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Another dawn, another day of playing manager/cat wrangler. Though, honestly, I'm still getting my bearings after the emotional roller coaster of the past few weeks. I'd agreed to a more relaxed schedule, but I was still in a state of constant turmoil from the most recent revelation of the truth behind the charity match at Pengy Land. Domino, being so good at reading people, noticed this and invited me out dancing to help unwind. Honestly, an escape sounded good, even if it was temporary, anxiety-inducing crowds be damned.

Thankfully he took me to one of the 'smaller' clubs. We found an empty table and sat down. The room was lit with neon pink and purple lighting and the music was thumping and everyone was dancing as if it was their last day on earth.

Domino catches my eye and I bite my lip feeling my cheeks flush. I think I might have seen him flush too but with the lighting, it's hard to be certain. I can't help but get the warm fuzzies whenever our eyes meet or he gives me one of those private smiles. Not the ones he usually wears when engaging with people, but a smile full of warmth. I get so flustered and embarrassed it's hard to keep my head straight. I don't know what to do. So, I do what I've always done best, crack jokes to lighten the mood or enjoy polite and safe conversation. Honestly, some of the feelings I've been getting feel similar to the rush I felt whenever I was around my rival. That rush of adrenaline, that heat I just can't seem to quell, where fight or flight kicks in as the roaring wave comes in ready to crash over me. I shake my head trying to clear it. No sense getting wrapped up in my own head, I need to focus on the here and now.

“I'll grab us some drinks,” Domino offers. “What'll your poison be tonight?”

“Surprise me,” I reply with a grin.

He smirks and I squee a little inside. “Adventurous, are we? Don't go regretting that decision later.”

As he scoots off to get the beverages I take a glance around the room. It isn't exactly my scene, but I'm steadily getting used to crowds. Maybe someday I might even... whaaaaaaat the heck is my rival doing here???

For a moment I pray it's the trick of the light, but no. I don't know anyone else who wears cockiness like a three-piece suit. Forget speak of the devil, just thinking about Hunter caused him to manifest! My heart speeds double time, an unfortunate habit by this point. I'd been crushing on Hunter for a long time, long before I met the GCF crew. Turns out just because I found feelings for someone else, those old feelings aren't magically erased.

Before our eyes can connect and hurriedly look away and pretend I don't notice him. For a few, heart-pounding seconds, I think it worked.

“Seeker,” I hear my rival say right above me. “We need to talk.”

“Seeker is not here,” I say in a robotic voice. “Please leave a message at the sound of the--”

I'm cut off when his hand thumps down onto the table, cutting me off. “I'm serious,” he says, and when I chance a glance up, he looks it. “In private. Please?”

I take a quick look around for Domino, but he's still across the room at the bar getting drinks. I look to Hunter, frowning. Perhaps I might get some insight into what happened that day at the charity event. If he went out of his way to come looking for me and this wasn't just some wild coincidence, it couldn't hurt to at least hear him out. “Fine.”

Hunter leads me just outside into the neighboring alley. Before I could open my mouth to ask what this is about, he pulls me into a tight hug. My cheeks flame and I instinctively squirm out of his grip.

“Whoa, hold the phone,” I say putting at least an arm's length of space between us.

'What?” Hunter says, his usual smirk back in place. The one that always made me giddy inside. “Am I not allowed a friendly greeting?”

I fold my arms across my chest. “Last we spoke you said we were at war. Your words, not mine.”

He places a hand on his hip, while the other rubbed sheepishly at his neck. “Come on, you know how things get in the heat of the moment.” His eyes meet mine and his voice becomes husky. “We've been dancing this dance a long time, you and I.”

Maybe too long. “Why are you here?” I demand, trying to sound annoyed.

He takes a couple of steps toward me and my knees lock up. The wave that is Hunter is slowly crashing down around me. “I wanted to check up on you. One of your teammates came by and I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“You couldn't just call me like a normal person?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

“It's not that simple.”

“Nothing ever is with you.”

His face hardens and he takes another step toward me and I immediately step back. Right into a wall. Before I can move out of the way Hunter places both hands on either side of me, trapping me against the wall. My heart is thumping wildly, my face flushing at the proximity. All it would take is one little shift and our bodies would be touching.

“Let me keep it simple then,” Hunter said, voice low. “I want you to leave your team and join me in team P2W.”

“Yeah, I'm pretty sure Valkyrie doesn't want me on her team,” I say flatly.

Hunter smirks. “She actually sent me to invite you since you and I are so... close,” he butters that last word.

It's hard for me to swallow. Hard to think. A quick glance around tells me there's no one in sight. 

"Come on, Seeker." Hunter reaches up, toying with a strand of my hair like he always does when he wants to be playful. “Watching you faff about with this team is cute but it's getting old. You belong with the winners. You belong with me.” The implication of those words sends another rush of heat to my face. Hunter shifts closer and I can feel his body against mine.

I want to push him away but I'm not the gutsy sort. Instead, I try to gently nudge him to get the point across. “I'm not just abandoning them. They are my team. My friends.”

He doesn't take the hint. Hunter just keeps pushing. “You say that yet every chance you get, you reach out to me, approach me. And don't say it's because we're friends. I know the truth. I know how you make how I make you feel. And if you come with me I can make you feel so much more.”

I can feel his breath on my face and my body once more freezes. I think of Domino, all of his warm smiles, his off-color jokes that make me smile, and I can't take any pleasure in this. Hunter leans in and in a blind panic I shove him and he stumbles back looking shocked.

“Ahem.”

A very audible throat-clearing causes Hunter to jump but when he sees Domino his face falls into a disgruntled frown. “Oh,” he says folding his arms. “It's just you.”

“Yep, just me,” Domino says, his usual grin plastered on his face. I feel so mortified I can't even bring myself to meet his eyes. “Gonna have to ask you to stop harassing our manager.”

“I wasn't harassing her,” Hunter rebuffs. “We were just chatting. Isn't that right Seeker?”

I don't answer. I feel so ashamed I want to melt like a puddle and evaporate.

“You know, it's so sad,” Domino says with a sigh.

“What's that?” Hunter asks.

“You. You're just so incredibly sad,” Domino says his voice slipping into a dark place as a familiar, rictus grin slides into place. “You're so desperate to keep Seeker around, so terrified that one day she'll wake up and realize she doesn't need you in her life. And you know full well how absolutely kindhearted and charming she is, how she could get anyone if she put her heart into it. So, you dangle yourself like a piece of meat, give her just enough positive attention before snatching it away, and you play this sad pathetic game again and again in the hopes that she won't leave you. Because if she doesn't care about you, well, THeN WhO WilL?” Domino straightens up as Hunter gapes at him in horror, for once at a loss for words. “Also your haircut looks dumb,” he caps off simply.

I clap a hand over my mouth to keep a snort in. While I'm not sure how to feel about Domino dressing down my rival like that, I'm a little shocked at what I hear. Domino speaks truths, even the ugly ones people would rather keep buried and hidden.

Hunter's expression goes from horror to rage, his face redder than I have ever seen it. “I don't know why Seeker bothers to hang out with a bunch of losers. But you, you think you have any real chance with her? You're just some psychotic weirdo.”

“Hey!”

Both of them jump in surprise at my exclamation. Heck, I'm surprised at myself. But I keep the train rolling turning to my rival with a stern glare. “Say what you will about me, whatever, I'll brush it off like I always do. But you do NOT badmouth my team or my friends.”

“I thought we were friends,” Hunter says, his expression turning sullen.

“So did I,” I mutter holding my arms tightly. “Maybe we shouldn't be.”

Hunter's eyes widen and for once he looks genuinely rattled by my words. “Seeker... no, please...” He bites his lip as though fighting with himself. He wants to say more but can't. His eyes are pleading.

“Please just do us both a favor and go,” I say firmly. “I'll decide whether or not I want to talk to you later. You can tell Valkyrie I'll accept her invitation but I better not see you.”

He looks dejected but I don't allow myself to buckle. Not this time. He shoots a venomous look at Domino before making a swift exit. Once he was gone it was just me and Domino. Miraculously enough no one else seemed to have it notice the altercation. Good, I don't think I could take anymore embarrassment this evening.

With my rival gone I can feel the adrenaline draining away leaving me feeling exhausted and shaky. Domino locks eyes with me and rather than looking judgmental he looks concerned.

“I know I've said it before that it's a loaded question but... are you okay?” he asks softly.

“Fine, perfectly hunky-dory.” I try to step, stumble on my shaky legs, then fall back against the wall I was previously pinned against. I slide down onto the ground. “I just need to sit for a minute.”

“We can just go home if you want.”

“No, please,” I say quickly. “I don't... I don't want them to see me like this.” I don't like showing weakness. It's so much easier to just laugh things off. But I know I can trust Domino. We've both seen each other at our lowest points. Still, I feel so weak, my body shivering even though it's not that cold. Domino slips his jacket off and drapes it over me before slumping down beside me. It's a small gesture, tender and caring, so very Domino. I hug the jacket around me. One of his few worldly possessions and he's sharing it with me.

“Sorry for... well, I know I tend to handle these things with all the grace of a kaiju in a bustling metropolis,” he mumbles.

“No, I'm glad you did what you did. I just wish you hadn't seen me like that.”

“Like what exactly?” he asks looking genuinely confused.

“Like such a pushover,” I mutter, hugging the jacket tightly around myself. It smells like the pleasant aroma of laundry detergent. “For the longest time, it was just Hunter and me. Us against the world. I never had the confidence he did, not a social butterfly, crowds of people make me nervous, so I tended to be a shut-in. But Hunter, he was always there. He stuck with me and even though he changed and his playful jabs started to hurt, I stuck with him because... because..."

“Because he was all you had,” Domino finishes.

I nod hugging my knees to my chest.

“But that's not true at present, yes? You got us, as dysfunctional of a family as we might be,” Domino pointed out. “Yet you seem to keep drifting back to him.”

I groan. “You noticed that, huh?”

Domino rubs the back of his neck looking guilty. “I noticed, much like me, you tend to sneak away for some alone time. A few times I got worried I went looking for you and saw you with him. I swear I wasn't trying to be a creep about it. Just... you were always checking in with me and I wanted to return the favor.”

I didn't feel off-put by the news, but rather flattered, and then embarrassed because it means Domino saw me with Hunter. Saw how helpless I was against those charms. But as I opened my mouth to explain myself he headed me off.

“You don't have to explain yourself to me. You haven't done anything wrong. So no need to justify anything.”

It certainly feels like I did something wrong. I sigh heavily. “I guess the best way I can describe it is... Hunter is an old habit. Familiar.”

“And there's comfort in the familiar.” Domino nods in understanding. “I get it. I'll admit when you came in like a Wrecking Ball, shaking up our lives, I was a bit hesitant at the prospect of change. But, well, just by our first conversation I knew you were a good and genuine person. Someone I wanted to have in my corner.”

“And charming?” I ask playfully, recalling his earlier words.

I see a hint of a blush on his cheeks. “I was merely pointing out how he perceived you.” he cocks his head to look at me. “But if we're being brutally honest, yes, I find you to be an absolute delight.”

The compliment was sincere. It didn't feel like a lure meant to keep me around. Domino's shear warmth felt so comforting compared to Hunter's hot and cold routine. “He's right though. I keep coming back again and again.”

“Quite the opposite actually. He's the one who keeps coming back to you,” Domino says matter of factly. “I know people. I am really good at reading people. And my read from him is that he is obsessed with two things and two things only. Winning and you. Whatever his excuses might be, he's the one who keeps putting himself on your radar in the hopes that you'll approach him because when it comes down to it you are a truly kind and caring person. It's that willingness to reach out a helping hand to others that really drew me to you.” He places his hand near mine, but not quite making contact, allowing me that choice. “I want you to know, in no uncertain terms, you joining our little group, our family, has been the best experience of my life.”

“I feel the same.” My fingers close the distance and I grasp his hand. “Mind if I borrow your shoulder?”

“Only if I can have it back. Would probably be hard to play shmups with only one shoulder.” He blushes again then says, “But anytime you need it, it's all yours.”

I chuckle in order to cover the fierce blush as I rest my head on the curve of his shoulder. “I'm glad you showed up,” I murmur.

“Well, I could hardly ignore it when you messaged me for help,” he says simply.

This statement gives me pause. I never messaged him. Didn't have the chance to. It must have been Iris. She knew I needed help and she got it for me. I'll need to remember to thank her later. Domino and I spent a few quiet minutes like that until I feel fully calmed down.

“Thanks for everything. I'm feeling okay now.” I stand up, offering him a hand, and return his jacket. “Our date isn't ruined, is it?”

“It will take a lot more than that for me to not want to spend my entire evening with you,” Domino says with a playful smirk.

Gavin: The human equivalent of yogurt, good but a little boring. And nutritional.

Naomi: You definitely married Maru when playing Stardew Valley.

Ash: Went in for the cosplay nerd, stayed for the gender crisis.

Teo: You're the most introverted of introverts and never leave the house, you need someone with his energy.

QueenBee: You need someone with you when you go out to eat so they can tell the waiter you ordered mashed potatoes.

Percy: You want a daddy, but not the sexy kind, the kind that wiggles his fingers in front of a buffet and says "Don't mind if I do!"

Juniper: You are a whore for the friends-to-lovers trope

Rival/Hunter: You are a whore for the friends-to-enemies-to-lovers trope

Grace: You just want good things for Iris.

Jynx: Despite her glaring flaws, you truly believe that a big tiddy goth girl can do no wrong.

Grace AND Jynx: You couldn't decide between the cute softgirl and the big tiddy goth girl, so you decided, "¿Por qúe no los dos?"

Locksley: You are me. Or you read too many romance novels.

Zapper: This is the same joke as QueenBee but you also want a chubby girl to sit on your face.

Domino: Mentally ill and gay (applies to every option but especially here). Also you watch ProZD.

Rhapsody: You want to get bridal-carried into the sunset by a chill enby who will make you breakfast every morning after the best sex of your life.

He had to learn everything at square one. He had to learn that not everyone praising him, and obeying his orders are to be trusted and on his side.

He learned that one time when one of his trusted servants attempted to poison him. Note: trusted servant.

The servant who took care of him ever since he was a newborn baby. The servant who first witnessed his first walk and heard his first words. The servant who he treated as a father figure. The servant who became both his guardian and teacher after the Queen’s passing.

He was so hurt and betrayed when that happened to the point that he closed his heart and stopped giving his trust.

You felt that deeply. Not the betrayed part, no. The story is so good you had to close the book and stare at the wall for ten minutes because heck, that's some tragic backstory.

But wait, there's more. More tragic? Yes.

Scaramouche, the lonely prince, is going to die. Not where he will grow old, or because of illness.

You thought that the poisoning was the last assassination attempt, but it turns out that there would be more than that.

Ugh… just thinking about them is making you feel nauseous!

Despite the tragic story, you keep reading it— hoping to see the part where Scaramouche will finally get his happy ending. But sadly, that part isn’t, and will never come.

See, this is the kind of book that deserves to be in the spotlight. Not the ones where the protagonist always needs saving and help like they cannot walk on their own two feet and do anything by themselves. No shade, by the way.

Anyway, back to the boring party…

Seeing that everyone’s done greeting you and that your parents are now busy entertaining the visitors, you took that chance to slip away and return to your room. After closing the door and locking it, you didn’t waste any time as you removed your heels and flopped down on your bed.

Yes, this kind of peace is just what I wanted.

You sit up and start removing the jewelry you’re wearing. You're never comfortable wearing them, along with the heels.

You were just about to put them back on the drawer, but you stopped when you noticed something on the top.

You blink once. Twice.

Oh my god.

Screaming, you grab the book and throw yourself back on the bed. There was a small note at the bottom:

Happy Birthday.

That’s it. No sender, no name— not even yours. Just those two words. It's like the heavens had heard your wishes and decided to give you the thing that you wanted the most on your birthday.

You hold up the novel and examine the cover. Just like the other volumes, the cover featured Scaramouche, sitting on his throne that's covered in thorns. That looks awfully painful. The only thing that's different from the first two was that his crown is now covered in blood and is dripping down his face.

The poor prince…

Changing to your pajamas, you flop back down on the bed and hug the novel as if comforting the protagonist that everything will be okay. You read the back cover again— but it was blank.

“Why is it blank?” you whisper to yourself and examine the book. The back cover is a total blank, without any designs, words, not even the bar code and ISBN.

Weird..

Yawning, you felt the exhaustion coming back to your body as you hugged the book to your chest and closed your eyes.

The book started glowing, but it was ignored as you started drifting to the dreamland.

—

Feeling the shivering cold in your body, you slowly open your eyes. The first thing that you noticed was the golden chandelier hanging in the ceiling. The second thing was the smell of a candle and incense wafting to your nose. And the third thing is a voice, a sharp and cold one that could rival the temperature of the floor you’re currently lying in.

“I’m giving you three seconds to tell me who you are and how you end up in my room.”

You sat up so fast you felt your vision blurring. You blinked through it and found the owner of the voice standing on your left, arms folded and looking down at you with a deadly glare.

But wait— he looks awfully familiar.

Dark indigo hair with a weird haircut, sharp eyes, and that red eyeliner…

You know that face.

You stared at the cover and even searched him up on the internet because holy— man got good-damn looks.

"Scaramouche!?" you said out loud before you could stop yourself.

His eyes narrowed. "Two seconds.”

He didn't even ask you how you know his name. He's just standing there, almost towering over you as he counts down and waits for your answer.

You slowly sit up and look around. “...How… where am I? I was just in my room right now.”

Funny you have the same questions as him running in your mind now.

Why are you here? With Scaramouche standing two feet away from you, you’re sure now that you're in his room. So now the real question is—

How did you end up inside the novel?!

“One—”

“I promise I'm not gonna hurt you!” you suddenly blurts out as you scramble to your feet in panic. Silence followed and you bit your lip in embarrassment.

Way to go, y/n.

“Hurt me?” his gaze turns sharper and he slowly walks towards you. You took a step back, but every time you do, the man in front of you keeps stepping closer.

Your back met the cold wall and you were looking everywhere but him. If looks could kill, you’d be lying dead by now.

“U-um…”

His aura is intimidating you so much you want to dig the ground and bury yourself six feet under.

You can feel his gaze lingering on you and you bite your lip to ease your nervousness. You can literally hear your own heartbeat.

Remind me why is he my favorite character again?

“Turn around.”

“Huh?”

Finally, you got the courage to look at him. WHAT'S HE GONNA DO?!

“I said turn around.”

“Uh… w–why?”

“I have to make sure you’re not hiding something inside that…” he eyes you up and down. “..sleepwear of yours.”

Your gaze immediately went down to your clothes. You're still wearing your pajamas, what's wrong with it?

“Um… what's wrong with my clothes?”

“Turn around.”

“I’m not hiding anythi—”

“Don't make me repeat myself, woman.”

Woma—?!

Feeling like crashing out, you took a deep breath to calm yourself.

Think carefully, y/n. This guy had every right to be cautious because he's surrounded by people wanting to take his life and throne. Calm down. Understand him. Be considerate. Take a deep breath. Inhale…… exhale.

“Look, Sir—” you stopped. Wait, what should I call him..? “Do I look like someone who’d take your life, Your Highness?”

You pointed to your pajamas. “Do assassins wear pajamas when trying to assassinate someone?”

You point at your face. “Do assassins not bother covering their faces when trying to assassinate someone?”

“No,” he narrowed his eyes once again. “But you might be the first so I’m telling you for the last time, turn around. That's an order.”

Those last three words made it clear that you’re not winning this. So with a resigned sigh, you reluctantly turn around to face the wall.

You wait for him to do something, but minutes have passed, Scaramouche hasn't moved to do a body check on you.

So taking this as a chance to prove your innocence, you start talking again in a low and soft voice.

"I'm not here to hurt you," you said. "I don't even know how I got here. All I remember was, I was asleep in my room, hugging my favorite book. Now I woke up on your floor without any clue how it happened.”

Please believe me. Please believe me. Please believe me. Please believe me.

Suddenly, you remembered some scenes from the book. The crown prince was famous for throwing "suspicious people" into the dungeons for trial— and execution.

And you? Who had just appeared in his private room out of thin air wearing pajamas?

Yup, you’re definitely doomed.

“Who sent you?” he asked.

“I... I don't know.”

“How did you get here?”

“I don’t know.”

“What is your name?”

“I don't know—huh?”

You turned around to face him. He was still staring, arms crossed, waiting for an answer. His deep purple eyes seemed to glow, and you nervously bit your lip.

“I didn't give you permission to look at me.”

Your patience is running thin. Between the stress and the exhaustion of standing all day at your birthday party, you were done. You closed your eyes, took a long breath, and gave him a tired look.

“Please pardon my behavior, Sir. But I promise I'm not a threat. Like I've said, I have no idea how I ended up here. I was sleeping in my own bed because I was exhausted— it was my birthday yesterday, you know.”

You weren't sure why you added that last part, but at this point, you’d say anything to make him believe you. The Crown Prince didn’t respond, he just kept watching you, waiting for you to keep talking.

And because you're desperate to prove your innocence, you continue.

“You can... I don't know, tie me up in the corner over there, if you want? If I don't do anything all night and you wake up safe tomorrow, that proves I'm not an enemy.”

Silence. Then—

“You speak as if you know me and my situation quite well, woman.”

Oh, Your Highness, guess what?

You nervously scratched the back of your head and looked away.

“Actually...” you hesitated. Was it even safe to tell him you weren't from this world? “It's a long story. But I can assure you, all your secrets are safe with me!”

“My secrets?”

“Ah—”

You could only offer a weak smile and a peace sign. For some reason, the tension in your body started to fade. The room didn’t feel as cold, and Scaramouche didn't seem quite as scary anymore. Were you really getting used to this place already?

“Ajax,” the prince called out.

The door swung open and a knight stepped inside. The moment you saw his ginger hair and the mask resting on his head, your hand flew to your mouth. You actually gasped out loud.

Oh my god!

“Childe!?”

The words were out before you could stop them. You immediately regretted it as two pairs of eyes locked onto you.

Holy shit.

—

“Um… I know I said that you can tie me up, but that was just me trying to lighten up the mood! Come on, is this really necessary? I'm not an enemy! I can't even kill a mosquito!” you wriggle on the chair and look at the person behind you. “Mr. Childe, Sir, I don't mean to say your name out loud– ouch, don't make it too tight!— but please believe me, it was only a slip of tongue.”

“‘Slip of tongue’, so you really do know his name?” Scaramouche asked, his arms crossed while he stared at you down.

“Don't you think we should hear her out first? I don't really mind her calling and knowing my name, you know. Plus, she's pretty.” Childe, who just finished tying you up on a chair, said. He stands up and gives you a pitiful smile.

You feel your face flushing at the sudden compliment, but you have bigger problems right now so you look back at Scaramouche and nod your head aggressively as if agreeing to his knight’s suggestion of hearing you out first.

But sadly, this prince is also stubborn as hell. Sometimes, once he's made up his mind, everything else is just nothing to him.

“You should never let down your guard around her, Ajax. You know damn well that the people wanting to take my life are getting creative. Look at her hideous clothes.”

Back to my pajamas again?

“They're not hideous! They're cozy—”

“The patterns are adorable.” Childe deadpan.

“See, he gets me!” you're screaming now because you never thought that Scaramouche would actually take your words seriously!

“This or dungeon. Choose.”

That shuts you up instantly.

Taking a deep breath, you lower your gaze and bite your lower lip. So much for getting my favorite novel on my birthday…

When silence erupted in the cold room, your eyes started to feel heavy. All that exhaustion from standing all day is coming back to you again. It looks like the Crown Prince isn't going to give you a chance to speak, but at least he’s keeping you alive.

But this is still too much!

Think, y/n! Say something to get out of these ropes!

You look up at them again. “I have something very important to tell you, Your Highness.”

“Keep an eye on her, Ajax. Make sure she doesn't do anything.” the crown prince ignored you. He turns on his heel and heads to his desk. His aura literally said that he’s not in the mood to talk to you.

You're running out of options to prove your innocence, so you muster all your courage and sit up properly, looking at him.

“Someone is attempting to poison you tomorrow,” you said. “If I'm wrong, you can throw me into the dungeon and do whatever you want. But if I'm right—”

"Poison?" he stops in his tracks, cutting you off. “Sorry to disappoint you but that kind of information is nothing new to me.”

Well, that's... sad?

“But I'm telling the truth! Your maid, the new one with a mole under her left eye? That’s her. She’s actually a spy sent by Duke Pantalone.”

“Oh, you even know about Duke Pantalone?” Childe raised his eyebrow.

“I actually know everyone here…”

Scaramouche slowly turns back around, his eyes narrowing. The room feels ten degrees colder.

"You know everyone?" he repeats, his voice low and dangerous. “The more you talk, the more you earn yourself a ticket to the dungeon.”

Childe leans against the wall, looking genuinely impressed. “Just curious, where are you from, princess?”

“It’s y/n.”

He blinks. “Never heard of it.”

“No, I mean, my name. It’s y/n. As for where I’m from…” you purse your lips. “It's actually far from here. But I still don't know how I ended up in Your Highness’ room.”

“Why are you telling us this?”

“Telling you what?”

“About this certain maid attempting to kill me.”

“Anything to get me out of these ropes and make you trust me, I guess…?” you sighed. “I'm just a commoner. I'm not a threat. I'm not an enemy.”

It feels like you’ve been telling him this for the nth time now. They're so tough to crack, is this what interrogation in a police station is like?

“She looks sincere to me.” YES, CHILDE, TELL HIM!! “And… tired.”

“Take her to the room on the west wing, then.”

Your ears perked. “I’m free?”

Scaramouche didn't give you an answer. Childe removed the ropes around you and you left the prince’s room to take you to your ‘new room’. That's what you want right now, to be honest.

To have a good sleep and rest. Your mind is too tired to think about what's happened, happening, and will happen. Thankfully, Childe didn't ask you anything as he led you to your room. He only bid you goodnight and closed the door, leaving you alone.

You didn't bother looking around as you dive right into the fluffy queen-sized bed and close your eyes.

I hope I'll wake up in my room tomorrow…

—

Two weeks after you transmigrated in your favorite novel, you realized that keeping the Crown Prince’s safety is not an easy task because keeping him away from his enemies means exposing yourself in danger, too.

You already give up hoping to wake up back in your room in the real world after a week. You did try finding clues on how you’ll do it, but you were left blank. So instead of moping, you decided to focus on surviving and save the crown prince from losing his head and his throne.

You already prevented three. The first one is the poisoning that you mentioned on your first day, the second one is an ambush attempt on his way from a grand ball, and the last one is another ambush attempt by an unknown baron that apparently hates the Crown Prince.

You almost wonder what kind of life Scaramouche had in his past life to have people going after his head in this life. Was he a famous mercenary? A tyrant king? A very notorious bandit?

“So this is why the hallways are quiet.” you jump when you hear Scaramouche’s voice behind you.

Speak of the devil.

You're currently in the garden, admiring the flowers and… thinking about your situation and the events that will unfold in the next few days— plans, or whatever to keep Scaramouche from death. You could say that this is one of your peaceful and free time because you’ve been working nonstop monitoring this stubborn prince.

You grinned at him and gave him a curtsy. “Good morning, Your Highness.”

“What were you thinking?”

Getting straight to the point, are we?

“Uh… the flowers?” Okay, that was a dumb answer. But how are you going to answer a question as straight as that?

“I’m thinking about the upcoming chapters where more nobles will attempt to kill you, sir.”

Yeah, right y/n. You are not going to tell him that.

Scaramouche already thinks you're some kind of "foreseer" because you know way too much. You tried telling him the truth once— that you aren't from this world and that his entire life is just a story to you— but he just looked at you like you’d completely lost your mind.

“Are you… okay?” he asked.

You ignored him for two days after that.

“What's going to happen next?” he sits on the bench beside you.

He's asking about the next unfortunate event that will happen to him.

He’s long given up asking where you came from, and why you have the “ability to predict the future”. Instead, he told you to tell him everything that you know.

His enemies, spies, traitors, and anyone who’s after his life and their ways of ending it.

And because you don't want anything to happen to your beloved favorite character, you told him you’d protect him— not by jumping in front of a bullet (let's be real), but by staying one step ahead of the plot. You're the only one who truly gets him and the only one who can keep him away from those greedy councils and backstabbing servants.

You cannot tell him everything that you know, but with this, at least he’ll be safe.

“I believe I asked you a question,” you snap back to reality when you hear his voice.

“Sorry, what was that again?”

“Duke Pantalone,” his voice is low and quiet, but enough for you to hear. “Is he really after the throne?”

You purse your lips and slowly nod your head.

“He's going to send you an invitation. It's best if you just ignore it.”

“Why?” you can feel his gaze on you but you remain staring at your feet. “If I accept it, what is going to happen?”

You remember the scene where the Duke invited the crown prince for a dinner in his mansion. It was supposed to be a normal dinner given that the Duke was a close friend of the late Queen Ei— Scaramouche’s mother.

But…

“Ugh…” just thinking about it is making you feel sick. That damn duke and his stupid schemes!

“It's not going to end well.” he said, almost whispering.

It’s not a question. But the way he said it, it sounds like he's really used to this.

“Don't worry, as long as I'm here, none of those rascals will lay their dirty hands on you!” you tried to give him your bestest and cheerful smile as you looked at him.

“With that small and fragile body of yours?” he snickered.

“Mind you, this small and fragile body of mine has already saved your life thrice, Your Highness.”

“Hmph.” Scaramouche stands up. “I'm going to accept the invitation.”

Hah?

“Um.. did you miss the part where I said just ignore it?” Seriously, what is he thinking?!

“What, you’re going to be there with me anyway.”

He didn't wait for you to say anything. You can only watch his back until he disappears in the shadows.

You close your eyes and take a deep, deep breath to calm yourself.

I want to go home.

—

Meeting the final villain is not, and will never be, on your to-do list while you're on vacation inside your favorite novel.

Well, the Crown Prince Scaramouche and Duke Pantalone are bound to meet someday because the latter used to be the former’s mother’s close friend, but this? Knowing that what's happening right now is a trap? What in the world is the Crown Prince thinking?!

“It's been three days since I sent the invitation, I thought I would never receive a response, Your Highness." the man in front of you said with a smile.

Duke Pantalone. One of Her Majesty the Queen’s trusted friends. But unfortunately, Scaramouche is not his mother, so that one doesn't count.

You can't even look at him straight because his face is pissing you off. Especially that smile— that smile that looks gentle but it’s actually full of malice when you look at it carefully.

“I was too busy so I don't have time to write you back,” Scaramouche’s hand made its way to your waist and he pulled you closer to him.

You were surprised at the sudden gesture, but you quickly composed yourself and gave the Duke your fakest smile. He briefly glanced at Scaramouche's hand on your waist before looking at you.

“Pardon me for asking, but who might this beautiful woman be?”

You tried your best to prevent yourself from rolling your eyes in disgust.

Just bear with it for an hour or two, y/n….

You moved away from Scaramouche and gave the Duke a curtsy. “Good evening, Your Grace The Dude—”

Dude?

DUDE?

You wanted to laugh at the mispronunciation but you forgot that you’re in front of a high ranking noble so you composed yourself. Imagine calling a Duke, “dude” like you’ve been friends since you were three? Oh boy you wanted to roll on the ground and laugh your ass off.

But since that’s impossible, you maintain your poker face because you might get punished or killed for the disrespect you just did. But who cares? You hate this man anyway.

You cleared your throat and gave him a bow. “...Your Grace The Duke.”

After a few greetings and embarrassment, you made your way to the dining hall. You sat beside Scaramouche while the Duke is on the farthest left of the long table.

The dinner is going well— smooth, even, because servants keep coming and putting whatever dishes the Duke had told them to serve. Mind you, there were only three of you and yet the big and long table is already full of plates.

You actually know what all of these are, and thankfully, they're not poisoned.

So the only thing that you need to watch out for the most is…..

“You. Bring the wine.” Duke Pantalone ordered the maid in-waiting. She immediately bowed her head and left in a hurry.

There it is. The famous wine.

“I didn't know you're such a drinker, Duke Pantalone.” Scaramouche said.

“It's like a routine every time I eat, Your Highness.” he answered with a laugh. The maid arrived with a bottle of wine and three wine glasses. She puts each in front of you and opens the bottle before pouring them. “Actually, this is why I invited you here. I wanted you to try this new wine I got from Fontaine. I heard this is limited so I didn't waste any chance to grab and try one myself.”

Liar. That wine is actually harvested from a poisonous fruit.

You stole a glance at the person sitting comfortably beside you. He's just watching the red liquid from the glass with an unreadable expression on his face.

You can feel Duke Pantalone's eyes watching him through the wineglass on his mouth, waiting for Scaramouche to drink it.

He’s so obvious it's so funny. Surely, the Crown Prince knew what he was planning, right??

“It doesn't look like it was made from grapes,” he said, earning a smile from you. “What's in it?”

Yes, keep asking him! And don't even try touching that glass and drink it!

However, the Duke wasn't even fazed at the sudden question.

“Oh, the usual, Your Highness,” Duke Pantalone said. “Fermented berries.”

Berries? Is that even possible?

“I see…” Scaramouche raised his hand to grab the wineglass and your mind started panicking.

No, no, no, don't just say, “I see” and take the glass! Put that down, sir! I said, put the glass down!!!

Not knowing what to do next, you quickly grab the glass from his hand and drink the wine in one go.

The two men inside the hall just watched you, both eyes wide open. Duke Pantalone was looking at you like you’d lost your mind, while Scaramouche… Well, he looks… upset.

You’ll ponder about that one later. For now, your priority is to keep Scaramouche safe and stop the evil Duke from his evil plans.

Ugh… Gross… Berries, my ass. It tastes like rotten mango!

You slammed the glass back at the table. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and give them a small smile. “That was… uh… a good wine.. Very flavorful..."

And then it hits you.

You put your hand on your chest and start gasping for air. It feels like your lungs are being squeezed and you closed your eyes, grabbing Scaramouche’s arm.

“You idiot, what the fuck were you doing?!” he grabs your arm and pulls you to him. His other hand made its way to your cheek and started checking you. “Don't you even dare close your eyes, y/n.”

You tried speaking but you can't even move your mouth. Your body’s starting to get numb too, but despite all of this, you still tried to speak and give him a smile.

“You’re… safe…”

And then you passed out.

—

When your eyes fluttered open, the first thing you noticed wasn't the ceiling of your old bedroom, nor the ceiling of your bedroom in the palace. The second thing is the familiar chandelier hanging, and lastly, the sweet and overwhelming scent of glaze lilies and incense filling the dark room.

You're in Scaramouche's room.

What happened…?

“Finally awake?”

You heard a sharp voice coming from beside you, so you weakly turned your head to find Scaramouche standing near the edge of the bed. He looked like an absolute wreck. His royal coat was tossed carelessly over a chair, his collar was unbuttoned, and his dark indigo hair was messy— as if he’d spent the last several hours violently running his fingers through it.

“Your Highness…?” you coughed at the dryness of your throat. “What happened? Did we… Are you okay?”

“Am I okay?” he repeated with a scoff. “You were the one barely hanging between life and death and you're really asking me if I'm okay?”

You pulled the blanket up to your nose to shield yourself from his glare. Geez… this is kind of weird but it felt nice seeing his usual grumpy side…

“What about you? Are you okay? Why the hell did you drink that goddamn wine knowing that it was poisoned?” he asked, voice still cold. You couldn't bring yourself to say something because it looks like you're in for a grand scolding so you continue looking at him, blanket still covering half of your face. “I knew exactly what was in that glass, you know? I just had to make sure that's why I confirmed what was in it. I was going to fake a seizure, draw out his hidden guards, and execute him for high treason on the spot.”

Oh.

“And what did you do? You stole the glass and drank the wine so now you were unconscious for almost a week because of your stupidity. You completely ruined my plan.” He took a deep breath to calm himself.

“...You should've at least told me about that plan…” you mumbled. I was actually losing my mind there, you know?! I thought you were really about to drink it!

“You said something?”

You shake your head. “So… uh.. I messed up the— your plan?”

“Miserably.”

“Well.. I’m sor—”

Scaramouche slammed his hand onto the mattress next to your head, making you flinch.

He leaned in, close enough you can feel his breath.

"What were you doing? What do you gain from throwing your life away for me? Is this some elaborate play to make me indebted to you? To make me trust you?” he asked.

You blinked when you heard his voice shaking, so you slowly looked down at his hand. He's gripping the sheets so tight his knuckles are turning white. Despite the harsh words and questions he’s throwing at you, you could see that his hands were also trembling.

Is he… scared?

You let out a sigh before looking up at him.

“I told you before, right? As long as I'm here, none of those rascals will lay their dirty hands on you.” You gave him a tired smile and lowered the blanket. “I don't know if I already told you this, but I made it my mission to keep you from whatever danger that's lurking around you. I wanted to keep you safe, but I guess I failed at doing it quietly.”

He scoffed, shifting his position so he’s now sitting beside you. “Yeah right you did. Idiot.”

You rolled your eyes, but you’re still smiling. You put your hand on your chest. “Anything for you, Your Highness.”

He stared at you. “But seriously, how are you feeling?”

“Weak…?” you tried raising your arms but you failed. “Limp like a vegetable, as you can see. What happened, by the way?”

“The wine was infused with wolfsbane, that's why you immediately passed out after drinking it.” he said. “It's a deadly poison, and with the amount you ingested, it's a miracle you're still alive.”

Scaramouche reaches out and removes the strands of hair from your cheek. His hand is cold, but his touch is gentle.

“From now on, you are not allowed to leave my sight. If you plan to be this stupid again, make sure it’s where I can see you so I can keep an eye on you. I can't have you jumping into death again before I could even stop you. No more protecting me, I can handle myself. Am I understood?”

“Loud and clear…” you reluctantly answered.

He smiled. This might be the first time that you've seen him smile genuinely. It looks.. nice. “Good.”

He retracted his hand and stood up.

“Wait, are you perhaps worried about me?” you grinned at him, wiggling your eyebrows.

Scaramouche drops his smile at your stupid question.

“The Duke is currently rotting in the deepest cell of the dungeons, if you're wondering.” he dodged your question that earned a chuckle from you. He grabs his coat and looks down at you again. “Don't do stupid things again, do you hear me?”

“So you're worried!”

He ignores you again. “All you have to do is focus on recovering. You're not allowed to leave this room until you're fully-recovered, and until I tell you so. Just call a maid, or Ajax if you need anything."

“But I can't—”

“That's an order.”

Just like before, he didn't give you a chance to speak and left the room. You continue staring at the huge door before grinning like a kid. You turn your gaze at the dark ceiling and start gathering your thoughts.

The assassination attempts failed. The villain is in the dungeon and currently facing trials before his execution. You almost died but at least you managed to keep the Crown Prince safe until the end.

Scaramouche wasn't poisoned. His body wasn't burned.

Yes, that was the tragic fate that awaits him. The Duke plans to poison him first to make him lose consciousness, and after that, he plans to burn his body to leave no traces of evidence, and to erase the Crown Prince’s existence entirely. That's how cruel he is— the Smiling Villain who’s been eyeing the throne ever since Her Majesty The Queen is still alive.

But now… everything has changed. His plan is ruined. And he’s now facing charges for attempting to overthrow the monarchy to ascend the throne.

The plot of the novel was officially broken. You changed the ending.

No more protecting the Crown Prince. No more saving your favorite character. Although he hinted that it's his turn to protect you from now on…

You forced yourself to sit up and look at the huge window. When a ray of sunlight hits your face, you smile.

Oh well. All is well.

Mission failed successfully... I guess?

• yearner!wanderer who orbits you like the moon does it's universe. on a walk through avidya forest? he's coincidentally laying on a tree branch down the path. shopping through sumeru’s markets? he's coincidentally there too, and "i suppose i can help you carry stuff, it's almost pitiful how much you're struggling." (you weren't struggling. at all)

• yearner!wanderer who always wants to be at your side. even when he's drained from being around people, he finds himself still wishing to be in your presence. you ground him, even if you don't seem to realize it.

• yearner!wanderer who no matter how much he tries to stop it, always feels his gaze linger in your direction. whether it be a quick glance to make sure you're alright, or a dazed, longing stare he can't help, his eyes will always find you in a crowd.

• yearner!wanderer who always has "leftovers" for you if you haven't eaten. always has "a spare water bottle for idiots who forget to bring one" (it's just for you) whenever you're in the desert. and always let's you under his hat if it suddenly rains. if he quickly looks away when you move closer? he's simply watching the rain to see when it'll pass.. obviously…

• yearner!wanderer who remembers everything you say, even if it's pointless rambles. and always has to bite back the stupidly soft smile that threatens to show on his face when you light up at him mentioning something from a prior conversation. everything you say he finds himself thinking back on when you're away, over and over, your voice echoing in his mind..

• yearner!wanderer who finds himself indulging in things his past self never would've imagined himself doing, just as an excuse to be around you more often. trying out your hobbies to see it from your perspective (even if it's bad at first) and see why you like it so much. exploring your favourite places at multiple times of day. buying things that remind him of you and leaving them at your door unnamed. who knew he'd be so uncharacteristic, the things you do to him..

• yearner!wanderer who if you're something naturally physically affectionate, always finds himself touching where your hands were, lingering on the momentary touch. and if you're not, you'll always find him touching. not obviously nor directly, but most times a simple brush of hands as he passes you.

• yearner!wanderer who believes he is unworthy of your love, and is too scared to risk losing you, so instead of words, he'll admire and care for you from afar.

• yearner!wanderer who writes down all the words he'd never dare say to your face, only to bashfully throw the papers into fire moments after.

ALBUM TWO. venti.

" to be beloved of the anemo archon ,

is to be cherished by wind and wine . "

• yearner!venti who adores you like birds admire the sky. he always finds a way to be in your general presence, even if you don't speak, he'll be in the corner of your eye. whether it be he’s performing a song, drinking with others, or something else entirely, it's always around you.

• yearner!venti who finds his usual way with words leave him whenever you two are alone. while not stuttering, he ends up stopping halfway through sentences, pausing before opening his mouth at moments, and 'accidentally' messing up lines of poetry, as if he's distracted. too distracted trying to engrave the image of you talking to him and the sound of your voice into his mind that it can't help but turn off for a few seconds. he always recovers with a wink and smile, but those unspoken moments seem to linger.

• yearner!venti who knows your routine and habits almost as familiarly as he knows the breezes of mondstadt. he'll stop by good hunter at the times you're favourite meals are on special. if he catches you at angel’s share he'll always offer you a drink. any and every favourite song of yours is something his lyre plays at least once a day. he had your favourites memorized before he ever consciously realized it.

• yearner!venti who's known for smiling often enough people don't question how his smile will widen at the mention of your name, how it grows playful and determined once a mutual friend tells him something about you, and how it softens when he's alone playing a melody he made, he hopes the wind brings to your ears.

• yearner!venti who loves to playfully tease you, but always at his expense not yours. "oh be still my fragile heart, how can a bard such as myself possibly even imagine capturing your radiance with mere words?" "i am but a humble bard, where ever may my beloved warrior and muse be.."

• yearner!venti who's always protecting you, even when he himself isn't there. the wind has always been responsive to those who call upon it, but especially you. it makes sure you don't trip, pushes back enemies before you can even begin to run, and guides you whenever you ask. at this point, the people of mondstadt have started to suspect you have some sort of.. secret anemo vision, or elemental authority, all due to the way the wind always answers.

• yearner!venti who mirrors you without even seeming to notice. you tilt your head when confused? well now he does too. you lean in when speaking? well now he does too. it's not just with posture too. he loves you, and by extension, everything you do. he sees the care in your eyes whenever you hold something precious to you (such as the cecilia flowers he gave), and can't help but end up adoring whatever it is you adore as well.

• yearner!venti who fixes his appearance whenever you enter a room. adjusting his hat, twirling his hair, sitting up more gracefully. and when you notice a difference in his appearance, whether it be a different bow or new accessory, he smiles like he's won something finer than the richest wine. he either adds or removes an accessory every week, checking what you do notice and what you don't, then mentally notes it down.

• yearner!venti who constantly offers to take you on adventures with him. and it's a 'coincidence' that you always return back in mondstadt city holding flowers, apples, and the scent of dandelion wine..

• yearner!venti who makes music about you as easily as he breathes. sometimes in the language of ancient mondstadt, and so he has you listening and adoring songs about your future together without you even realizing. about how much brighter his laughter feels if you're the cause, about how much lighter he moves if it's beside you, and about whisking you away with the wind..

however, the truth always finds a way out, one way or another. and of course it's the day you're struggling.

it's hot out, one of those days that rival someone’s first time being in the desert. and your tape is being particularly stressful. your boyfriend is out early today with nahida, having left you to wake up with a simple, "I won't be long."

you don't mind if he goes out, especially if it's per the dendro archon’s request. but as your sweaty hands peel the tape and it crumples yet again, you could admit, help would've been nice. not that he knows you do this though — he doesn't.

at least to your knowledge.

you don't try flatten your chest every day. sometimes, being a woman doesn't bother you at all. in fact, you smile when you accomplish something a "woman can't do." still, the fact it's said to you at all gets.. tiring.

so every now and then, like a magician would from a stage, you wish they'd simply.. disappear! and tape is the quickest and easiest option you have.

the sun burns throughout the room, and the tape just.. isn't sticking well. it's frustrating, but better than feeling dysphoric all day. "come on, come on.." you plead to no one in particular, finally managing to place the first pieces.

"would you like some help?"

you practically jump, closing your eyes. if it was any other voice, you would've probably thrown the tape, but you could recognize his quicker than you could your own name.

gripping the tape, you hide it behind your back as you turn to him. "you're home early.."

"it can't be ‘early’ if i never gave you the time I'd come home, it was just.. earlier than you seemed to expect," wanderer remarks coyly, crossing his arms up and down. it's not that he's judging, moreso.. analyzing. his eyes drift to the sides of your chest, then your hands, then the sweat covered tape.

he sighs, especially as you avert your eyes. but before he can speak— "are you mad at me?"

that almost makes him scoff, but instead he simply walks up to you. "why would i be?" he asks simply. that makes you pause. he waits.

"i hid it from you," you land on. that's true, you did hide it. that's a reason to be mad, right? of course. you didn't want to, it's just.. not an easy subject to bring up. 'oh hey yeah i actually sometimes wear tape to push these lumps on my chest away because it annoys me enough to not feel comfortable but not all the time and—' ..yeah. as you brace yourself, he suddenly grabs the tape.

"i hid my past from you for years, your point?" at your blank expression, he rolls his eyes. "look. does this make you happy?" that's what he's asking..?

you nod. and so then he begins rolling it out and retrieves sharper scissors. "good. that's what i care about. i want you to be happy." he looks away as you smile, your heart beating quicker. "or something i guess.." he mutters.

"you’re really not—?" "i’ll love you no matter what, you're mine. so shut up and come get me whenever you do this again, we've got places to be," he interrupts, all without meeting your gaze as he begins to wrap your chest, his hands not sweaty which makes it a lot easier. his hands move with both skill and grace you can't help but envy at times.

relief comes at his words. and so as you lift your arms, you can't help but feel more at ease. wanderer always feels like rain carried by a breeze, both steadying and soothing. you're sure he doesn't even realize just how much comfort he brings you, but you always do your best to show it. and he loves you for that.

"are you.. flustered, wanderer?"

you've always been so, so stubborn. and yet that's something he can't help but love you for. you anchor him when he feels like he's drifting, and so he promises to do the same. even if it's with the little things, like helping you feel more comfortable by fixing tape.

"..whatever."

he handles you with care, until it's tight and comfortable, his touch featherlight over your skin when he isn't sticking the tape. after a few minutes he looks at you, tilting his head like a curious cat, which makes you smile and nod. "you’re good at this.."

"obviously, it isn't that hard to grasp," he replies flatly, finishing up, though his eyes do look away for a moment.

once he's done, you take in a deep breath. it's exactly how you like it, out of the way. it's done perfectly, with such obvious thoughtfulness. and after you dress, he extends a hand. "tell me these things, yeah? it's inconvenient for you to be using the tape with your mortal ability to sweat when i can do it."

you take his hand with practiced ease, understanding the meaning behind the words, let me help you. he's adorable, truly.

he pauses at the way you're looking at him, then scoffs. "stop staring," he says, though it sounds more like a plea rather than demand.

he shakes his head, and then places his hat on your head before pushing the front down to cover your eyes. and then softly smiles at your chuckle. "come on, we have more things to do today," he says, taking your hand as you push the hat up and follow.

"thank you, wanderer."

"anytime."

and if the next morning there's rounded tape and different binders on your beside table as wanderer sleeps beside you? don't ask him.. must've been the wind.