"Little minx, still trying to tease me?"
"Mada mada ne!"
Watching Istaroth flee like a startled breeze, Rowan snorted in disdain.
Moments earlier, after Istaroth's faux-bashful confession, Rowan had naturally leaned in to respond in kind. He'd barely moved to plant a quick kiss when her face went crimson, she pushed him away, and—whoosh—became a strand of wind and vanished from the room.
With skills like that, she still wanted to tease him?
Truly had too much time on her hands.
The next morning.
Rowan opened his eyes to stabbing sunlight, rubbed them, then sat up warily to scan the room. After confirming no one else was there, he flipped back the covers to get dressed and head out.
Then—
"Ah! Why aren't you wearing clothes again?"
Istaroth's excited voice rang out. Rowan turned. The girl was back. And always, always timing her visits for the exact moment he got out of bed. Had she actually fallen for him?
Rowan sighed.
"Seriously—do you time this on purpose?"
"If I don't get up, you don't show. The second I stand, you appear. I'm starting to think you're doing it on purpose."
Istaroth smiled, cheeks pink, saying nothing—just staring straight at Rowan, paying no mind to his current lack of attire. The shyness in her eyes betrayed her thoughts, though; the corners kept sneaking glances… there.
The way she stared left Rowan feeling oddly self-conscious. Wasn't he supposed to be the one staring at the beauty?
How did the roles flip with Istaroth?
He surrendered, turned away, yanked open the wardrobe, and dressed at speed.
Under Istaroth's audible sigh of disappointment, the Knight-King look of Rowan made its dazzling entrance.
"So why are you here again?"
"You're one of the Four Shadows of Heaven. Don't you have work?"
Fully dressed, Rowan moved to leave. Today he planned to join Venti and resolve Dvalin's problem. Yes, it would preempt the Traveler's Mondstadt storyline—but for the city's development, fixing Dvalin early was necessary.
As for the method? Avalon could handle it in a snap.
Dvalin's issue was Durin's toxic blood—Abyssal corruption. Purge the corruption and it's done. Avalon's "banish all negative states" could manage that in minutes.
So he didn't have time to flirt with Istaroth.
"If I had work, I wouldn't have come down."
"Hehe. I came to play."
"Relax, do what you need to do. I won't get in your way."
The moment Rowan finished dressing, Istaroth slid in behind him, wrapped her arms around his back, and leaned close with a smile.
That intimacy turned Venti—who had just appeared at the window, smiling and ready to greet Rowan—into dead-fish eyes on the spot.
And you said you didn't want to be my father!
Come on!
Seeing Venti, Rowan was speechless.
So that's why she waited to hug him—just to see Venti's reaction?
Was this girl a certain neighboring god of mischief in disguise?
So black-bellied, so fond of spectacle?
"Can you act normal?"
"Let go."
Rowan struggled to pry her off. No luck.
Istaroth's hands clung like glue—no intention of letting go.
Left with no choice, Rowan asked her to release him. She only pouted and played coy.
"Nope. No-o-ope."
"After last night, I can't even hug you?"
"Last night"…?
Watching the syrupy scene and hearing Istaroth's explosive line, Venti's brain went off the rails. Had they already…?
"The Fatui Harbinger is here. Says they want a word."
"When you're done, I'll wait at Windrise. We'll free Dvalin together."
Venti couldn't take it anymore. He tossed out the message, turned into a gust, and disappeared.
Seeing his mom and would-be stepdad this lovey-dovey first thing in the morning—he needed a drink at Angel's Share to calm down.
"No—!"
"Hey, who is it?"
Rowan shouted after him, but Venti didn't even slow down—if anything, he sped up.
Still, the bard had a conscience. Before leaving, he tossed over his Gnosis.
Venti knew full well the Fatui Harbinger had come for one thing: the Gnosis. Handing it to Rowan said it all—he was leaving the decision in Rowan's hands. He no longer cared about any promise to the Tsaritsa. With Rowan here, Mondstadt didn't need him to fret.
Once Venti left, Istaroth dropped the act as well. She let go, smiling without a word, which only left Rowan at a loss. He sighed, turned, and headed out.
Forget it. A gentleman doesn't bicker with a lady.
First see who's come calling.
If it was that Mondstadt woman, there was no way Rowan would hand over the Gnosis. Yes, once upon a time, that woman—La Signora, Rosalyne—and her fiancé Rostam gave everything for Mondstadt, only to be forgotten. That was Mondstadt's fault. But it wasn't a reason to dump her pride and fury on Venti.
In the end, what did it have to do with him? He'd rushed back as fast as he could. If not for his timely return, never mind the Tsaritsa saving Rosalyne—she might've turned to ash on the spot.
Yet she still pontificated, blaming Venti.
Venti felt guilty only because he was kind. Rowan, however, was not so charitable. What Mondstadt owed you was none of his business.
"I didn't expect it to be you."
(End of Chapter)
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