"I've been ready for a long time," Istaroth said softly. "Why else do you think I keep coming to you? Don't tell me… you still haven't figured out my heart?"
She burrowed into Rowan's arms, hands clasped tight behind his back. Rowan's body went stiff, caught completely off guard.
He talked big—about founding a harem in Teyvat and all that—but in truth he was a kitchen-knife novice at love. In his past life he'd barely even held a girl's hand—maybe during that one high-school military drill game, and that was it. The reason he seemed so relaxed teasing Istaroth before was pure acting. If she'd stayed a minute longer, she would've heard how hard his heart was thundering.
As it was now, his heart thumped so loudly Istaroth could hear it. She blinked up at him, puzzled.
"Why is your heart racing so fast? And your face—why is it so red? Don't tell me… this is your first time being confessed to like this?"
She stared at the blush on his cheeks as if she'd discovered a new continent, eyes curved in a mischievous smile, trying to read everything on his face.
But Rowan wasn't someone who would just fold. Since she'd said it this far, he couldn't keep shrinking back like some timid boy.
He pushed Istaroth gently onto the bed and leaned over her. Under his intent gaze, she turned crimson and averted her eyes.
"W-What are you doing?" she stammered, suddenly far less bold than moments earlier.
"Mmph—"
After a long bout of lip-locked sparring, Rowan slowly let her go, a small smile at the corner of his lips.
"That's my answer. Satisfied?"
"Mm." Istaroth nodded, voice barely louder than a mosquito.
Rowan didn't press her further. He rose and left the chamber, letting her process things. Judging from how it went, he figured she probably wouldn't leave tonight.
Unexpectedly, she slipped away anyway—not out of anger, but because she'd been flustered. Not long after Rowan left, she returned to Skyfrost Nail and, from the way she'd burst into little giggles now and then, she was anything but upset.
A few days later.
Rowan lounged by Cider Lake, fishing out of sheer idleness. Istaroth hadn't shown up for several days, and he started to wonder if he'd scared her off. Without her trailing behind him like a cheeky little attendant, he felt strangely out of sorts.
Mondstadt's development, however, hadn't slowed at all; it raced along exactly as he'd planned. The recruitment drive for the Knights of Favonius had blown past estimates: in just a few days, six hundred thousand people had signed up. Thankfully, Rowan had "negotiated" a cool hundred-billion mora out of Snezhnaya—otherwise, feeding and drilling that many troops would have bled the coffers dry. Still, this surge was temporary; in three months they'd be trimmed back to a standing force of three hundred thousand.
Meanwhile, the Public Security Bureau was already in full swing. Their headquarters now occupied the former site of the library, while Lisa's collection had been spun out into a dedicated grand library of its own. Rowan intended to classify and distribute books along primary, middle, and advanced curricula. Exam-oriented education had its flaws back home, sure—but for ordinary people, knowledge was capital, the bedrock for a stable life. Especially on a continent where most folks were still illiterate. Normally the Church of Favonius taught the Wind-god's faithful children their letters and basic learning; for lasting progress, teaching Mondstadters to read and master real skills was essential.
Right now the kids of Mondstadt had it too easy—parents didn't watch them, so they roamed all day. Take the pigeon-feeding brat by the city gate. Or Klee. Especially Klee—Jean was buried in paperwork, and Albedo lived in his lab; no one kept an eye on her, so she'd run off to go "fish" with bombs, turning the city upside down. That was why she landed in solitary so often.
When the economy reached cruising altitude, education would be the next gear. Teach children right and wrong, give them clear values, and hand them practical skills so they could stand on their own two feet without clinging to their families. Not free-range chaos—guided growth.
At the same time, the road from Mondstadt's city gate was almost finished. After today, it should be open to traffic. If the results looked good, they'd head straight to Stone Gate to start the border project. The Guerrilla Squad had already arrived ahead of the crews to clear out monsters, so the site wouldn't be a nest of beasts when the workers marched in.
While Rowan was turning over future plans for Mondstadt, the fishing rod in his hand gave a twitch. He tugged—and up came not a fish, but a treasure chest. He didn't even blink, just popped it open.
Inside lay a golden heap of mora—about a million by sight.
"So Golden Rule really is this busted, huh?"
Without a second glance, Rowan swept the mora into the King's Treasure. He'd gotten used to it. Ever since he acquired Golden Rule, money kept appearing in absurd ways—found on the road, hooked while fishing, or sitting inside chests. In four or five days, he'd made no less than ten million mora, and treasure chests never dropped under five hundred thousand.
It was better than highway robbery—more profitable, too. A day in his shoes would make Morax jealous, with Barbatos bawling in envy next door.
(End of Chapter)
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