Chapter Text
Prologue
Her eyes roamed around the ridiculous amount of paperwork on her desk. Grimacing slightly, she spared a glance at the grandfather clock standing still like a guard-on-duty at the corner of her office.
This is going to be a long night. She sighed. She’s been sighing a lot these past few days. Ever since the upheaval in Liyue caused by the Fatui and the consistent revolts in Sumeru—maybe caused by the Fatui as well—she had mounds of complaints, civil suits, and security requests to attend to on a day-to-day basis. No one in the High Court of Fontaine is happy about whatever things are brewing outside their borders.
She stretched her numbing limbs with a satisfied grunt. These cases need to be reviewed and decided on by tonight. She reminded herself. My assistant will kill me tomorrow if I'm late for the audience, she thought. But that's another problem for tomorrow.
She began to twist the protruding pin on the side of her glass lamp to brighten the room further. Though Fontaine was the most industrialized in all of Teyvat, she still hoped that she would get to see a lamp producing light as bright as the sun. Maybe she could pitch funding for that particular work once the mess on her desk has been cleared. Though she couldn't help but wonder...when will it be?
Grabbing the document on top of the pile, she began to read the proceedings of an appeal. This was case no. 100728, a civil dispute post-divorce. She found herself frowning at the contents of the appeal. She has been a magistrate to the Highest Court of Fontaine for nearly 12 years and she still finds herself surprised most of the time by the sheer audacity of some complainants. There are those who think that the law’s interpretation can be changed by a great number of appeals, but the law is absolute. Her Honor, the Hydro Archon, the Supreme Judge, wouldn’t have it any other way.
Who on Teyvat decided on this? She earmarked a few pages of the document while internally cursing the legal adviser who even bothered to make this trash of an appeal. I am going to send them back to law school for these mediocre arguments!
She reached for one of the stamps scattered across the ink pad in her top drawer. Glancing to see if she took the right one, she immediately branded the appeal she was holding as declined—the word bleeding in bright red ink over the paper. Throwing the document nonchalantly into the box on the floor, she proceeded to read the next one. Another appeal, she thought as she perused over the executive summary. This time, it was about lowering the bail amount. Not even bothering to look at the reasons written in the document, she stamped it with another glaring "declined". Bail costs, as per Fontaine's law, are standard after all.
She keeps this up for another hour or so until the grandfather clock chimes to remind her of the time. A pair of tired bluish-green eyes stared at the source of the deep, reverberating tune. She was not the least bit shocked to find that it was already three in the morning. She was halfway done and she knew that in six hours, she will have to sit in another morning court session with the Supreme Judge. She exhaled at the thought.
She had perfect attendance when it comes to court sessions with her Archon. Even when she was sick, as long as she was able to think logically and argue flawlessly, she was present in court. She was the youngest to be appointed to the position of Magistrate. And as the years passed by unnoticed, she was promoted to one of the top three ranks—those closest to the Archon herself. As the Third Magistrate, she was now in charge of Fontaine's economic development plan on top of her usual duties as an appeals court judge.
She sighed once again, this time in defeat. I will not be able to finish the other half. She began sorting through the remaining documents to calm her mind, mentally going into autopilot. The unfinished pile was stacked to one side of her desk, while those that have been stamped with her decision have been relegated to the box at the base of her table. She neatly cleaned and stowed away her stamps and ink pad and was about to close the drawer with her writing paraphernalia when she noticed a pink envelope at the edge of the unfinished heap.
Frowning, she retrieved the envelope and upon seeing the seal on its flap, she groaned. To Cora de Montmercy was written at the center of the back of the envelope and on the top left corner, she saw the name of the sender: Lady Guji Yae.
This is going to be an even longer night.
*****
The blonde traveler glanced up at the head shrine priestess as if she suddenly showed her six fluffy tails. “What?”
Yae Miko chuckled and winked at her drinking companion. “I said what I said. I will not repeat myself, Traveler."
“I heard you correctly once, Lady Yae,” the Traveler replied. “But isn’t this a bit too much? I know you hate Commissioner Kamisato but this extent for a prank—”
“Oh shush,” Miko waved her hand dismissively. “I expected that reaction from your floating friend but not from you. And whoever said this was a prank? Three days ago, at the morning court session, in which Commissioner Kamisato is always conveniently absent, raised the matter of his marriage. The Raiden Shogun was curious as to why he is still unmarried and will probably summon him soon to discuss this prospect.”
The Shrine Priestess relayed the happenings of the weekly court session as if it was common gossip. The Traveler knew that the almost wedding between Kujou Kamaji of the Tenryou Commission and Hiiragi Chisato of the Kanjou Commission did not go amiss with the Raiden Shogun. But for her—aloof, uncaring Ei and the puppet—to suddenly take an interest in Kamisato Ayato's love life (or lack thereof) was undoubtedly the work of the Kitsune.
“So essentially your purpose is to put forward a candidate for his wife,” the traveler said. “And I will act as escort for this candidate as well as a spy?”
The kitsune nodded and then took a sip of sake. “You will be compensated of course. And this is not a taxing mission. In fact, the person you’ll be taking care of is quite independent as well.”
“Who is this person?” The traveler asked. “And would the Commissioner even accept her considering that she is not from Inazuma?”
The priestess glanced at the blonde thoughtfully. “That is a valid question. I would think that Commissioner Kamisato's wife would be unparalleled in beauty, etiquette, talent, and intelligence. The prerequisite of nationality is a given although unspoken. But I assure you, she is Inazuman. At least half of her, anyway."
The traveler raised an eyebrow. "Just half? The Kamisato clan already has a half-Inazuman retainer. A half-Inazuman Lady Kamisato would raise pitchforks from their clan elders."
Miko laughed, mauve eyes gleaming in mischief. "My, my, my. That Yashiro rascal is rubbing off on you. Stop spending time with him, little one." Taking a sip of sake, the kitsune decided to continue her tale. "That aside, I think even the Kamisato elders would find her a suitable candidate. Her mother is from the esteemed Taira clan and once worked as a shrine maiden here. The Taira family has ceased to exist in the male line, unfortunately. This means that my candidate is the last person to have their fabled bloodline."
“Is the Taira clan important to Inazuma?”
Yae Miko smiled, fondness seeping into her eyes. “Yes. If not for the Taira clan, the kitsune bloodline might have perished long ago. Hakushin, our founder, became friends with a mortal named Taira Shizuka. Since then, the Taira clan has aided the kitsune and the yokai alike.”
“If that’s the case then the Taira family may have been one of the subordinate clans of the Kamisato clan? Just like the Kaedehara?
The fox shook her head, golden earrings shaking in the process. “The Taira clan is older—a lot older—than the Kamisato clan. And for one, they’re not really into politics. They are peacekeepers. Even when they are gifted martial artists, they do not kill. It is not in their family’s philosophy to take life and take power. This is the reason why we, yokai, are fond of them. They are one of the few mortal lineages who do not let their self-interests cloud their judgment.
“Sadly, it is exactly that same philosophy that led to their demise. With only one descendant left of their bloodline, I fully intend to have her back in Inazuma. Although I might say she would probably have a difficult time considering she has built her name and reputation in a foreign land. But if there was one person who can help the Yashiro Commission and that rascal rebuild a new Raiden Gokaden, it would be her.”
“Rebuild a new Gokaden—” the blonde muttered. “Oh, I see now! Well, I guess it would be quite a fulfilling task to see Inazuma’s arts flourish again.”