little dark corner and alley. What in Teyvat were you doing?”
“Enjoying the festival,” Kaeya replied smoothly, but there was an edge to his words that wasn’t there before.
Rosaria’s eyes only flicked down to where their hands were connected for less than a second, but it was enough to make Kaeya let go. “I thought we agreed not to let ourselves get split up,” she said, her lips pressed into a thin line.
Albedo’s mouth drew into an almost imperceptible scowl.
“We never agreed on that,” Kaeya said, taking a step forward. “I don’t ever remember us having that conversation today.”
“Well I’m sorry I just assumed,” Rosaria shot back, shifting her weight into her hip. “That’s always been our rule. For safety, for survival reasons.”
“Well, I don’t think anyone was in danger tonight, were they?” Kaeya replied, his tone light but chilling, like freshly fallen snow.
Albedo looked down at the ground, wishing he could taking Kaeya’s hand again even though he knew that action would have the worst possible outcome of the options available to him.
Rosaria mouthed something incomprehensible to Kaeya, but he just clicked his tongue in response. They stayed there for some time, Rosaria’s fists balled and Kaeya’s jaw clenched. Both of them were bristling slightly, speaking some sort of silent language only they could understand.
Coincidentally, the light from a nearby lantern reflected off the dagger strapped to Rosaria’s thigh.
“Not on my birthday,” Albedo blurted out, looking rapidly back and forth between them.
Kaeya took a step back, eyes wide. Then he began laughing, putting a hand on his chest and throwing his head back as if Albedo had just said the funniest thing he had heard all evening.
Rosaria just rolled her eyes and looked away, but the corners of her mouth twitched into into the closest thing she had shown to a smile all night.
“What’s funny?” Albedo asked, his eyebrows furrowing again. He didn’t know how to de-escalate the situation, and there seemed to be a lot of complicated things going on beneath the surface that were confusing him. He was desperate, and just a little bit upset, so he had tried the only strategy he had seen work before.
He knew he didn’t have as much tact as Kaeya, and it probably sounded a bit weird when he said it himself, but still. The last thing he had expected was for Kaeya to burst out laughing.
“Nothing’s funny,” Kaeya answered as he lowered his gaze to look at Albedo again, still smiling and taking a deep breath to steady himself. “That was brilliant.”
“Um,” Albedo looked back at him quizzically, still not quite sure what to make of everything.
“Sorry if I got a little harsh,” Rosaria said quietly, taking a step back and unclenching her fists. “I was just worried about you two, that’s all.”
“Thank you, Rosaria,” Kaeya said, straightening up and brushing something off his shoulder.
Albedo just nodded. Honestly, he thought that Rosaria was horrible at giving apologies, but that didn’t particularly bother him right now. Mostly, he was relieved that his attempt had worked in its own strange way. Even if he didn’t understand it, and even if it was a bit embarrassing for him, Albedo just wanted the evening to go back to the way it was a few minutes ago.
But unfortunately, the night felt much colder than it had before.
Rosaria shook her head. “Both of you look ridiculous. You’re wearing plants and glass on your head, and the blues in your scarf don’t match your cloak,” she said as she gestured to both of them in turn. Albedo guessed this was was most probably her attempt at making lighthearted conversation.
“Well, I think we both look rather dashing,” Kaeya replied smoothly, his usual conversational smile returning like clockwork.
Rosaria sighed in response, but it didn’t seem unfriendly.
There was another beat of awkward silence. No one knew what to say next.
“Well, what now?” Rosaria asked, finally.
“It is getting a bit late, it’s almost past eleven o’clock,” Kaeya supplied, looking at Albedo. “Are you expected home at any particular time?”
An image of Captain Dainsleif’s disapproving scowl came to Albedo’s mind. When he was with Kaeya, time had flown by without him realizing, and Albedo had no doubts that the gloomy palace man had already deduced that he had snuck out again. Right now, he was probably pacing up and down the palace halls, adjusting crooked paintings, kicking old wine barrels, and whatever else melancholy men with too much time on their hands liked to do.
He knew Dainsleif was likely going to try to intercept him upon his return. But maybe if he stayed out a bit later than usual, the captain of the Royal Guard would just give up and go to sleep…
“Nope,” Albedo said, a mischievous spark igniting in his eyes. “Tonight, I can stay out as late as I wish.”
“Okay,” Kaeya said slowly, nodding and showing with a subtle wink that he understood what he had really meant.
“Well, as for me,” he continued, turning back to Rosaria, “I’m getting kind of hungry. I don’t know about the two of you, but some grilled meat and white wine would absolutely hit the spot right now.”
“Sounds good to me,” Albedo smiled. “I’m a bit peckish as well.”
“Rosaria,” Kaeya began, shooting her a pointed look. “Could you go get us some food and drinks? Nothing too heavy of course. In fact, chicken skewers would be lovely.”
“Chicken skewers?” Rosaria asked, raising an eyebrow. “But the lines are always so long.”
“Makes sense, they’re delicious and the perfect food to eat while walking,” Kaeya nodded, closing his eyes. “I’m sure if you go right now though, the lines won’t be that long.”
“If I go…? No one’s coming with me?” Rosaria said, more of a challenge than a question.
“Well you see the thing is,” Kaeya said, clasping his hands together. “Albedo really wanted to see the Khaenri’ahn Symphony Orchestra perform, and their set is about to start.”
“What?” Albedo had no idea what Kaeya was talking about.
“Oh. Then how about we all go watch the orchestra and then we get food?” Rosaria suggested, perceptive eyes immediately darting to Albedo’s confused expression.
“I don’t know,” Kaeya replied, shaking his head dramatically. “I’m getting really hungry, aren’t you? And like you said, those lines…”
“I don’t need to see the orchestra,” Albedo cut in. “I attended a concert last week.”
“Oh, but they have that newly composed song that you were really looking forward to hearing,” Kaeya said, staring him directly in the eye. “Don’t you remember?”
“Fine, fine, fine,” Rosaria said, waving a hand in exasperation and already starting to walk past them. “I’ll get the damn food.”
“Thank you Rosaria!” Kaeya called out to her receding back, standing on tiptoe with two hands raised to his face. “And don’t skimp out on cheap wine! I’ll pay you back.”
Rosaria raised a hand in acknowledgment, already halfway out of view.
Kaeya turned to Albedo, an excited glint in his eye. “Let’s go,” he said, gesturing with one hand as he darted down a side street.
“Where’re we going?” Albedo asked, dashing to keep up with his friend.
“Surprise,” Kaeya panted, turning down another street.
“Isn’t it kind of mean to trick Rosaria like that?” Albedo asked, matching pace with him.
“Oh, she wasn’t fooled,” Kaeya laughed, slowing down to a walk as they drew further away from the main street. “I think this is probably her way of apologizing for how she’s been acting all night. Although, I’m sure I’ll get a much worse scolding tomorrow,” he added as an afterthought, shaking his head.
“Why do you let her have so much control over you?”
Kaeya laughed sharply in response, and Albedo instantly regretted the question. He had meant it as a genuine inquiry, but now he feared that he had made Kaeya uncomfortable.
“It’s complicated,” Kaeya said finally, and to Albedo’s relief his tone sounded relaxed and lighthearted. “I think the simplest and most important explanation I can give is that she was my first friend, and my only true friend that remained after things went downhill with my adoptive family.”
Albedo stayed quiet. He knew by now to never push Kaeya when it came to talking about his family. He never lashed out like others might have, but he would close up like a flower in winter and it was downright impossible to save the conversation after that.
“She’s hyper-cautious, and she always wants the best for both of us,” Kaeya continued, pausing between each sentence to think. “And even if sometimes it’s really annoying, and cumbersome…and counterproductive, I appreciate it greatly. I appreciate her.”
There was silence for awhile as the they grew closer and closer to the outskirts of the city, the streets growing plainer and darker as they traveled away from its center. Kaeya’s touch was noticeably absent; after Rosaria had caught them off guard he hadn’t once reached for Albedo’s hand or even offered him his arm.
Why does Rosaria hate me?
The question festered on the tip of his tongue, but after all Kaeya had just said about his friend he couldn’t bring himself to ask it.
Eventually they came to a small wooden fence, and with Kaeya’s help they easily scaled it.
They began walking into a dark thicket of the surrounding forest, and as they continued into the shadows Albedo felt his footsteps falter slightly.
“Where are you taking me?” he asked, the question suddenly seeming much more important to ask than it had when they first started running.
“Nowhere important,” Kaeya answered, throwing a sly smile over his shoulder.
Albedo wrapped his cloak more tightly around him, suddenly realizing that following a man who was much taller and probably also much stronger than him into the woods was probably not the smartest of ideas. Captain Dainsleif had warned him extensively about kidnapping, explaining that because of his status he would be exceptionally at risk for abduction and assassination. It was one of the reasons his guard didn’t want him wandering around the city unattended.
Kaeya suddenly stopped, turning around. “Wait, you’re not afraid, are you?”
Albedo shook his head, but he must have hesitated just a second too long.
“I’m sorry,” Kaeya said, smiling awkwardly as he scratched the back of his head. “It was just a joke. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
Albedo blinked twice.
“I won’t hurt you while we’re here, I promise,” Kaeya continued, his gaze softening only just barely enough to notice. “I was just teasing you. I’m sorry.”
Albedo nodded once, beginning to walk again. He hadn’t brought a weapon because he had assumed there would be no need for one, and he didn’t see one on Kaeya either. And although he had the dust in his knapsack, he didn’t feel ready to create Khemia structures without sketching them out first. Furthermore, practicing alchemy as an act of self-defense was something he was entirely unprepared for. There was a very fine balance of power that had to be struck: too little, and he could easily be caught off guard and swung at, pinned to the ground, or much worse. Too much, and he could end up severely hurting himself.
Surreptitiously, Kaeya took his hand again. Albedo smiled. Somehow that one simple gesture, more than anything else, made him feel as if everything was going to be okay.
He trusted Kaeya, didn’t he? Kaeya was funny, Kaeya was kind. Kaeya was always at the city gates waiting for him, and seemed to genuinely want to get to know him on a deeper level than most of the many people he had met in his travels throughout the town. That all had to mean something, didn’t it?
“Almost there,” Kaeya said, and it was then that Albedo noticed that there was a soft golden glow coming from the woods ahead of them.
Just another minute more, and they found themselves in a dimly lit clearing, with strings of lights and reflective, glimmering ornaments in the shape of Khaenri’ahn stars hanging from the lowest branches of the surrounding trees.
Albedo gasped softly and let go of Kaeya’s hand without even realizing it, walking around the clearing on half-toe as he gazed up at all the decorations. It was a simplistic display, clearly put together by hand, but somehow it felt warmer and more inviting than any of the grand decorations in the city.
Once Albedo reached the far end of the clearing he turned around to face Kaeya, only to discover his friend was smiling at him in a way that made his breath catch his throat.
It was different than the subtle smirk he would adopt while telling jokes or flirting with passers by, and quite different from the sly grin that accompanied his teasing. It definitely wasn’t like the tight-lipped grimace he showed when he was in a tight spot, and it was far from the charming smile he would slip on while talking to a crowd.
Albedo slowly walked over to him, the gently swaying lights no longer holding his attention.
Kaeya’s smile, though much smaller and more understated, felt genuine in a way it never had before.
Albedo stopped a few feet in front of him, one hand tangled in his scarf and the other resting at his side. Of course, it was only now that he saw his real smile that he realized that most of the time, Kaeya’s smile was fake.
“You look sad,” Kaeya said softly, tilting his head slightly in concern. “Is something wrong?”
Albedo pondered it. Truthfully, the thought that Kaeya was in constantly in hiding did make him sad. Kaeya was plenty popular, and he had a kind heart, and Albedo didn’t understand why he had put on so many layers of pretense and charm just to shut people out.
For the first time since they had met, Albedo looked, truly looked at his friend.
The gold light cast soft shadows on his deep bronze skin and reflected in his midnight eyes like twin stars. His hair was charmingly tousled from their run through the streets, but the star crown of flowers and glass remained intact. His expression was much softer now, and as he leaned closer Albedo noticed a certain complexity in it he had never seen before. This was all new information to process, and with it came a new realization:
This Kaeya was disassembled, fragile, and he was absolutely beautiful.
“Hey,” he tried again. “Are you alright?”
“Yes I’m fine,” Albedo said, a smile gently returning to his face with each word. “This is a lovely place. How did you find it?”
“You like it?” Kaeya smiled, the worry immediately evaporating from his face. “And well, I suppose helped put it together it myself.”
“Really?” Albedo asked, his chest and shoulders lifting ever-so-slightly in excitement.
“Yes,” Kaeya chuckled, clearly happy about his excitement. “It’s a little community project that I helped put together. All during the festival, these woods were lit up with these string lights and children were playing hide-and-seek in an enclosed area—with adult supervision of course. I thought it would be a fun thing for the children to do during the celebrations.”
“Hmm, I see. You like hide and seek?”
“Mmhmm,” Kaeya nodded. “When I was a kid, I used to play around the mannor with my stepbrother while his father was away on long trips. Not to brag, but I’m kind of good at it,” he chuckled.
“I’ve never played,” Albedo replied, shaking his head. “But it’s always sounded exciting. Will you teach me sometime?”
“Sure,” he smiled. “I’m sure we’ll get a chance in the future.”
“Are there still children here?” Albedo asked, peering into the shadows behind Kaeya.
“It’s far past most children’s bedtimes now, so the games ended a while ago. However, I asked the adults who had volunteered for clean-up if they could leave this little clearing decorated for the night, and they agreed.”
Albedo looked quickly around at the lights again, and then back to Kaeya.
Kaeya dipped his head, eyes fluttering shut as his smile provided Albedo the answer to his unspoken question.
“You know, earlier you said that ‘if things go on like this’, you might delude yourself into thinking that you’re somehow special,” Albedo suddenly began, the words rising out of his chest before he could stop them. “I assume you meant special…to me?
“A- Albedo,” Kaeya stammered, blinking rapidly.
“Well, you are.”
“Albedo, it was just a joke. A response isn’t—”
“Every joke hides a glimmer of truth.”
Kaeya stared at him. Albedo stared back.
Kaeya’s mouth closed. It seemed that for once, he had no idea what to say.
“The truth is, I often feel like an outsider to human society due to my upbringing,” Albedo began, his voice clear and earnest. After all it might not be the whole truth, but it certainly wasn’t a lie.
“It’s very difficult for me to make genuine connections with people. Most seem afraid to go beyond polite exchanges, and those who do usually want something specific from me, like money or power or political influence. But not you, Kaeya. You always seemed curious about me in a very genuine way. You always eagerly inquire about my paintings and my alchemic experiments—no one else ever asks about those things, or tolerates my talking about them so in depth.”
He was too engrossed in his train of thought to see Kaeya’s hands twitch at his sides.
“It’s never been complicated with you. Just going on walks, or sharing a meal, or even just spending time together—you were happy to do everything with me. Not as your future monarch, but as a friend. That means so much to me. And it does make you special in my eyes.”
Albedo looked up from his clasped hands, finally having gotten through everything he wanted to say.
Kaeya looked like he was going to be sick.
Albedo felt the blood drain from his face. Perhaps he had gone too far.
“Kaeya, I’m so sorry,” he said breathlessly, reaching out a hand in his direction. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No, you’re fine,” he said, clamping a hand over his mouth and squeezing his eyes shut.
“Kaeya, please. I’m not the best at talking to others, so it’s very possible that I could have hurt you. I’m very sorry if I did. Please, I’ll apologize for anything.”
Kaeya didn’t say anything for a bit, just twisting his head slightly so his bangs shielded his face from view. Albedo waited for him to speak, his chest tightening with each second that passed.
“You don’t have to apologize for anything,” he said finally, pulling his hand away from his mouth and turning back to Albedo with something like an apology in his own eyes. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”
“Okay,” Albedo said hesitantly. That still didn’t explain Kaeya’s reaction to what he had said.
“If anyone should be sorry it’s me,” Kaeya said, taking a deep breath. “I’m not used to such candid displays of affection, and it caught me off guard. I’m sorry Albedo, I’m…just sorry.”
Albedo looked down at Kaeya’s boots. He didn’t understand why he was apologizing when it was clearly him who had done something wrong. He was sure there was something else underlying his soft-spoken apologies, something that Kaeya definitely was not telling him. It probably had to do with his past with his adoptive family, or perhaps it was connected to Rosaria…?
“No I’m sorry,” Albedo countered, stubbornly. “I apologize for making you uncomfortable.”
Kaeya shook his head. “Here, let’s just move past this, okay?” he said, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a small gift box, brown and tied with a neat white bow. He held it out to Albedo, the smaller boy looking at it quizzically.
“You brought me a gift?”
“On your birthday, I know. Shocking, right?”
Albedo just stared at the box.
Kaeya laughed, warm and gentle like the swaying of the gold ornaments behind them. “It’s not anything grand or expensive, but I did want to bring you something for the occasion. Because the truth is…you’re a special friend to me too.”
Albedo smiled as he took the box, Kaeya’s words blossoming in his chest like the alchemic flowers he had crafted for the children. He suddenly felt euphoric, the simple return of affection enough to make his hand tremble slightly as he fumbled with the ribbon.
Kaeya smiled too, bottom lip trembling as he watched Albedo lift off the top of the box and slowly reach inside.
Reaching among the cotton padding, he pulled out a pendant necklace made from a simple cloth chord and an oval-shaped charm that was approximately the dark blue color of Kaeya’s eyes. It just a bit smaller and much flatter than an egg, painted with a simple, symmetrical snowflake-like pattern that spread from the middle outwards. As Albedo flipped it over, he realized the other side was blank.
“That’s the front,” Kaeya explained, indicating the decorated side as he walked around behind him. “You wear it like this…may I show you?”
“You may,” Albedo replied quietly, promptly undoing his scarf so that the charm would fall properly. He watched as Kaeya gently reached over his shoulder and took the charm, spreading the cord and gently lowering it over his neck as he swept his hair to the side so that it wouldn’t get caught underneath.
Albedo laughed at the slight tickle, watching where the pendant naturally hung. It fell about to the middle of his chest, low enough to be covered by his cloak if he were to clasp it. He picked it up again and inspected it, noticing a knob on the right he hadn’t seem before. He ran his thumb over it, turning around to look at up at Kaeya.
“It’s a little music box,” Kaeya said, his voice faltering slightly. “My smallest one yet. Do you like it?”
“You made this?” Albedo asked, his mouth opening slightly.
Kaeya nodded proudly.
Albedo looked down excitedly and began to turn the knob, until Kaeya reached out and gently stopped his hand. “Not now, okay? Save it as a surprise for later.”
Albedo was quite confused but he put down the music box anyway, letting it hang around his neck again.
“The melody is based off of a song my mother used to sing to me,” Kaeya explained, looking to the side. “My birth mother, when I was very small. I’ve never shared it with anyone before, but I thought that out of everyone I know…you might understand.”
Albedo clasped the necklace in one hand. Something in his chest felt hollow, although not in a bad way.
“Thank you for for trusting me with something so personal it…it truly is an honor.”
Kaeya smiled in response, but his eyes were glistening as if he were about to cry.
Before he could think, before he could stop himself, Albedo ran forward and wrapped his arms around the taller man, pressing his cheek to his chest.
Both of Kaeya’s arms flew up in surprise, his entire body stiffening. But slowly, delicately, almost as if he was afraid he might crack beneath his touch, Kaeya draped an arm around Albedo’s shoulders, and even more slowly still placed the other hand in his soft hair.
Albedo smiled, noticing how warm Kaeya’s chest felt against his cheek. Although perhaps this was only because as a homunculus, he tended to run cold. Kaeya gently ran his fingers through his curls, thumb resting on the small crown of double braids that kept his hair tied back.
“I’m sorry, Albedo,” he whispered, his voice cracking.
“What for?”
“Everything.”
The word was so soft that Albedo doubted he would have been able to hear it if his ear wasn’t pressed to his chest.
Before Albedo could say anything in reply the grand clock struck midnight, each chime lazily echoing through the silent forest.
He quickly pulled away, although he kept his hands on Kaeya’s waist and somehow Kaeya’s arms ended up draped around his shoulders. “It’s already midnight,” he said, eyes slightly wide.
“Do you have to hurry back to the palace in your pumpkin carriage?” Kaeya teased. “Don’t forget to take both your glass slippers with you.”
“No, no,” Albedo said absentmindedly, looking off in the direction where he thought the palace might be. “But the gates do close in an hour.”
‘Well,” Kaeya smiled, neatly untangling his arms as Albedo took a step back. “I suppose I should escort you home on time, then.”
“Thank you for a lovely night,” he smiled, bowing slightly. “And please send Rosaria my apologies.”
“Will do,” Kaeya laughed. “And, seeing as it’s already tomorrow—”
He paused, talking Albedo’s hand in his own and bringing it to his lips, eyes closing momentarily before he gently lowered their hands. “Happy Birthday, my dear prince.”
Albedo stopped breathing for a moment, his eyes wide. He knew that a kiss on the hand was a common courtesy amongst royalty and high nobility, and he had received many ever since his announcement as future ruler of the land. But in this particular moment, he suddenly realized that Kaeya had never kissed his hand before. And somehow, something he had never even thought about before now suddenly seemed immensely important.
“Let’s get going, shall we?” Kaeya suggested, turning around and walking away smoothly as if it were nothing, as if all of this were perfectly natural to him.
Albedo knew that the gesture didn’t mean anything. It was simply etiquette, a gesture of politeness and absolutely nothing more. It didn’t mean anything at all, and yet Albedo found himself stumbling over his own feet as he scrambled to catch up with Kaeya.
Kaeya chuckled at his clumsiness and Albedo laughed along with him, if only because he didn’t know what else to do.
“Oh! Your scarf,” Kaeya exclaimed suddenly, pointing slightly behind them to where Albedo had let the garment fall when he had rushed to hug him.
“Oh, right,” he breathed, glad that he now had something to blame his flustered behavior on. He picked up the scarf and tied it quickly, clasping his cloak shut first this time.
They set off again, through the trees and back into the slowly dimming lights of the city, wearing their new gifts and already reminiscing about their favorite moments of the night.
They said farewell at the same place they had met, Kaeya kissing his hand one more time. But this time, Albedo was prepared. He placed his hands on Kaeya’s shoulder and reached up on tip-toe, pecking his cheek lightly before retreating.
Kaeya looked absolutely shocked, a hand flying up to where Albedo’s lips had been.
“What? It’s what friends do, right?” Albedo smiled, clasping his hands behind his back.
“Ah,” Kaeya said, nodding as if to demonstrate that he understood. “Yes, a common gesture of affection between friends.”
Albedo giggled, pleased that he had been able to make Kaeya flustered in return.
“Doesn’t someone have to get home?” Kaeya asked, putting one hand on his hip.
“Sure,” Albedo answered, unable to stop smiling.
“Okay, well then shoo,” Kaeya smiled, gesturing towards the gate with one hand. “Don’t want you to get in trouble, now.”
Albedo began walking towards the gate, turning around and waving after a few paces. “Goodbye Kaeya!”
Kaeya waved in response, smiling one last time as he leaned back against the tower of crates.
Albedo turned around and practically danced through the gate, down the path, and across the bridge—somehow even more giddy than when he had arrived.
He paused for a second to catch his breath, looking around at the display of lights and Cecelia petals that still adorned the bridge.
He had been able to coax another genuine smile out of Kaeya.
Albedo laughed again, light and airy like the autumn breeze. He cast one more glance towards the city, waving one last time even though there was no way anyone would be able to see him from this distance.
And with that, he ran the rest of the way home.
⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧
Albedo climbed back through the North Tower study window with just a small bit of difficultly, shutting the window behind him with a soft click. He descended the stairs as quickly as he could, his heart thudding from the exertion of the climb as well as anticipation of what he might encounter once he exited the stairwell.
The palace had four ten-story towers, north, south, east, and west, each built of white stone and attached to an elegantly structured building of glass and marble. Unfortunately, Albedo lived in the South Tower, and in order for him to travel there he would have to pass through not only the brightly-lit ballroom, but also the enormous open throne room and the cavernous banquet hall where even the lightest clink of a crystal glass caused an resounding echo.
It certainly wasn’t ideal, but after calculating all the risks he had decided it would be preferable to keep his escape spot in the North Tower where no one dared wander—even if it significantly raised the chances of him being discovered on the way back to his room. After all, it was better to be scolded after already having accomplished something than to be prevented from doing it in the first place.
He steadied himself, preparing for the journey. He had to be fast, discreet, and quiet all at the same time—high demands that were in direct conflict with one another.
He took his first hesitant steps across the ballroom, scurrying into a half-run once he realized no one was around. Honestly, the empty, echoing chamber had always made him feel a bit sad. Albedo knew a great many stories had once unfolded within these walls, and he had heard many tales of the wonderful, almost otherworldly balls that had been thrown in the past. Buth without the luster of the joy and laughter that they once bore witness to, the grand architecture felt like nothing more than an empty shell and a wasteful display of luxury.
He skimmed over the ballroom floor quickly, as always eager to be free from its lonely, slightly eerie atmosphere. He passed through the opposite door and thankfully was able to cross the small lounge adjacent to the throne room without being seen. He held his breath as he pried opened the double doors, casting a quick glance through the crack between them. Unfortunately the lights had already been shut off, meaning that the only lighting available was the moonlight that streaming in through tall glass windows. This cast the majority of the room in shadow, so it was impossible to tell if there were any people around. Albedo couldn’t hear anything though, so he cautiously padded out from the corner, trying to make a direct line from one door to the next.
He saw the silhouette of a guard positioned in front of one of the windows on the far side of the room, but he could tell from his body language that he was likely asleep. Another guard was positioned much closer to him, but fortunately he was facing the other way and Albedo was able to slip past him quickly.
By this point he was more than halfway across the room. His heart was racing, impatient to reach the other side, and it was all he could manage to keep his head bowed and his eyes focused on the ground directly in front of him. He was almost there, he was almost there, he was—
“Young Master Albedo.”
He slowly came to a stop, looking up from a pair of dusty black boots to a familiar stoic stare that always seemed to pierce right through him.
“Ah—Captain Dainsleif. I must say, I didn’t expect you to be awake this late.”
“Well,” Dainsleif began, each word sounding like a cracked nut between his teeth. “It’s a bit difficult to sleep when you are captain of the Royal Guard and the soon-to-be prince of the kingdom has gone mysteriously missing on the eve of his twenty-third birthday.”
“My sincere apologies. I thought that a brief outing through the town during a festival wouldn’t cause any trouble. It seems I was mistaken.”
The dim lighting concealed the captain’s precise facial expression, but Albedo knew him well enough to guess it was somewhere on a gradient between exasperated and angry.
“Whatever,” he sighed after a long pause. “Poor Sucrose has been up all night waiting for you. You’d best put her worries to rest and turn in for the night as quickly as possible. You have an important day tomorrow, remember.”
“Of course,” Albedo replied, dipping his head politely. “Thank you for looking out for me, and I’m very sorry for troubling you.”
Dainsleif just grunted in response.
The two stepped forward to passing each other in the dark, walking in opposite directions before Dainsleif’s footsteps slowed to a stop.
“Also, Young Master Albedo.”
Albedo stopped in his tracks. “Yes?”
“You didn’t happen to meet up with that young man again? Kaeya…Ragnvindr?”
Albedo’s heart jumped, his hand instinctively flying to the pendant around his neck before he could stop himself.
Dainsleif sighed heavily, having learned by habit to take Albedo’s silence as confirmation.
“Heed my advice. Nothing good will come of you associating with him.”
Albedo’s jaw clenched, the hair on the back of his neck standing up. He felt lucky Dainsleif couldn’t see his face.
“Why, because he’s one of the common folk?” he challenged. “Because he’s an orphan?”
Dainsleif ground his teeth. “Everything I know about that man is classified information. All I can do as your bodyguard is warn you. Stay away from him. Not just your safety, but his as well.”
Albedo narrowed his eyes in the dark.
“I’ve tried to warn you before, but I would like you to take my advice seriously this time, because you officially become successor to the throne tomorrow.”
After another long, stifling silence, Dainsleif sighed again.
“Goodnight, Young Master Albedo. Get some sleep.”
Albedo waited until he could no longer hear his footsteps, turning to look over his shoulder as he slowly morphed into the shadows of the throne room.
The captain’s dark cape swung back and forth as he walked. Albedo used to tease him from time to time about his almost ridiculously pompous dark outfit and perpetually gloomy demeanor, until the day he had seen him take his anger out on some of his master’s other creations, tearing them to shreds in the palace courtyard.
Albedo had watched, stunned, from an upper story window as Dainsleif slashed through the artificial wolves until they were nothing but a pile of shards, an odd, dark viscous liquid seeping into the snow beneath them. He had run straight to his master’s study afterwards, fearing that the palace guard would turn around and see him through the window.
Later that day, Dainsleif had come into the sunlit study holding the dismembered heads of one of the mechanical-like hounds.
“I’m sorry, Gold,” he had said, bowing deeply. “I don’t know what went wrong. They attacked me and I had no choice but to defend myself.”
“Oh dear,” his master had replied, adjusting her glasses on the bridge of her nose as she took the head from him. “This keeps happening. Well, I suppose it’s nothing we can’t fix, right?”
Albedo had nodded, keeping his eyes fixed on the weighing scales in front of him.
Dainsleif had stuck first, without a shadow of a doubt. Albedo knew what he had saw.
“Every failed prototype presents an opportunity for improvement,” Rhinedottir had stated matter-of-factly, already beginning to clear the table so she could inspect the severed head. “Bring me the rest of the remains, would you Albedo?”
Albedo had stood up, bowed and quickly left the room, extraordinarily grateful for the opportunity to escape the conversation. As much as he valued truth, he deeply feared the resulting complications if either Dainsleif or his master were to find out that he had watched the scene unfold. Even after he returned to the study and discovered that the palace guard had already left, he had kept his head down and his mouth shut.
Albedo still saw Dainsleif as more of a nuisance than anything. However, he did have to admit that his seemingly unprovoked aggression in the courtyard that day, as well as the terrifyingly nonchalant way he had lied about it, stayed as a lasting reminder of what else the captain of the Royal Guard might be hiding beneath that cloak of his.
Albedo sighed softly, traveling the rest of the distance to his tower as quickly as he could.Climbing the stairs to his bedroom he suddenly remembered one of Dainsleif’s comments, and he politely stopped the next attendant he saw on her way downstairs.
“Excuse me,” he said, pausing on one of the staircase landings and waiting for her to do the same. “Do you know where Sucrose is? I owe her an apology.”
“Oh—Sucrose went to bed a couple of hours ago,” she said, curtseying.
“Ah,” Albedo smiled, shoulders dropping in relief. “That’s good.”
“Yes, she said that you had already come in and she had seen you to your bedchambers, so she left for the night.”
“A couple hours ago?” Albedo asked, blinking. “But this is my first time setting foot in the palace since after supper.”
“That’s what she said,” the attendant reiterated, her eyes darting to the side nervously. “Perhaps she was mistaken?”
“It must be exhaustion,” Albedo muttered, his brow furrowing. “She works herself too hard. But still—hallucinations? Doesn’t that seem a bit extreme?”
“I’m just repeating what she told me,” she said, curtseying again.
“Thank you,” Albedo said kindly, trying to give her a reassuring smile. “Please, don’t worry yourself too much about it. I’m sure it’s nothing.”
The servant nodded rapidly.
“Goodnight, try to get some rest,” he smiled.
“Likewise, Young Master.”
Albedo dipped his head and continued up the stairs, quickly washing up once he reached his bedchambers and changing into a nightshirt. He folded the scarf neatly and placed it delicately on a shelf, but Kaeya’s necklace he kept on.
He sighed contentedly as he settled into bed, his silk pillows delightfully cool beneath his flushed cheeks.
There were no windows in his room, which he often lamented as it would make his escape much easier. However, with permission from his master he had painted a section of the night sky on his ceiling, trying to make the placements and constellations as accurate as possible. Some said that the fate of every living being in Teyvat was already foretold in the stars, and the mysteries of the future could be unravelled by anyone with a sharp enough eye and keen enough wit. That however, was the work of an astrologer, not an alchemist, and Albedo preferred to stay focused on his administered task of mastering the art of Khemia, at least for the time being.
Albedo had always found the stars quite interesting though, and would often gaze up at the ones had painted as he fell asleep in flickering candlelight. Some of the attendants would tease him from time to time about not liking to fall asleep in the dark even though he was clearly an adult, but he didn’t mind.
It was silly preferences like these that brought him closer to humanity, after all.
Albedo took out Kaeya’s pendant, holding it up to the painted sky above.
Suddenly his eyes widened. In light of those moments that Kaeya had let down his guard, while they were alone in together in the lantern-lit clearing, Albedo realized he had finally discovered what Kaeya’s aura reminded him of.
He smiled, flopping over to his side and closing his eyes. He would tell Kaeya tomorrow, assuming they had a chance to sneak away from the festivities again. With how absent his master had been lately, they probably would.
The pendant remained gently clasped in hand as he drifted asleep, the lights of the festival still dancing behind his eyes and a soft smile on his face even as he began to dream.
For the first time ever since he could remember, his birthday hadn’t felt lonely.