At the dining table, Furina waited a short while before Fidelle, dressed in her chef's uniform, arrived with a covered dish.
Lifting the lid, she revealed a beautifully sculpted green swan at the center of the plate, carved from bitter melon. Several slices of bitter melon were arranged around the edges.
Furina stared at the translucent, emerald-green slices in the dish, her brow furrowing into a knot as if facing a monstrous beast.
She had just concluded a mentally and emotionally draining public performance, and the lingering sensation of portraying the "Joyful Hydro Archon" churned in her stomach, making her desperate to escape everything.
"Lady Furina, just try a small slice?" Fidelle coaxed gently, pushing the plate forward slightly.
Her slender fingers bore faint red marks from minor burns—evidence of her relentless experimentation with over a dozen recipes, all in pursuit of taming the bitter melon's overpowering astringency.
-
Inside the chamber.
Escoffier remembered this scene vividly. Back then, Fidelle was still her apprentice. When she learned that eating bitter melon was good for her health, she naively tried to make the bitter melon sweet.
Hmm... According to Fidelle at the time, this sweetness couldn't be achieved by simply adding sugar. It had to be the kind of sweetness that left one feeling utterly satisfied.
So, all her diligent efforts in learning culinary arts were solely for Furina's sake? Was it because she was cooking for Furina that her skills progressed so rapidly, to the point that even my most flattering praise couldn't catch up later...?
Fidelle, you truly outdid yourself!
-
Inside the Palais Mermonia dining hall, Furina pursed her lips and reluctantly speared the smallest slice of bitter melon under Fidelle's expectant gaze.
The moment the slice touched her tongue, the anticipated bitterness failed to materialize. Instead, a marvelous, subtly sweet aftertaste bloomed, deftly enveloping the melon's inherent bitterness while retaining its crisp, juicy texture.
Furina's eyes widened in astonishment. She instinctively speared another slice.
Fidelle's tense shoulders instantly relaxed, her lips curving into a smile sweeter than any dessert as she discreetly tucked away her burned fingers.
Watching Furina's rare, proactive reach for vegetables, the delicate sound of her chewing felt like a tiny candy melting away the icy fatigue that had accumulated in her heart.
This seemingly insignificant "victory" was the "sweet" seed Fidelle had planted in Furina's bitter Throne.
-
The scene shifted again, this time to a familiar setting: Furina's study.
Late at night, buried behind a mountain of documents, Furina curled up in her oversized chair, her shoulders trembling slightly.
A sudden diplomatic crisis had drained her completely. The perfect mask she wore had cracked, revealing the fragile, crushed vulnerability beneath the weight of pressure.
She bit her lip fiercely, suppressing the sobs threatening to spill out.
Fidelle silently approached Furina from behind, offering no questions or words of comfort.
Instead, she gently placed a steaming cup of fragrant milk tea beside Furina's hand.
A small note lay pressed against the bottom of the cup, bearing a crookedly drawn little flower, straining to bloom.
Furina didn't look up, but the trembling in her shoulders gradually subsided.
She reached out, her icy fingertips brushing against the warm ceramic. The warmth spread from her fingertips, thawing her frozen heart.
Lifting the cup, she inhaled deeply, drawing strength from its sweet, comforting aroma.
Fidelle retreated quietly into the shadows in the corner, a silent, steadfast lighthouse.
The only sounds in the room were Furina's soft sips of milk tea and the tranquil moonlight filtering through the window.
Slowly, Furina finished the tea, then slumped onto the desk and fell asleep.
Fidelle approached quietly, draping a thick cloak over her shoulders. Gathering the scattered documents from the desk, she began reviewing them meticulously.
Fidelle's unspoken understanding and silent companionship proved far more potent than any words of comfort. In the boundless sea of her performance, she offered Furina a sheltered harbor for brief respite, a place to mend her fractured facade.
It was a reminder that no matter how fierce the storm raged outside, a light would always burn for her.
-
The screen went black again, this time showing Furina's chambers.
After a grand celebration, Furina returned to her chambers, nearly collapsing from exhaustion.
The heavy, ornate gown weighed her down, and the polite smile she had maintained all evening had long since frozen into a numb mask.
Rubbing her temples wearily, she felt as if her very soul had been drained away.
Fidelle expertly removed the heavy crown, her movements as gentle as if handling a fragile treasure.
When a cool, damp cloth was gently pressed against Furina's cheeks, sore from hours of forced smiling, she sighed in relief.
"You must be exhausted," Fidelle murmured softly, her fingers kneading Furina's tense temples with just the right amount of pressure. "Lady Furina, your speech today was magnificent, but... next time, you don't have to force yourself to smile until the very end."
Furina froze slightly, taken aback.
Everyone else saw only the dazzling brilliance of the Hydro Archon, but Fidelle saw the utter exhaustion Furina hid beneath her divine robes.
She cared not whether the god's dignity remained flawless, but whether the person herself was truly okay.
Furina relaxed her body, leaning back into Fidelle's embrace, closing her eyes, and letting that warm presence envelop her.
"Mmm... I'll listen to you next time," she murmured, her voice carrying the languor of one who had finally laid down a heavy burden.
In that moment, she was no longer Focalors, the Hydro Archon of Fontaine. She was simply Furina, an ordinary person being carefully cherished, allowed a brief moment of vulnerability.
Well, she was always an ordinary person, forced by the Prophecy to walk the path of playing the role of a god.
Fidelle's very presence reminded Furina, again and again, that:
Furina herself, as Furina, was far more worthy of being cherished and cared for than that flawless Phantom of the Joyful Hydro Archon.
-
The screen fell into a prolonged silence. Many watching now understood: Fidelle had likely discerned the true nature of Lady Furina's performance from subtle cues long ago.
The Knave sat in the audience, her hands clasped together on her lap.
She had uncrossed her legs the moment she learned of Focalors' plan.
The Knave had always yearned to uncover Furina's hidden secrets, but now that she knew them, she found herself unexpectedly somber. Instead of the anticipated elation, an inexplicable weight pressed down on her heart.
This feeling... it hadn't resurfaced in years.
The last time she felt this way was with Clervie...
Fidelle, oh Fidelle, she must have known some of Furina's secrets and chosen not to expose them. She understood Furina's character and chose to believe in her!
From the moment Fidelle appeared behind Furina, they had been irrevocably bound together. Wherever Furina went, Fidelle would stand steadfastly behind her.
With a single bite of a small cake, Furina had gained Fidelle, her capable and devoted subordinate.
-
Navia now understood the despair and grief Furina had displayed in Neuvillette's office at the Palais Mermonia.
This wasn't merely the loss of a subordinate or a chef; it was the loss of her only safe haven—the one place where she could briefly shed the heavy burden of her divine role and simply be human.
Through their long companionship, their relationship had grown beyond mere superior and subordinate.
-
Scene 182378:
This scene depicted Furina, Lumine, Paimon, and Chu Xi hiding together in a box before Furina's trial.
The difference was that here, Furina answered Lumine's question, not by revealing her secrets, but by simply assuring them that everything would be alright.
She was Furina, and she wouldn't say a word.
After all these years, wouldn't revealing her secret now render all her efforts meaningless?
Besides, she still had Fidelle. Everyone would agree that she'd rather share such things with Fidelle than with Lumine.
The scene faded to black once more, returning them to the execution grounds.
Neuvillette and Focalors stood facing each other.