Archive of Our Own

Once upon a time, in a land of magic and myths, there was a large and prosperous kingdom. Its fields were golden with grain, its pastures were lush with grass, and in its orchards the branches bent heavy with fruit. The capital city bustled with travellers of all types: traders in their great vessels bearing wonders from afar, merchants bringing their laden carts through the city gates, bright-eyed youths and dull-eyed drudges alike arriving in search of work.

Yes, it was a prosperous kingdom, for all that its rulers were chosen based on blood rather than ability, and that the moneyed had more mora than could possibly be spent in a lifetime, and that there was poverty and unemployment and homelessness- but the kingdom was wealthy, and only rarely quarrelled with its neighbours, and there was affordable food and clean water, and so the population at large was content.

Presently, the kingdom was abuzz, for its crown prince - their future king! - had announced that he was holding a ball. All the young men and women of the kingdom were invited, or as many as could reach the capital city in time, and had something adequate to wear, and did not have any shifts scheduled that night- because from one of the attendees, the crown prince would choose a spouse! A royal consort, who would have a say in the decision-making and ruling of the kingdom. It was the first time ordinary citizens had been given a chance to participate in the government. They were all very excited about it.

None more excited than the merchants.

"Buy your gown here! The most beautiful ball gowns in the kingdom, guaranteed to catch His Highness's eye!"

"Suits! Fine suits, perfectly tailored to show your best side! Get all your suits here!"

"Stand out from the crowd with our beautiful ribbons! Velvet, silk or satin, all colours! Only 500 mora a yard!"

"Only the finest accessories! Earrings, necklaces, rings, hairpins, scarves, all of the highest quality! All items at half-price, this week only!"

"Half-price, you say," murmured Pantalone. His spectacles glinted. "Hmm..."

Next to him, Signora rolled her eyes. "And if you were to buy two when you needed only one, would it still be a bargain?" She tilted aside her lace parasol, and allowed her eyes to drift over the offerings. "Hmph, nothing in red and black."

"I would simply sell the surplus at a profit," Pantalone countered. He browsed the items as he spoke.

"Such as that time you convinced everyone wearing only one earring was fashionable, collected all the extra earrings, and sold them to those who had none?"

"I do wish you would stop bringing up things I did when I was seven," sniffed Pantalone. "I only made a one hundred percent profit off that venture... Disastrous. Yes, all of these, in boxes."

"Will your servant be fetching your packages later, sir?" asked the stallholder.

"No, he is right-" Pantalone paused. "Where did Childe go? Childe! Ugh, where is he?"

"How should I know?" Signora retrieved a hand fan and delicately fluttered it near her collar. "Hmph, it is too hot today. I distinctly recall requesting some ice cream, but it has yet to arrive."

"Here, I've got it!" Childe rushed up just then, the cone carefully held in one hand. It was a beautiful confection, ice cream in pastel shades shaped to resemble a rose.

"I had to fight off a couple of queue-jumpers," Childe explained cheerfully as he handed it over. "Plus they ran out of pistachio ice cream for the leaves and had to make more. Oh Pantalone, did you buy more things? Give them all to me."

"Do be careful not to drop them. Some of the filigree is quite delicate."

"It would serve you right if your profits were reduced," sniped Signora, but with less bite than usual. She nibbled at her ice cream.

Pantalone, however, twitched. "Isn't eating in public considered unladylike? How typical that the prospect of sweets should cause you to forget your image."

"I had not taken you for an expert on ladies' etiquette. Shall I recommend you to all my friends?"

"Friends? Perchance you are referring to those useful simpletons with whom you surround yourself? Because I do not recall you having any friends-"

"Now, now, when have I ever dropped any of your boxes?" Childe interrupted, still cheerful, if a little strained due to the large number of packages in his hands. "And if anyone tries to tell Signora that she looks unladylike, I'll fight them myself! Shall we go home so you can start sorting all your new stuff? I found a carriage."

Pantalone snorted, but he seemed mollified, at least a little. "I hope you haggled down the price."

"I manage a whole twenty percent off!" Childe led the way to the hired carriage, holding the stack of packages slightly tilted to one side so that he could see where he was going.

"Hrm. Next time, aim for twenty-five." Pantalone doffed his hat and swept into the vehicle.

Childe did not have time to reply, for he had to put away all the packages into the boot at the rear of the carriage, fold Signora's parasol for her, help her inside, arrange a shawl around her ("Hmph, it's too cold today") and last of all, sit up at the front with the driver.

It actually was pretty warm- Not that Childe minded sitting outside! He got to feel the rush of air in his face, and to watch all the people outside as they went about their day. It was definitely busier than usual. Nobody wanted to look bad at the prince's ball.

Signora and Pantalone had already commissioned their clothes. Admittedly, that had been a bit of cunning on Childe's part. Just an offhand comment that the stores were bound to raise prices closer to the ball, and Pantalone immediately had dragged Signora out the door while she had shrieked curses and tried not to spill the tea she had been drinking. Usually it was hard to get them to do anything on time, if at all. Childe had to manage the household by himself- not that he minded! He was good at it, and he had only gotten there through years of practice. It was just that there was a lot to do every day. Cleaning and laundry and shopping and cooking, sorting through the mail and paying their bills and taxes, keeping track of birthdays and holidays, making sure family friends received cards for special events and thank-you notes after.

Well! Childe would have to find some time for his own outfit. He had decided to alter one of his father's old suits to fit him. Since he was not purchasing anything new, Pantalone would not throw a fit about the cost, and if he did a good enough job with the sewing, Signora would not complain that he was embarrassing them.

But that would have to wait, because the carriage had reached their house, and there were packages to unload. Apart from Pantalone's new collection, there also were the groceries to put away in the pantry. There was a new bag of flour, a small canister of yeast, and a tin of molasses for making bread. Signora wanted bread and butter at afternoon tea every day, so Childe had made sure to get the largest package of butter. There also was a wheel of cheese, a side of smoked ham, a tin of coffee-

-and a rat. Not among the groceries, but in one of the spring traps in the pantry. The rat looked up as Childe entered, and hissed at him.

"Oh, Scaramouche," sighed Childe. "How many times have I told you to only take the food I leave out? Do you have to keep getting into the traps?"

The rat hissed again.

"And what if Pantalone starts insisting that I put out rat poison, hmm? What's your plan for that, genius?"

Scaramouche attempted to turn his back on Childe while still stuck in the trap. He was not successful.

"Alright, alright, comrade. Hold still while I get you out." Childe crouched down next to the trap, and made to lift the bar.

The rat immediately tried to bite him.

"I said, hold still," Childe repeated, amused. He got out his pocketknife for a little extra distance, and used it to lever up the bar.

Scaramouche leapt at Childe, who dodged, and then ran out to the kitchen, hopped onto the windowsill, and escaped into the garden.

"Don't gnaw on my pumpkins!" Childe called after him.

One week before the ball, the commissioned outfits arrived.

"Adequate," commented Signora, which meant that she was pleased. Her gown was of red and black silk, with a crinoline under the skirt to keep it in a bell shape.

"Waste of fabric," was Pantalone's assessment.

"And yours is not?" However, Signora's words lacked heat, and she twirled to flare out the skirt. She really was pleased with it.

"Hm." However, Pantalone did not sound upset either. He had chosen a navy suit with a single-breasted tailcoat and notched lapels.

"You both look great," said Childe sincerely. It was nice to see them happy for once. "I hope I don't look too shabby next to you, ha, ha!"

There was a sudden silence.

"You?" Signora turned to look at Childe.

"I mean, the invitation- it's for all-"

"The crown prince would never choose you," said Pantalone, adjusting his cuffs with an air of finality. "Attending would be a waste of time."

"I just-" Childe faltered. "I just thought-"

"Surely you have enough duties that you cannot afford to while away hours at a party."

"I mean- I suppose-"

"If you have somehow found yourself with a surfeit of time, then I will require a lapel pin for my suit. One which will leave others in no doubt as to my tastes and intellect." Apparently done with the conversation, Pantalone stalked out.

"I want a fascinator," said Signora. "With red vulture feathers and a birdcage veil. It must match my gown." Then she, too, lifted her skirts and glided out.

"I- sure," Childe said in the direction of her disappearing back. "I'll- I'll go work on them right away."

On the day of the ball, the work started before dawn. All of the jewellery had to be cleaned, and the cost of a professional cleaning had upset Pantalone, so Childe had learned how to do it himself. He also shined Pantalone's boots, and polished his hat with tallow, and brushed Signora's slippers. There was a brief break to serve breakfast, and then it was off to the lengthy process of preparing the outfits for wear: starching the clothes, pressing away any wrinkles with a charcoal iron, fluffing out Signora's crinoline and aligning all the hoops.

It was lunch before he knew it, and Childe only had time for a slice of bread before he had to move on to the outerwear: a pelisse and matching muff for Signora, and Pantalone's sweeping, many-caped greatcoat which took a good half-hour to properly brush and iron. Afternoon tea was served, after which Childe had to chivvy his siblings into taking baths, and set out all the accessories that they would need, and then return to curl and oil their hair, and powder Signora's face, and apply a little rouge, but not so much that it would be obvious that her flush was not natural, and then help them into their clothes, and attach all the accessories, and lace their shoes for them, and put on their outerwear for them, and see them out the door into the hired carriage, and tell them that they looked nice and to have fun even as they left without so much as a glance back at him-

-and Childe was, at last, alone in the house, with nothing to distract his thoughts.

He inhaled deeply. There was work, right? The dishes from teatime, which he had not had the time to wash, and all the cosmetics laid out on the dresser, which would have to be put away, and the charcoal iron to be emptied and cleaned-

-and- and he really had that thought that for once, he would be allowed to join Pantalone and Signora. That he could enjoy a nice treat together with them, like they had when they were children.

"Stupid," Childe mumbled. He furtively brushed away a tear, even though no one was around to see. "I really thought- I thought- I just-"

He hiccupped. The tears were now dripping from his chin, and he was helpless to stop them.

"I just- really wanted to go to the ball."

"And so you shall, my dear," murmured a new voice.

Childe yelped- he reached for his pocketknife- it was not there, he must have forgotten to take it from the bedside table that morning-

-There was a fairy in the house.

Childe had heard of fairies of course, but they were supposed to be toddler-sized, and they hovered in mid-air, and if they liked you they would follow you around and give you advice, not that Childe would ever be lucky enough for that- Anyway, this fairy was about as tall as Childe. He had long, amber-tipped hair worn loose, and richly-embroidered, layered robes cinched about his slender waist, and a tassel earring that swayed below a dainty ear, and- delicate, fluttering, gorgeous wings. They were not unlike the wings of a Geo crystalfly, if substantially larger. The armatures were lined with rocklike projections, while the thin membranes seemed to be made of some crystalline material, or maybe a kind of liquid, they moved so fluidly-

"Childe?"

-and the fairy had eyes like molten gold, and lips like soft petals, and a gentle, mellifluous voice, and get it together, Childe! Greet the fairy properly before you get cursed!

"Um- I- umm- uhhh- uhhm- I- Can I offer you a cup of tea?!"

...Great job, Childe.

However, the fairy's eyes lit up- they already were glowing, but this was properly luminous, eyes widening and crinkling a little at the corners, white-hot pupils dilating, eyebrows tilting up, and that perfect mouth too, just the slightest upward curve-

"I would love some tea. Thank you."

"I'll- I'll go make it right away!" Childe rushed for the kitchen before he could say anything else. The dirty dishes were shoved into the cupboard under the sink, and then he needed the best porcelain, somehow he found it at the back of a cupboard, and the kettle, he needed a kettle, it was already on the stove, he refilled it and set the water to boil. Tea, tea, what did they have? Oh Celestia, what was even appropriate for this time of the day? There was some sort of expensive blend Pantalone had gotten as a gift, he was going to be so mad that it had been opened but anything was better than offending one of the Fay-

"Ah, yěshēng pǔ'ěr chá," said the fairy from right behind him! Childe jumped and almost fell over, but the fairy caught his hip with just a touch, and then- leaned over his shoulder. A delicate perfume settled over Childe like a cloud, and the tassel earring brushed against his neck, and something came to rest against his back- it was one of those mesmerising wings.

The fairy inhaled, and then sighed, his eyes closing in appreciation. "What a lovely fragrance. This is a wild tea, and grows in warmer regions, completely without intervention. As a result, every harvest is unique. This batch has a brisk floral aroma, recalling the first flowers of spring, yet it swiftly shifts to one of freshly-harvested stone fruit, finally deepening into a robust, earthy quality. Pǔ'ěr tea traditionally is prepared following the gōngfū method, yet a simple teapot brew does not harm its character. This ease of preparation has greatly enhanced its popularity among all levels of society. Truly, a tea with lasting appeal."

"I think- the water is ready," Childe eventually managed to squeak out. The wing was still draped over his back, and the slender fingers had not left his hip.

"Ah, is it?" The fairy stepped away - Childe felt as if he had lost something - and glided over to the stove, and peered into the kettle. "Indeed, this is the perfect temperature. A raging torrent has formed, sufficient to awaken the leaves from their rest, yet the water has not lost its oxygen, which will be essential for drawing out the complex aromas of this tea. You have a natural instinct for brewing, Childe."

"S-Sure. Thanks!" Childe somehow managed not to drop the teapot. He poured the water over the leaves, and left it to brew while he searched for something else to serve. The biscuit tin was empty, the jar of fruit pastilles likewise, and only a small square of ginger cake was left. At the last minute, he thought to slice and butter what remained of the loaf of bread, and somehow that worked.

"It has been too long since I have tasted brown bread. The texture is exceptionally soft, and the molasses impart a subtle sweetness and complex depth, which is only further enhanced by this layer of butter. Why, this is a decadent treat indeed. The vibrant colour and creamy texture speak to its quality, and the use of fine grey salt for its seasoning is most inspired."

Childe could only nod along. It was just the normal bread and butter that they had every day.

"Oh, but Childe." The fairy set down his teacup. "I had completely forgotten about this ball that you hoped to attend. I shall assist you, of course. When will it be held?"

Childe still had no idea what was happening. So of course he opened his mouth and blurted out, "Sorry, what did you say was your name again?"

The fairy's eyes widened- Childe what is wrong with you?!

"Childe, it is I. Your fairy godmother." The fairy sounded upset now. "You- do not know me?"

"I'm- I'm sorry! It's my mistake!" Fairy godmother?! What in the- "I- must've just forgotten! It's been a busy few years, and- I'm really sorry! Please let me make it up to you-"

He got no further. The softest hands in the world were enveloping his. He looked up- golden eyes held him captive.

"Childe," the fairy whispered, "did no one tell you of our contract? Is this why...in the twenty-seven years that have passed since its signing, you have not once called for my help?"

"Um," was all that Childe could say. The fairy's eyes fluttered closed, and the wings seemed to droop.

Then those blazing eyes flew open, and the white-hot pupils glowed brighter than before. "My name is Zhongli. I am a Fay of the Noble Court and I hold the rank of Archon. I am contracted to assist you in divers matters, but especially with regards to finding your true love. Once you have achieved such felicity, our contract will conclude."

"Oh." Childe had no sensible thoughts in his head. "Um. I guess you'll be around for a while then."

"Nonsense, Childe. You have many appealing qualities. I foresee no difficulties in procuring a loving partner for you." While Childe was still recovering from that volley, the fairy - Zhongli - released him and folded his arms. "Now then, regarding this ball. Who might be the one hosting it?"

"Uh- The crown prince."

"Wonderful, he will function adequately as a true love. Now-"

"Hold on, I don't know if he'll even like me! I mean..."

"Childe." There was a light touch to his face. "If you are not compatible, it will pose no great difficulty. We will simply find another person who better suits your tastes. If the ball is hosted by a prince, there likely will be a number of attractive and wealthy attendees."

"Isn't that rather shallow-"

"More importantly, a strategy must be devised to ensure success. Depending on the amount of time available, certain preparatory moves may be feasible. When is the ball scheduled to start?"

"Um..." Childe was sweating. "A-An hour, maybe...?"

"-One hour!"

"A different eyebrow shape, perhaps?" Zhongli frowned as he held up the paper sigil next to Childe's face. "No, that is quite atrocious. Perhaps the lash length instead..."

Apparently, Zhongli had the power to magically change the appearance of any living object. However, not all changes were...safe. ("My dear, the human body is a delicate structure, and may only be altered with the greatest care. Do not ask me to recall the reckless follies of my youth, I beg of you.") So the fairy had started using sigils to keep track of what worked. Over centuries, he had amassed thousands of sigils, one for every modification that would not have some horrifying outcome.

Many of those talismans were now on Childe's person. There was one on each limb for "muscle tone." A "waist size" sigil had been pinned over his abdomen. There were two sigils resting on his hair, one for colour and one for style. There were a bunch of sigils for his face; Zhongli absently stuck them inside Childe's collar while shuffling through the clothing sigils.

There were sigils for clothes. There were a couple on his trousers, several on his shirt, and even one that Zhongli rested against his ear - "An earring would look delightful. Perhaps one with a dangling gem..."

"Um, Zhongli? I mean-" Childe tried very hard not to fidget. "What happens if they fall off? The sigils, I mean."

"Hmm? Oh, nothing in particular. They do not need to be positioned accurately, it is merely for my reference. Ah, a tie brooch! This would look lovely." Zhongli slid the paper strip between the buttons of Childe's shirt.

"And... How come you can morph clothes too? They aren't living?"

"Natural fabrics, especially those that are not excessively processed, contain numerous microscopic organisms throughout their structures. A loophole, if you prefer, that permits my manipulation of them. Oh, and I am not limited to living creatures. I can shape minerals as well. Hmm, this fabric is not quite right, I think. A silkier texture, perhaps..."

"I-I don't think it matters? I mean, there's no need to spend so much time on this..."

"Not at all, Childe. This is an essential task. This look that I am composing will do justice to your natural beauty."

"Um. I mean, I think you're pretty too."

The fairy's eyes widened, and he nearly dropped the talismans. "I- beg your pardon?"

"I-I mean-" Oh damn, oh damn, didn't think that one through. "You keep, um, complimenting me, so I thought- I thought I should say something too? Because you have pretty eyes and pretty wings and I really like your hair and- I'll shut up now."

Stupid, stupid, stupid- Huh?

There were fingertips tracing Childe's cheek, so light, so delicate, but so warm.

"Childe..." Golden eyes captured his. "...A friend of mine assured me that I look as if a jellyfish is consuming my head."

"That's one good-looking jellyfish, then," Childe offered, with some difficulty. His throat was dry.

Zhongli- smiled at him, and his wings made a little fluttering motion- and then his fingers were moving away.

"I have almost completed my selections." Zhongli was thumbing through the sigils with great concentration- were his cheeks redder? "It merely remains to find the appropriate skin tone that will properly complement your freckles."

"Um, couldn't you just, um, make them disappear? The freckles, I mean."

"Made them disappear!" This time, the sigils did fall out of Zhongli's hands.

"Oh. Bad ending?"

"No, no, it is...feasible, however..." Zhongli bent down to gather up the paper strips. "...Oh Childe. How could I bear to do such a thing? They are your most charming feature."

"I mean, they're just- and I should be trying to, you know, look less recognisable. My siblings will be- there, and-" Childe's mood dampened at the sobering realisation. "I-I'd rather not- it'd be better if they- if they didn't-"

Childe trailed off. Zhongli's expression had darkened.

"Yes... There are siblings, are there not? And they are being transported to the ball at this very minute? They abandoned you."

"It's fine!" Childe hurried to reassure him. "It's just how- I have a lot of work to- There's just so much to do and- I can't- I mean, I have to-"

"-I have to live with them," he finished dejectedly.

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Zhongli declared. "Very well, in the interests of time, I shall compromise."

With that, he pulled out a wand. Spear. That was a spear.

"Jǐn shàng tiān huā," the fairy pronounced. He flourished the spear over Childe and-

The sigils started to burn away.

The edges just started glowing and then they ate away inwards as they were consumed, and then there were sparkles. A lot of sparkles, bright gold, and what looked like floating symbols, or characters, or something, it was too bright to see-

There was a final shower of sparkles, and then all the light faded away, and Childe felt odd, and he also was wearing something else.

Zhongli looked him up and down, and sighed. "I have achieved conventional beauty, but at the cost of all that makes you unique... It cannot be helped, and I suppose this is an effective disguise. I shall procure a conveyance next."

The fairy swept out the door. Childe turned to follow, and- and he caught sight of his face in the overmantel mirror.

He was pretty now. The freckles had vanished, as had the scar from an accidental splash of hot oil, and the one across his eyebrow too, and- every single blemish was just gone. His face was so perfectly symmetrical that it almost hurt to look at it. His ginger hair had darkened to a socially-acceptable auburn. His eyes- were still blue, but the lashes were longer and thicker.

Something else occurred to him, and he lifted his hands to check if their scars were gone too, only to fail because he was now wearing gloves.

Right, the outfit. What was he wearing?

A three-piece suit, by the looks of it. It was dove grey with charcoal trim, single-breasted with peaked lapels, and far finer than anything he had ever worn in his entire life. There was a red silk tie and a matching pocket square. The tie was decorated with what could only be the "tie brooch": an elaborate, pearl-studded ornament pinned to the knot. Fitted leather gloves covered his hands and forearms. A blood-red gemstone dangled from his left ear. Off one shoulder hung a grey cape lined in dark red satin.

It was a lot. It was nearly too much.

Childe shook his head in an attempt to clear it. He really needed to catch up with Zhongli. He took a step towards the door.

There was a clink, like the sound of a glass object striking a hard surface.

Childe looked down. He was wearing shoes. Extremely shiny shoes.

"Zhongli!" he called out. "Are these shoes made of glass?"

"To be precise, they are made of obsidian," came the less-than-reassuring response.

"Won't they shatter?"

"There is no cause for concern. I have specially formulated the crystalline lattice to increase its native tensile strength, while simultaneously improving its resistance to percussive force."

Childe had no idea what all those words meant, but he decided it must be safe to keep walking, even if the clink-clink-clink sounds were very unnerving. He found Zhongli outside, examining a pumpkin.

"This specimen is far from perfect," fretted the fairy. "However, the others displayed a larger quantity of bite marks... This will have to do."

Before Childe could ask what he meant to do with the pumpkin, Zhongli stuck a sigil on the pumpkin and twirled his spear, there was another storm of sparkles, and-

"Shùn qí zì rán."

-There was a carriage. It was rather round in shape, like a pumpkin, and the cushioned interior was orange, like a pumpkin, and there were rib-like supports surrounding the body, like a pumpkin, and there was a little stem on top.

"Oh," said Childe faintly. "I was going to make soup with that."

Zhongli immediately looked stricken. Childe hurried to reassure him. "I mean, it's a very nice carriage! Definitely worth more than some rotten old pumpkin. Even Pantalone wouldn't find fault with this exchange."

"It is..." Zhongli coughed. "It is temporary. The carriage will revert at the first stroke of midnight, as will the rest of the transformations."

"Um... Rental carriages are expensive too! So, does this move by itself? One of those horseless carriages I've heard of?"

"Ah, yes... Horses." Zhongli rubbed his chin. "Indeed, horses will be necessary. I shall use... Yes, with the aid of those two, I shall improvise. Cǎo chuán jiè jiàn."

With a snap, two more talismans went flying towards the ground, straight at some field mice foraging in the pumpkin patch. There were a couple of surprised squeaks, more sparkles, and just like that, two horses were hitched to the carriage.

More or less.

"Um..." Childe hesitated. "Are those really...horses?"

"They have the requisite features, I should think," said the fairy defensively.

"Because they look more like..." Childe tried to be delicate about it. "...Like humans. In horse costumes."

"Neigh," said one of the horses, unconvincingly. The second horse scratched the back of its head.

"W-Well, horses are difficult to produce. In any case, you will find them more than capable of drawing the carriage."

"Neigh!" affirmed one horse. The other one gave him a thumbs up.

"You know what, rickshaws are totally a thing, I'm sure this is all fine. I'd better get going-"

"Wait one moment!" Zhongli interjected. "You must not proceed without a coachman! Otherwise, who will open the carriage door with a flourish, and help you down the step?"

"I- That's really not necessary-"

"No, I am determined that this will be done properly! That rodent over there - it will suffice! Huàn rán yī xīn!"

"No, wait, don't!" cried Childe. "That's Scaramouche-!"

It was too late. One more light show, and-

"Wow," Childe managed. "You look exactly like how I imagined you as a human."

Scaramouche responded with a rude gesture.

"You too, comrade. Well! Time to get moving, huh? I'm going to get there pretty late. Hopefully there'll be something left on the buffet table, heh! Oh and before I forget, which clock should I be following? For the stroke of midnight, I mean. One of those at the palace?"

"Ah..." Zhongli appeared uncertain. "The clock..?"

"Yeah, clocks can be pretty variable at timekeeping, right?" Childe knew only too well; he had to synchronise all the clocks in the house at least once a week. "Plus this kingdom has two time zones."

"I- did not know that." Zhongli looked distressed now. "I did not realise that there could be a difference. I tied the spells to the pendulum clock in the kitchen."

"Six minutes slow on Coastal Time, got it. I guess that's everything then! Alright, looks like I'll be heading off now..."

Childe trailed off. Zhongli was standing with his head low and his wings drooping, wringing his hands.

"...Zhongli...?"

"I am...a deficient fairy godmother." To Childe's alarm, Zhongli's eyes were glistening. "I neglected to investigate when you did not contact me for years, the appearance I designed for you was inadequate, I misappropriated a vegetable for which you had culinary intentions, I could not procure proper carriage horses, but I did procure a most uncouth coachman, and then I find that I have timed my spells in a most inconvenient manner. I- have acted foolishly and thoughtlessly throughout, and I would not blame you if-"

"Whoa, no, stop right there. That's- I mean, it's fine. It's all fine."

"It is not." Zhongli's wings drooped further, and he sniffled. "I am- surely worse than those who have mistreated you, for it is only now that I can see you have been mistreated. While I was frolicking about, composing floral arrangements and enjoying choice teas, you have been suffering pain and loneliness."

"Alright, no." Childe reached out, but hesitated before he could touch Zhongli. "I mean... You tried to help me. You're...the only one who's ever tried to help me. That's... Maybe it wasn't perfect, but that just shows you were trying your hardest, right? You've been trying your best all along. I mean, you know, that means a lot to me! That you, you know, cared enough to do all that."

"Oh, Childe."

Zhongli stepped forward and- gathered Childe into an embrace. His arms folded around Childe, his face pressed against Childe's shoulder, soft hair brushed Childe's cheek, and- that scent, that lovely perfume, Childe felt as if he was floating in it. He relaxed against Zhongli, and returned the embrace. He took special care not to touch the delicate wings. It was a tricky matter, as they were fluttering wildly.

"May you be granted great fortune," Zhongli murmured. His warm breath brushed over Childe's ear. "May you achieve all that you have ever hoped for. May all your kindness be repaid sevenfold. May your true love- find you without delay. This blessing I bestow upon you as the Archon of Earth. Wherever you tread, know that I am always with you."

There was- a kiss pressed to his cheek, and then Zhongli pulled back, and Childe was still recovering from the kiss but he thought that Zhongli looked rather sad-

-and then he was turned around and given a little push in the direction of the carriage. "Off you go, my dear."

"Um, sure. I mean, feel free to stay and help yourself to the rest of the bread and butter! And the tea I guess, although it's probably cold by now. And, you know, thanks for everything!"

With that, Childe stepped into the carriage, and the "coachman" slammed it shut with more force than was necessary, and then Childe leaned out of the window to wave goodbye to Zhongli, but the fairy was- his eyes were glowing, and he was twirling his spear in a mesmerising pattern, Childe could not look away-

"Bù pà màn, zhǐ pà zhàn."

The carriage was enveloped in blazing light.

Childe blinked away the spots from his vision. What had that been all about? He leaned back out of the window to ask Zhongli about it-

-The royal castle loomed over him.

"He just- transported me here? What was the carriage even for?"

"So that you don't look suspicious showing up out of nowhere, idiot," snapped a sharp voice. "Hey, you two! Get going! There's still some ways up!"

"Scaramouche, is that you?"

"No, I'm a partridge on a fucking pear tree, who do you think I am? Ugh, standing on hind legs is disgusting. There had better be a good feast up there-"

Childe tuned him out in favour of staring up at the castle. He had seen it from a distance plenty of times, and he had known that it would be big, but this close, he finally felt it. The outer wall spanned his entire view, and he had to lean his head all the way back to see the tops of the crenellated walls. Regal windows had been set in the barrier at regular intervals; between them, long banners flourished the royal colours. There were a few statues as well, staring down from lofty perches. The torches had been lit, and they fairly glittered in the dim twilight.

The carriage travelled up the hill, and through the main gate into the courtyard within-

-where there were a lot of carriages.

"Oh, um, wow." That was more vehicles than Childe had ever seen in one place. They were not in neat lines, either. Rather, they were packed in at odd angles. As Childe watched, a carriage tried to squeeze through a narrow gap, only to nearly plough into another.

Faintly over the noises of the crowd, he thought heard a familiar voice. It was Signora, his sister. She was several carriages up ahead. It looked as if the wheels of the carriage had somehow gotten locked against another's. She and the other carriage's occupant were busy screeching at each other, while around them more carriages tried to slide past.

Childe ducked back down into his own carriage and shrunk into his seat. While he normally would have been in favour of fighting his way through, or maybe just getting down and walking, he absolutely did not want to be spotted by her.

He heard Scaramouche click his tongue. "These fools are just getting in each other's way. Hey, horses! Do exactly as I say! Alright, first get into that space between the puke-green carriage and that one that looks exactly like a squashed maggot-"

Somehow, between expert navigation skills and some extremely profane commentary, Childe's carriage ended up at the entrance. Scaramouche actually did open the carriage door with a flourish and, with an expression of intense self-loathing, handed Childe down the steps.

"Thanks, comrade," Childe murmured to him as he passed by.

"I will bite all of your socks," was the hissed response.

Childe walked up to the attending stable-hand, who was eyeing the "horses" with unease, and clapped him on the shoulder. "Take good care of my hard-working friends, won't you?"

"Y-Yes, my lord."

Childe handed over his cloak at the door, and followed the stream of people inside, figuring that they would know where to go. The corridor opened up into a spacious hall with a carved, vaulted ceiling, tiled floor, and rows upon rows of gold-painted columns. Here, the stream dispersed as people broke off to chat with each other, forming clusters around the hall. Waiters circulated around the groups, bearing trays of wine glasses and canapés. Childe took a small tart from the tray that was offered to him. It was only one bite of food, but the flavour was intensely savoury, as if the chef had compressed an entire meal into that tiny tart shell.

Childe had no one to talk to, so he drifted around the hall, kept half an eye out for his siblings, and tried not to look too out of place. There were some noticeable differences in social groups. There were people who, while obviously wealthy, wore clothes with simple silhouettes and only one or two ornaments, and kept to their small circles. Others wore elaborate outfits festooned with gold, jewels, and colourful feathers, and were constantly moving around to talk to different people. There were the gregarious types who formed large, loud groups, and reclusive ones who more or less hid around the corners.

At last, a head servant stepped up to the front. "Gentle visitors, the ball will commence shortly. His Highness the Prince invites his esteemed guests into the Queen's Ballroom."

Some people went back to their conversations, but there was a general movement towards the ballroom. Childe did his best to disappear among the crowd. Pantalone was one of those who had stayed behind, but Signora was moving, accompanied by her circle of richly-dressed women.

The ballroom was huge.

Maybe it was the lofty arched ceiling, the balconies lining the second and third floors on either side, or the grand staircase at the far end, but the room seemed impossibly large. There were great big chandeliers, too, and a mirror-polished floor. Childe could not imagine how long it would take to clean everything.

The room was mostly empty of furniture. In front of the staircase, two long tables had been positioned. They were covered in lidded silver containers, so those had to be the buffet tables. Odd choice of location though. Wouldn't you put them at the sides so that people have more space to dance?

Childe had no time to puzzle over them. A trumpet fanfare blared out. As if rehearsed, everyone immediately moved off to the sides. Childe ended up wedged in between a column and a lady with a very strong perfume.

There were two people at the very top of the staircase, standing arm in arm. They were dressed very richly, and wore crowns. They also were obviously brother and sister: both blond, similar builds, similar facial features. They could only be the Queen's children: the prince and princess of the land.

"Her Highness, the Princess! His Royal Highness, the Crown Prince!"

Accompanied by an orchestral march, the royal siblings descended the staircase together. The hall was still as everyone's eyes stayed fixed on the dignified pair. The princess, the picture of elegance; the prince, a portrait of nobility.

The pair reached the bottom of the staircase. Footmen had gathered around the buffet tables; in one move, they removed all the silver covers. At this, there were soft gasps around the room. Even from a distance, the food looked amazing. Breads, cheeses, fruit, skewered meats, fresh seafood, miniature salads in wine glasses, pastries, cakes, puddings, all arranged on eye-catching stands. There even were silver bowls of ice cream set in a large tub of ice.

With deliberate care, the prince removed his gloves. He reached out and plucked a golden-brown ball from a stand, and bit into it.

"Eugh!" The prince's voice echoed around the ballroom. "This has no flavour!" He tossed the half-eaten ball over one shoulder.

"Geri!" hissed the princess. Her voice likewise echoed around the room. "Don't throw your food about! We're in public!"

"But Freki, it's so tasteless!" The prince picked up a meat skewer. "Ugh, this seasoning! It's too strong! It overpowers everything!"

He threw it aside, and picked up a pastry. "Horrible, just horrible! The pastry is too flaky! It's all over my suit now! This tart... Too soft, too soft! Why, it's nearly mushy! This thing- what is this?"

"It is a fish stick, Your Royal Highness," intoned one of the footmen.

"Ridiculous! Fish do not have branches! And this- is this meant to be a grape? Where are the seeds? This cheese has too many holes! This salad - oh, the colour combination! I can't bear it!"

Childe watched in disbelief as the prince went through all of the food on the table, and somehow found fault with every single item.

"This fowl wing has too many bones!"

"Eurgh, I loathe mint jelly!"

"Shrimp wrapped in potatoes? What an awful combination!"

"Baked cheesecake! What's next, deep-fried butter?"

"What kind of hash brown doesn't contain pinecones?!"

"Yes, he does this every time," someone muttered to another.

At last, the prince finished his tasting. He sniffed and declared, "Awful, just awful! Take it all away!"

The footmen immediately lifted the tables, and carried them to the side of the hall.

"Geri!" The princess nudged the prince urgently. "The dancing!"

"Oh, right, the ball. I suppose we should get that over with." The prince sniffed again. "Well, line up, or something."

Strangely, in spite of the earlier display, a line immediately formed. The crown prince donned his gloves and took the hand of the first person in line, with the air of someone picking up a cockroach.

Childe decided he was having absolutely none of that. Zhongli would be disappointed, but- Abyss, no. He went for the buffet table instead.

He jumped a little as a bell tolled, and the clock struck- nine. Phew. The castle clock was on Central Time, or one hour behind Coastal Time, so eleven was the time to watch out for. He still had two hours.

Childe had no idea what was wrong with the prince's tastebuds, because the food was fantastic. Savoury, flavourful, crisp when it needed to be, soft otherwise, all perfectly cooked and seasoned by someone who knew how. Childe was going to try everything. He was not the only with that idea; there were some others circling the table and piling their plates high- was that Scaramouche ducking under the tablecloth? That little rat. Childe smiled to himself, and reached out for the next item-

"Halt! Withdraw your hands at once!"

Childe blinked. "Pardon?"

"These golden shrimp balls are all for me," declared the speaker, a woman with long purple hair. "Don't think of taking even one!"

Childe briefly considered duelling her, but then remembered that he was supposed to keeping a low profile. Signora was in the queue to dance with the prince, and Pantalone was schmoozing with some other stuffy-looking people. The buffet table was not crowded enough to give him cover.

Zhongli's magical makeover aside, if he started a fight they would definitely know it was him.

"...Sure. So, what do you think of the crown prince?"

"He's a total boor." The purple-haired woman picked up the tower of shrimp balls one-handed - her muscles flexed under the thin sleeves of her dress - and plucked one off with her free hand.

"Ningguang wants to marry him for power." She gestured with the shrimp ball at a stately-looking woman in a sleek dress, who was standing straight-backed near the front of the queue. "But I couldn't stand a husband like that. I've made sure that he will never pick me. Heh, I've been rude to him every single time we've met. I'm sure I'm at the bottom of his list." She took a bite out of the delicacy.

"But he's pretty rude too," observed Childe. "What if he thinks you're a kindred spirit? Maybe every time you're rude to him, he likes you even more."

The purple-haired woman stared at him in open-mouthed horror. Half-chewed potatoes nearly fell out of her mouth.

Childe swiped two shrimp balls and made a run for it. "Just kidding!"

"Mmf- You! Get back here-!"

Cackling, Childe darted through the crowd with his plate cradled against his chest. He gave his siblings a wide berth, and kept close to the edges- and dodged an oncoming person only just in time.

"Careful there, buddy."

"Sorry, sorry." The boy- no, man ran a hand over his golden hair and tugged at his braid. He looked stressed. "I, just- My sister went off somewhere, and I can't find her at all. Have you seen her around? She's my twin, same height and hair colour as me."

As he was speaking, Childe noticed a figure in the background. It was a woman, a short blonde in a white dress, accompanied by a small hovering- fairy, it was a fairy. The woman was climbing up the wall. As Childe watched, she grabbed a wall hanging, shimmied up it, and flipped herself onto the balcony above. She and the fairy disappeared into the darkness.

"Um, have you checked- the garden?"

The short man brightened. "Oh, good idea! My sister loves picking flowers, and berries...and chillies... Oh god, what if she's chopping down a tree for wood? I need to find her now!"

"Good luck, comrade!" Childe called out after the man as he rushed off. Then, in a lower voice, "Good luck, fellow fairy associate, whatever it is that you're doing."

Childe continued weaving his way through the crowd. He ended up near a casement window. On a whim, he stepped outside, and found himself in a small alcove, furnished with a round table and a few chairs. The sky was by now fully dark, with not even the stars showing; it likely was cloudy out. The night was cool, and a gentle wind was blowing.

A shadow shifted.

Childe reached for his pocketknife, which he still did not have on him, maybe he could use the meat skewers as projectiles- it was just a man.

"Oh... Good evening."

"Evening," grunted the man. He had red hair, Childe realised, of an even deeper shade than his own.

Childe decided that the other man was not disturbed by his presence. The man had some food with him too, and a glass of wine. They ate together in silent companionship.

A light appeared in the sky.

Childe blinked. Had the moon come out- no, it should be a new moon at the moment, this was something else. Someone had shone a very bright light up at the cloudy sky - to make shadow puppets? That was definitely the silhouette of someone's folded hands, shaped to look like some kind of animal.

"Oh, it's a bat!" Childe realised out loud. "That's really good!"

There was a small noise. Childe turned to look at his companion. The other man was staring fixedly at the bat-shaped shadow in the sky.

"I...need to go," he said, as if with difficulty. "To...the bathroom."

"Um, alright?" Childe was baffled. "It's not like you need anyone's permission-"

The man had vanished.

"...Huh."

By the time Childe finished his food, the other man still had not returned. He had finished his own meal earlier, so Childe stacked up the used plates and cutlery to return them. He glanced over at the wine glass, which was still partially filled.

Well, the man probably would prefer a fresh glass over one that had been left sitting out. Childe lifted the glass and drank down the contents.

"...This is grape juice."

Some new sounds became audible. They sounded like the shuffling of small feet, accompanied by hushed voices.

"D'you think he's in there?"

"The signal went up ages ago! I told you, he's left!"

"I want to see! I want to see!"

"I'm bored. I want to go back."

"Yeah, I want to get more ice cream!"

"Shh, we'll be caught!"

"Now, what are you rascals up to, hmm?"

The children shrieked as Childe stepped out. There were five of them.

"It's him! It's the secret hero!" gasped one.

"Look, he even has red hair!"

"He's so tall!"

"Eeee-!"

"Great, we saw him. Can we go back now?"

"Wait, wait, hold on. I'm not a hero." What in the-

"Don't worry, we won't tell anyone!" one of the children assured him. Another one pinched his lips together, as if to signal that he would keep them shut.

Childe sighed. "Where are you parents, anyway?"

"They're talking to important people!" said one.

"Boring people," another one opined. "They only talk 'bout mora."

"Mine are talking with friends, I guess?" said a third child. "They come to our house all the time."

"Daddy's going to marry the prince!" declared the fourth. "Then we can be rich!"

The last child crossed his arms. "Mommy doesn't care about marrying the prince, but she wanted me to see the castle. She said it's a one alive chance."

"Once in a lifetime," corrected the third child.

"But the castle's boring! I want to go home."

"Mr. Dark Night?" The second child tugged at Childe's pants. "Can you come with us? Mama said kids hafta stay on the ground 'cause upstairs is for adults. But if you come with us, we can go upstairs too!"

"Oh, good idea!"

"Yeah, let's take Mr. Dark Night with us!"

"And then we can get ice cream!"

"Can we go to the roof?" For the first time, the fifth child looked interested. "I want to see if there's any pigeons."

"I'm really not-" Childe sighed. I guess I'm not really doing anything... And I actually do want to look around the castle. I don't think I'll ever get to come back here again.

Just then, the bell tolled, signalling that another hour had passed. It was now ten.

"Alright, I'll go with you, but stick close and no running, got it?"

"Okay!"

"Yaaay!"

"We'll follow you, Mr. Dark Night!"

Kids.

Accompanied by his new team of intrepid explorers - their names were Lulu, Fei, Meng, Nora, and Timmie - Childe led the way upstairs. He made sure to walk confidently and act as if he was leading an educational trip.

"Look everyone, this is called an 'embrasure.' It's so the soldiers can shoot arrows at the enemy without getting hit!"

"Oooh!"

The tactic worked; none of the guards stopped them. Most of the rooms were locked, but the corridors had enough interesting paintings and statues, and chests that the children insisted on checking for treasure.

"Won't that be stealing, though?"

"We're not gonna take it! We just want to look at it!"

Sadly, all of the chests that they found stored ordinary items such as bedsheets and towels. That did not stop the children from declaring a fringed curtain in one chest to be a legendary "golden fleece," or spending some time debating how to sneak it away from a nearby dragon statue, which would of course come to life and attack once the fleece was removed.

They did manage to visit the rooftop as well, and even found some sleeping pigeons. Timmie was delighted, and would not stop talking about them as he held Childe's hand all the way back down to the second floor.

"Alright everyone, what do you want to do now-"

"Storytime!" cried Nora.

"Yeah! Storytime!"

"Tell us a story, Mr. Dark Night!"

"Alright, alright." Childe found a chair, and got the children to sit around him, all the while thinking of what to story to tell them.

What was that advice- write what you know?

"Once upon a time, there was a young man who lived with his two selfish step-siblings. They were mean and lazy, and they made him do all the housework."

Lulu gasped. "Even sweeping out the icky closet with all the dead moths?!"

Childe nodded grimly. "Even that."

The children clung to each other in horror.

"So anyway, one day-"

"'Scuse me Mr. Dark Night!" Fei raised his hand and waved it.

"Yes?"

"What's the young man's name?"

"Great question, it's- Ciiinder. Cinder! Because he kept having to clean out the fireplace and would get soot all over himself, right? It was a mean nickname his step-siblings gave him."

"That's a really mean name!"

"Yeah, he was just doing all the work they made him do!"

"But then we shouldn't call him by that," Meng pointed out. "We'd just be helping the mean step-siblings to bully him, right? What's his real name?"

There was a pause.

"...Ajax. His name was Ajax."

"Ohh! That's a much better name!"

"I like it! It's pretty!"

Childe swallowed. "R-Right! Anyway, one day, the- king of the land announced he was throwing a ball! All eligible young men and women were invited, and one lucky person would get to marry him."

"Just like the crown prince!"

"Yup, it's a popular strategy. So anyway, C- Ajax was invited to the ball of course, but his step-siblings wouldn't let him! They went off by themselves, and forced him to stay back and do all the chores!"

"No!"

"They're so mean!"

"He wouldn't get any of the ice cream!"

"Why're they so mean, Mr. Dark Night?"

"I'm not sure." Childe swallowed again. "I'm really not sure. Anyway! Ajax was sad because he...had to miss out on the ice cream, and started to cry. He really wished he could go, and see the castle, and have fun for once in his life..."

"He can play with us!" declared Lulu.

"We'll even let him be the pirate captain!"

"Yeah, for sure!"

"Ajax isn't real." Timmie rolled his eyes. "You're all being silly. He's just a character in a story."

"Well, if he was real, I'd give him a great big hug," decided Nora.

Childe somehow managed to speak around the lump in his throat. "Alright, let me continue... Suddenly, there was a flash of light, and sparkles appeared everywhere! And then a sweet voice spoke. "Dear Ajax, do not cry. I shall make sure you get to the ball." The voice belonged to Ajax's fairy godmother, who had come to help him!"

"A fairy godmother!"

"Yes, and he was very beautiful. He had long hair as soft as silk, and golden eyes that shone like gemstones, and a gentle, calm smile upon his petal-pink lips, and a voice as sweet and smooth as honey-" Childe abruptly realised that the children were looking at him with interest. "-And wings! Great big glittery ones. Because fairies always have wings, aheh."

"But wait..." Meng frowned. "If the fairy's a he, wouldn't he be a fairy godfather?"

"No, a fairy godfather is totally different," said Nora immediately, before Childe could say anything.

"Yeah, they run crime gangs. My Uncle Draff told me all about it," said Timmie seriously.

"M-Moving on! So the fairy waved his wand over a pumpkin, and turned it into a carriage to take Ajax to the ball! And then he waved the wand again, and turned some mice into horses to draw the carriage, and a rat into a coachman! And then he waved his wand a third time, and Ajax's dirty clothes changed into a beautiful three-piece suit!"

"Wow!"

"But wait, Ajax was pretty dirty because of all the soot, right? Wouldn't he just dirty the new clothes again?"

"Don't be silly, Meng! Obviously the fairy magic gave Ajax a bath, and made him look pretty too!"

"I want a magic bath," said Nora. She tugged at a pigtail. "I hate baths. It's always so cold at first."

"Ah, it's always like that... Anyway, the fairy godmother warned Ajax that the magic would only last until midnight. After that, everything would change back to what it was before."

"Oh no-!"

"So Ajax got into the carriage, and it took him to the king's castle in double-quick time. When he got there, all eyes were on him! The king took one look at Ajax and immediately fell in love-"

"Ajax isn't going to marry the king, is he?" Timmie interrupted.

"Ah, maybe? What's wrong with that?"

"Well, the king didn't do anything to help Ajax! He doesn't deserve him."

"Yeah, yeah, the fairy godmother did everything!"

"Besides..." Meng scratched his cheek. "The king only likes Ajax 'cause of how he looks, right? I mean, if he fell in love at first sight. But that's gonna wear off at midnight."

"Um, well..."

"I've got it!" Lulu punched a fist into her palm. "Ajax should marry the fairy godmother! That solves everything!"

"Yes, yes, that's right! Ajax should marry the fairy godmother! Then he doesn't have to live with his nasty step-siblings anymore!"

"The fairy can magically clean the house, so there's never any chores!"

"Plus the fairy knows what Ajax really looks like, so you know he doesn't mind."

"Is that how the story ends, Mr. Dark Night?" Nora asked him hopefully.

"Y-Yes, Ajax marries the fairy godmother and- and they live happily ever after. Um- storytime's over, let's go get some ice cream!"

"Yaaay!"

The queue to dance with the prince was still very long, even if it had moved; Signora for one was no longer in it. More people were going for the food, and it seemed that the castle staff had anticipated as much: four more buffet tables had been set up, and the original two had been refilled, including the all-important ice cream bowls. The children squealed and made a dash for them.

"I want the mint flavour!"

"I want berry flavour!"

"I want berry with mint!"

"Mint is gross! I want grainfruit flavour!"

Childe attempted to corral them before they knocked over something. "All right, kids, settle down. How about I scoop the ice cream for you? Now, who wanted what- Oh, excuse me," he said, as he brushed past someone.

"You!"

Childe automatically turned- it was Prince Geri, the heir to the throne himself. He was pointing at Childe.

"Your face- it's perfectly symmetrical! I've never seen such a thing!"

"Um, thanks. Your Royal Highness." What the...

"I've decided!" declared the prince. "You shall dance with me at once! The rest of you," he gestured at the queue, "might as well disperse!"

What. WHAT. He's choosing ME? Just because of- forget that, what do I do now? Quick, Childe, come up with something-

A bell tolled. The clock had struck eleven.

Childe did the only thing he could think of.

He grabbed the nearest food item - about three-quarters of a pie - and flung it.

"Food fight!"

He really, genuinely, honestly thought that the prince would duck.

The prince just stood there, blinking, berry filling slowly slipping down his face.

"FOOD FIGHT!" screamed five childish voices, as two pieces of cake, three cream puffs, and a scoop of mint ice cream sailed through the air.

And then the prince began to laugh.

"Yes! How delightful! An excellent use for these distasteful victuals! And certainly more exciting than all this dreadful dancing!" The prince swiped the berry filling off his face, and grabbed a tray of fish sticks. "I hereby declare a tournament of comestible bombardment! The winner will be chosen as my spouse!"

There was a half-breath of silence-

The entire ballroom converged on the buffet tables.

Childe turned to flee. He wove through the rushing, grabbing crowd while dodging airborne ingredients. Through the chaos, he spotted the stately woman, Ningguang, calmly deflecting projectiles with one hand while flinging fried radish ball skewers with the other. He briefly ran alongside the purple-haired woman as she fled with a full stand of golden shrimp balls, and obligingly knocked aside a barrage of Zhongyuan chop suey aimed at her face. The short blonde lady from earlier was in the thick of it- Where did she even get a baguette sword? Her fairy companion leapt up and caught a grilled fish skewer between her teeth.

Not everyone was comfortable in a war zone. "This is insane!"

"Help, help! There's sticky honey sauce on my dress!"

"Somebody put up the bat signal!"

"Did Childe slither in here somehow?"

Childe froze. Signora and Pantalone were standing together near one end of a buffet table, not too far away.

"This is very much his puerile style," Signora continued disdainfully. "Why, I've never seen such a disgrace."

"Hmm."

And in a single, deliberate motion, Pantalone overturned a bowl of pudding over Signora's head.

Signora shrieked as the creamy pink dessert soaked her hair and face. "What are you doing?!"

"Winning, dear sister. Did you not hear? The victor of this tournament shall be crowned royal consort." With that, Pantalone collected a tray of eclairs and sailed into the fray.

"You- you-!" Signora snatched full bottle of champagne off the table and shook it violently. With her free hand, she retrieved a match and struck it against her skirt. The match ignited.

"I'll show you winning!"

Childe decided that he really needed to get out of there.

Childe figured that leaving through the front entrance would be a bad idea. Instead, he chose to flee through the passages meant for servants, navigating the dingy corridors by pure instinct, his glass shoes clinking on the floor as he ran.

Somehow, he made it. He found a servants' door, darted through it, and slammed it shut behind him just as blazing light started to surround him.

Once the light dissipated, he was plain old Childe again, in his usual shabby clothes and his less-than-symmetrical face.

The magic was gone.

Childe exhaled, and gazed up at the sky. The clouds had cleared a little, allowing some stars to shine through. He was quite far from home.

"I should go find Scaramouche."

Scaramouche had been at the ballroom earlier, but he would have taken his spoils somewhere safe to eat, which in this place was most likely the carriage. Childe set out to find the royal stables.

It took a few wrong turns, but eventually he came across a building with a statue of a rearing horse in front. It was easy enough to sneak past the drowsy guards at the entrance. The stables were big, but at last he found the lot where his carriage must have been parked. There was a shattered pumpkin in it. The two field mice were there too, and were busy eating the pumpkin. They looked up as he approached.

"Uh, no, carry on. Although... You wouldn't happen to have seen Scaramouche, would you?"

One of the mice pointed with its tail. Childe followed it to find a bloated rat lying on the floor. A half-eaten mora meat pastry was clutched in his paws.

"Oh, Scaramouche."

The rat's tail and whiskers twitched weakly. He put up no resistance as Childe picked him up and tucked him into his pocket.

"Well, time to go home, I guess."

It was a long walk out of the castle and down to the town below. By some stroke of luck, Childe happened to reach the post office right as the midnight mail coach was about to leave. Nobody noticed him sneaking aboard. The other passengers sleepily shifted to make room as he sat down.

Childe leaned back in his seat and hugged his arms around himself. Scaramouche was a warm presence in his pocket, his tiny heart beating fast.

It would be a few hours before he reached home.

The mail coach stopped at the town centre just as the sky was starting to lighten. By the time Childe reached the house, a pink glow had started to appear. He placed Scaramouche in the corner of the coat cupboard to sleep off his excesses, and headed towards the kitchen-

-which was still lit up?

The kitchen was still warm and lit, because the fireplace was still going, and- the fairy was still there, those great big wings shimmering as he fussed over a pot.

"Zhongli," Childe croaked.

The fairy turned, and his face immediately lit up. "Childe! You have returned! Welcome home." He crossed the kitchen floor, reaching out to take Childe's hands in his own.

No one had ever welcomed him home before. No one.

"-was it? Did you meet the prince?"

"Um." Childe shook his head to clear it. "Yes. He was pretty awful. Um, I mean, I did have a good time, just not with him."

"Oh." Zhongli's grasp on his hands tightened for a moment, and his eyes lowered. "Someone- else, then?"

Zhongli really did have beautiful eyes. Well, pretty much everything about him was beautiful. Childe swallowed, and searched for something to distract himself with. His eyes fell on the pot in the fireplace.

"I guess. Um, are you cooking something?"

"Ah, yes. I prepared a pot of rice congee, such that it would be ready in time for your breakfast. Although," that perfect mouth turned down, "now that I think about it... Surely you would have consumed many elegantly-crafted dishes at the ball, and would have no use for such a simple meal..."

"Zhongli." Childe's heart was thumping in his ears. "Can you- can you do something for me?"

"Yes, of course, Childe," the fairy responded immediately. "What is it?"

"Call me- Ajax. Please. I mean, it's my real name."

Zhongli's eyes widened in alarm. One hand flew up to touch Ajax on the chest, while the other caught his elbow.

"That is- your true name?"

"I mean, yes? I guess."

"You must never give away your true name to one of the Fay!" Zhongli stepped closer, his eyes wide and anxious, his fingers tangling themselves in Ajax's shirt. "A true name possesses great power-"

Ajax kissed him.

He kissed Zhongli, and boldly gathered him into his arms, and- the fairy melted into his embrace. He wound his arms around Ajax, and buried slender fingers in his hair, and kissed him back.

He was so warm.

He was warmth and comfort and passion all at once, from the silken caress of his hair to the ardent press of his lips, and the fireplace flickered from the wild fluttering of his wings. Daringly, Ajax allowed his fingers to graze the edge of a wing, and the fairy made a helpless little noise, and quivered in his hold, and pressed closer still.

Very gradually, Zhongli drew back. The flush on his cheeks only made his eyes glimmer brighter.

"Oh Ajax, you- you would choose- me? To be your true love? Oh, but I am so much older than you, and- I am very forgetful besides, and I often behave foolishly-"

"I really don't care," Ajax informed him, and kissed him again.

This time, once they parted, Zhongli curled up close instead, and rested his cheek against Ajax's shoulder.

"You have chosen your true love," he murmured. "Our contract is complete."

"Want to make another one?"

A slow smile spread over the fairy's face, and his embrace tightened. "I could be persuaded."

Upon the occasion of his marriage, Ajax moved out of the house, leaving his siblings to fend for themselves. Between Pantalone's miserly ways, Signora's squandering ones, and their mutual unwillingness to do anything for themselves- Well, sometimes the best punishment is being forced to live with one another.

Ningguang won the food fight, and was therefore crowned Princess Consort, and eventually Queen Consort. It is not known what she thought of her husband, for after the wedding she only rarely accompanied him in public, and never spoke of him at all. However, the kingdom continued to prosper, with perhaps some improvements with regards to poverty, and unemployment, and homelessness, and various other social ills, and so the citizens, at least, thought that it had gone rather well.

As for Ajax and Zhongli, they settled down together in a quaint little cottage, the sort that leaves one in no doubt that a fairy resides there. It had a lovely large garden for growing vegetables, and cultivating beautiful flowers, and for the placement of an apiary, and eventually, for their children to play in, and if sometimes the pumpkins had bite marks on them, well, perhaps it was just a sign that an old friend had stopped by.

This narrator being an unrepentant cynic, is nevertheless willing to admit that happy endings can exist, and it is only the truth that the fairy and his soot-covered mortal did, in fact, live happily ever after.

THE END