Eula often arrived late in the afternoon, armor traded for lighter clothes once her patrols ended. She didn't bother hiding it—parking her bike closer to Henry, lingering after practice, asking questions she already knew the answers to.
"So," she said one day, wiping sweat from her brow, "are you teaching anyone else today, or am I getting special treatment?"
Henry leaned slightly closer, voice low. "Special treatment? Aren't you my friend, Eula? Just because others are busy today doesn't mean I can't come teach you."
She leaned her bike against his without hesitation.
"Same time tomorrow?" she asked.
Henry nodded. "If you're free."
"I'll make time."
--
By the end of the fourth day, everyone was progressing well.
Alina rode ahead with steady confidence, her posture relaxed, hands loose on the handlebars as she glided across the road. Eula followed not far behind, movements sharp and controlled, treating the bike like a drill exercise she intended to master perfectly. Mona lagged a little farther back, still cautious, but no longer afraid—her turns smoother, her balance holding.
Even Anthony had stopped wobbling.
Henry stood off to the side, arms folded, watching them ride past again and again. Four days ago, all of them had struggled to stay upright. Now, they moved through Mondstadt's streets with growing ease, the strange two-wheeled contraptions no longer looking fragile beneath them.
At first, it had only been glances—double takes, curious stares. By the fourth day, small groups gathered near the road whenever the girls practiced. Children pointed openly. Even knights slowed their patrols as they passed.
"What is that thing?" a man asked, curiosity getting the better of him.
Henry answered as he always did, patiently, without missing a beat.
"A one-person carriage," he explained to the small crowd, resting a hand on the seat of a parked bike. "It makes travel easier—faster than a carriage. I'll be selling them soon."
That was enough to spark murmurs.
"Faster than a carriage?"
"Only one rider?"
"Is it safe?"
Henry took the questions in stride, explaining balance, pedals, maintenance—never rushing, never overselling. If people failed the first time, they would blame the invention. He couldn't allow that.
Anthony's training took place between all of this.
Henry worked him hard.
Gears were taken apart and reassembled. Tires were deflated and reinflated until Anthony could do it blindfolded. Chains came off, went back on. Brakes were adjusted, loosened, tightened again.
"No one here knows bike maintenance," Henry said as Anthony wiped grease from his hands. "That makes you important. Teaching and repairs—both matter."
Anthony nodded seriously, absorbing every word.
By the evening of the fourth day, Henry finally decided it was time.
"We'll inaugurate the shop," he said, clapping his hands once. "Day after tomorrow."
That announcement alone energized everyone.
After the final practice session, Henry waved Anthony and the girls off, promising to see them the next day.
Jean is always cooped up working here, just like she is in game. I want to do something for her, he thought, eyes shifting toward the Knights of Favonius headquarters.
Henry reached the headquarters and made his way through the familiar corridors until he reached her office and stepped inside.
Jean sat hunched over her desk, surrounded by towering stacks of paperwork. Reports, requests, approvals—each one waiting. She didn't look up immediately.
Henry cleared his throat.
Jean startled, quill slipping from her fingers before she looked up. Recognition replaced surprise, and a tired smile spread across her face.
"Henry…?"
He nodded toward the stacks of paperwork crowding her desk. "Wow. Do you handle all of this?"
Jean exhaled, rubbing her temples. "I know. But someone has to—"
"You need more assistants," he said firmly. "If you handle everything yourself, mistakes will happen. Even you have limits."
She hesitated, then nodded slowly. "You're right."
He studied her for a moment before asking, "When was the last time you went out?"
Jean froze.
Henry straightened. "You're coming with me."
Her heart skipped.
Internally, Jean turned bright red, already assuming Henry was inviting her out. She stood abruptly. "I—I'll change. Meet me outside."
Moments later, she stepped out of the headquarters.
Damn. Jean is the definition of a pretty blond girl.
Jean wore a light summer dress—the same one he remembered from the game. Simple, elegant, soft colors that caught the evening light. For a moment, he could only stare.
She noticed.
Jean felt a quiet satisfaction she didn't show, turning shyly and leading him through the city instead.
Henry glanced at her as they walked. "I've been wanting to try Springvale's famous boar dishes. Think we could go?"
Jean looked up, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "Sure. Let's go."
At the city gates, he flagged down a goods transport headed south. They climbed aboard, sitting side by side as Mondstadt faded behind them.
Springvale welcomed them with familiar warmth. Some villagers recognized Henry—the man with the strange wheeled contraption. Whispers followed, curious but friendly.
Jean led him to a modest restaurant nestled between wooden homes.
The Hunter's Hearth.
This is new.
Inside, candlelight flickered across wooden tables. They sat, and Henry waved the menu toward her.
"It's my first time here. You order."
Jean smiled faintly and ordered the village's specialty.
"Springvale Honey-Roasted Boar," Henry murmured, eyes lighting up as he bit into the meat. "Whoa… the juices and honey are flowing into my mouth—it's so tender."
Jean nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips despite having eaten this dish countless times. "Yes, it is delicious.". "Yes, it is delicious."
Henry paused mid-bite, glancing at her.
Orianna… I want to tell her.
[You can. She's the future Acting Grandmaster. Trust matters.]
Henry exhaled, setting his fork down. "I'm not from Teyvat."
Jean froze, her grip tightening on the table. The words took a moment to settle, and then curiosity and surprise flared in her eyes.
Henry continued, choosing his words carefully, breaking down his world and his work as an engineer into simple terms she could grasp, and explaining how he had ended up here.
When he finished, Jean stayed silent for a long moment, processing. "Thank you," she said quietly. "For trusting me."
Encouraged by his openness, Jean began to share in return. Over dinner, she spoke about her family, her younger sister Barbara, the weight of responsibility, and what it meant to lead as the Deputy Grandmaster. Henry listened quietly, absorbing her words as the night deepened around them.
Night had fallen before they realized it. They walked back toward Mondstadt along the winding path from Springvale, the distance long but a welcome workout after a huge meal, talking until the city gates came into view.
Henry glanced at Jean as they reached her residence. "Don't forget about the assistants we talked about. Dividing the work—make sure you don't end up buried in papers again."
Jean gave a small nod. "I'll keep that in mind. I suppose I can't do everything myself."
"Thank you for today, Henry." She paused, lips parting as if to say more, then shook her head lightly.
"Goodnight, Henry." She turned quickly and hurried inside, the door closing behind her a little faster than necessary.
Henry returned to his shop—only to find Alina waiting.
Her smirk was immediate. "Deputy Grandmaster, hm?"
"It wasn't—"
"First Eula, now Jean? My, my"
Henry turned slightly red. "I was just helping her relax!"
Alina laughed, lifting her eyebrow. "I'm sure you did."
"Shut up!"
Henry ducked into his room and closed the door behind him.
[Nice date, Henry.]
"Not you too," he groaned, burying his face into the pillow.
---
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