A knock sounded at the suite door.
"Enter," Rosalyne said.
The door opened, and Anastasia, one of the Fatui attendants, stepped in and bowed.
"Lady Signora, this is the account you requested. According to your orders, I deducted the funds required for the entire division to return to Snezhnaya. The remaining operational budget has been transferred in full."
She offered a sealed folder respectfully.
"In total—23.5 million Mora."
Anastasia couldn't make sense of any of this.
Two days ago, Lady Signora was still standing in front of Acting Grand Master Jean, pressuring to seize control of Mondstadt's military defense under the pretext of the dragon crisis.
Yet this morning, Signora ordered all personnel under her command to withdraw from Mondstadt entirely.
Orders from the Harbingers were law. Anastasia didn't question.
But what she couldn't understand… was why Signora had taken every last coin of their operational funds and deposited it into a newly created account under the name Su Xuan.
Even the banking paperwork was fresh.
Anastasia sneaked a glance toward the man sitting beside Rosalyne—
And instantly reddened beneath her mask.
She had seen many men in her life.
But none who could make a woman blush just by existing.
Suddenly, a realization struck her:
Oh no… the infamous flame witch is in love.
…No wonder. Only a man like this could match Lady Signora.
"Good. Inform everyone to be ready. We depart for Snezhnaya today." Rosalyne spoke as though nothing about her life had changed.
"Yes, my lady."
Anastasia bowed, stole another final glance at Su Xuan, and slipped out.
Rosalyne, of course, knew exactly why her subordinates doubted the sudden withdrawal.
But she didn't care.
After last night—after that—she finally understood.
Lisa, Jean, Eula… women holding the same diary had already crossed that final threshold.
In such circumstances, it was better to avoid unnecessary complications.
No fighting. No territorial disputes. No "dragon kings drowning in their own temple."
As for whatever schemes the other Harbingers were plotting?
That had ceased to be her problem.
She turned, crossed her long, pale legs, leaned back with that familiar arrogant poise, and pushed the account into Su Xuan's hand.
"This is it. A universal banking pass—works across all of Teyvat. This is all that remains. If you're unsatisfied… I can't help that."
She said it with her usual pride, chin lifted.
But her tone… was no longer defensive.
Su Xuan accepted it, expression calm.
"Very thoughtful. Good."
The so-called trade of the Gnosis had always merely been an excuse.
The amount of Mora didn't matter.
What mattered was the gesture.
Rosalyne offering everything she had in Mondstadt meant she had understood.
"Well then, I should get going."
Su Xuan stood, dusted his coat.
"I look forward to our next meeting, Lady Rosalyne."
"Leaving already?" she blinked, caught off guard.
He paused at the door, looked back, and smiled like a fox:
"Why? Want one more round before I go?"
Rosalyne's breath caught. A faint scarlet rose along her cheekbones.
She flicked her wrist dismissively with forced elegance.
"Hmph. Only because we are pressed for time. Were I not preparing to depart, I would have made sure you remember my strength."
"Next time—do be prepared. I'll roast you dry."
Su Xuan stared.
…Women really did adapt fast.
Had he been the one led into her trap—or the other way around?
He waved lazily.
"Sure. Next time, I hope your long legs' only talent won't be spinning circles."
Rosalyne: "…"
After he left, she rushed to the window—watching his back as he disappeared into the lantern-lit street.
Only when he completely vanished did she allow her body to tremble, breath fluttering, heat washing over her face.
"Hah… haha… what kind of miraculous being have I entangled myself with…"
Power surged in her veins—stronger than before.
Breaking the boundary between heart and flame—and something deeper.
She inhaled, sharp and excited.
"...I wonder if Her Majesty the Tsaritsa also holds a diary copy."
"Or Arlecchino. Or Columbina…"
Their faces flickered through her mind.
Suddenly—her gentle smile twisted into something dangerous.
"Scaramouche…"
Her voice dropped to a whisper dripping with flame.
"Just wait. I'll find an opportunity…"
"And I'll burn you to ash myself."
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