Chapter Text
“Five seconds,” Furina forces herself to look at the twins despite the grueling feeling swimming in her gut; this closure is one she’s well aware she owed them. “Five seconds; that was how long I genuinely believed that you murdered your troupe member, Cowell."
The five seconds were more of a knee-jerk response to the situation; the kids were Hearth members and a murder happened during their show. Then rationality hit her; the Hearths were an espionage division; they didn’t go that far in their line of work and from her high throne, she saw that Lyney was trembling all over and one second away from throwing up in horror.
That is not the face of a murderer, and they were far from stupid to pull such a terrible assassination if it came to it. So she knew immediately something was amiss, but the Hearth twins were not the cause of the murder.
Yet when reminded of how staunchly the young man had tried to twist those two outlanders out of a lawsuit at Romaritime Harbor, who was she not to utilize this very chance presented before her?
Lynette bristles, “Yet you still convicted my brother of that murder." her tail flicks about sharply while her calm face contorts in anger; it’s only Lyney’s comforting hand on his sister’s shoulder that keeps her from outright hissing.
“I did; for that, I’m proven wrong and you were declared not guilty, as the trial turned out.” she reminds them not unkindly.
Lyney’s eyes narrowed in distaste. “You knew I was innocent, even if you hadn’t known who the real murderer was. Why did you accuse me?” His voice was brittle with bitterness, and Furina couldn’t blame him for his anger.
For all that he came out of that trial innocent, the damage was already done. He and his twin are performers—public figures who rely on their reputation for their success in the industry; a stain like a murder trial— who cares about the outcome? —is no small thing for folks in their industry.
She knew damn well the consequences they’d face when she put them in that situation; bringing the fact they were Fatui to the forefront, she could have jeopardized their careers as magicians entirely.
They had struggled to make their usual crowd at their shows after it, and while they don’t rely on their side jobs to make ends meet, it was something both twins were passionate about. Furina admitted that she had been far too rash with how she handled that case; she had been too jittery with anxiety since the moment her informants told her of Lumine’s impending arrival.
Furina averts his gaze, meeting Lumine’s expecting gold orbs, which lit up with realization at the all-too-obvious answer. “Lumine,” she knows her excuse is flimsy, but it is the truth.
The girl sweeps any nation she walks into into chaos—the Mondstadt dragon problem? Handled. The Liyuen Archon funeral crisis? Hailed a hero. The Inazuma Civil War? Ended it. The Sumeru government upheaval? Wouldn’t happen without her!
Furina had every right to be anxious; all the nations benefitted in the end but who is to say her involvement in a plan already set in motion wouldn’t make things worse?
Furina couldn’t bank her people’s lives on that.
Lumine exhales tiredly, "Yeah, I figured between me and the people’s expectations, you had to do it." Furina played her part, and the rest of them were roped into playing theirs.
Furina clears her throat; she begins, “Forgive me but the situation was convenient for me, you could say. I was resorting to any means to….. push her out of Fontaine and knew from your fast friendship with her that she would step in for you.”
“So what you’re saying is that you used the murder of my troupe member— a probable case of another woman disappearing —and accused me of it just so you could have a chance to... To make Lumine leave Fontaine?”
When he put it like that, it did sound like the height of insanity, as if Furina had been reaching at the seams to make sense, not to say she didn’t, because she did.
The former Archon chuckles darkly; it's a chilling sound coming from an otherwise usually bubbly person. “You’ve seen it, don’t you? On that day, the lengths I’m willing to go to keep the prophecy at bay.” The whole room flinches at her words and what they remind them of as they meet her gaze, which is heavy with something harrowing; they know all too well what lengths she’ll go, that she did go.
“I’m no stranger to the lesser of two evils; it certainly helped my conscience that your so-called Father’s assassination attempt was still fresh on my mind.”
“What changed?” With a note of curiosity, Lyney asks, his anger muted. “Why choose to give up your power now instead of before?”
“It wasn’t easy, you know, trying to outrun a preordained catastrophe. There were machinations at work that are best left an untold story,” Furina explains, a finger jutted upwards, “Or at least one that’s twisted enough from the full truth, lest we attract the attention of the throne in the sky."
Not many knew what she was referring to, and even fewer could understand what it meant to incur its attention. It is unclear whether Celestia noticed that the prophecy was duped; best to leave it at that. Being allogene hearths and thus dealing directly with the Fatui’s flow of information, the twins gape slightly at the implications of her words. And with that, the topic is closed.
Still, the siblings look ever so sullen. “Children, do you resent me for how fate played out? Speak your truth and let it be judged.” Furina ponders whether they are also realizing how little control she had over the circumstances and that they cannot place more blame on her than they can on themselves.
“Resent is…. a strong word,” Lyney begins, exhaling a deep breath as he contemplates his words. “I don’t resent you, but I don’t understand you either. Any debt you owe us is paid on that day when we played our part in forming that duel that spilled your blood. There will be no bad blood between us, but you will receive no sympathy from us either.”
Neuvillette taps his cane to call upon attention. “Mister Lyney, Miss Lynette, members of the formerly known House of Hearth, under the charges of trying to investigate the Oratice Mecanique de'Analyse Cardinal without jurisdiction and being accomplices in the coercion of the former Hydro Archon of Fontaine, you are both guilty.”
Then the Iudex turns to face Furina, his voice as neutral as ever as he announces her sentence, “Miss Furina de Fontaine, former Hydro Archon of Fontaine. Regina of All Waters, Kindreds, Peoples, and Laws. Under the charges of intentionally falsely accusing an innocent person of murder and causing the accused and their siblings emotional distress, you are guilty.”
The Hearth twins look up at her with startled expressions; both of them clearly were not expecting her to have a sentence as well and they’re not alone in such a predicament.
Furina crossed her arms defensively. “What’s with the surprised looks? Did any of you truly think there is any justice to be found in a one-sided judgment?” She frowns as she observes the reactions, shaking her head in frustration, "Whatever, I wish to drop all charges against me."
An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. For the emotional distress and jeopardy she caused them, she'll take the mindfuck from the trial duel as Even Steven . It's less of a bother to think of the debts they owe each other in turn; it's best to just clear the slate so to say. Lyney and Lynette both share a glance as if communicating through eyes alone, and it appears they too share Furina’s opinion on the matter.
“We too wish for the same.”
Neuvillette nods; nothing betrays the neutrality he wears. “Do both parties agree to drop all charges?”
“Agree,” three voices chorus together in unison.
“Therefore, I hereby declare all charges for this case dropped.”
Lynette's tail ceased swishing in stress, and Lyney let out a tired breath as if a weight had stopped crushing them. In all honesty, they were prepared for the worst when Father summoned them to this meeting, but things had only spiraled in their favor far more than they could imagine. Looking at the one they once called Archon, she feels less like a show and more like a person, one whose exhaustion is etched upon every expression and movement.
“Alright, let’s take five.” Furina’s whole demeanor seems to change as she calls for a break and claps her hands daintily. Her face shines with a sweetness that wasn’t there before, contrasting with the solemn woman she was minutes ago.
“I could use a break; dears, please bring in the teas and snacks." A melusine eagerly enters the room, pushing a cart of treats and refreshments. Assortments of cakes, cookies, and pastries are served alongside pots of tea and coffee. There’s no hiding the obvious excitement on the former Archon’s face at the prospect of her desserts.
The whole room watches the scene unfold while a little whiplashed by her quick change of attitude and notes the not-so-subtle as the Sigewinne passes her vials of potions to take before eating. Navia frowns, asking, "Are you still ill, Furina?" Sure, the Archon is in a wheelchair and all, but she had chalked it up to the nurse following protocol with patients; it has been months since the duel and flood.
Furina stiffens at the query about her health but nonetheless shrugs it off like it matters little. She insists, "It is honestly nothing," but Sigewinne disagrees.
The nurse scoffs, “A severe allergic reaction on top of a lung infection is most definitely not nothing .” And if she hadn’t been saddled with such a stubborn lady as a patient, she’d definitely have made her wear face masks for this meeting.
The last two weeks have been precarious for those in charge of Furina's care; a Mond music band had requested a meeting with Furina to discuss music, and she had agreed. It had been an enjoyable evening for Furina until it wasn’t . It couldn’t be a more terrible time to discover an allergy.
Furina's love of all things sweet is well known even to foreigners, so the band members were quite alarmed when the former Archon collapsed to the ground, seemingly choking to death, after they gave her some of their nation’s local desserts they had brought as gifts.
“How was I to know I was deathly allergic to raspberries?” Furina pouts; she has never particularly favored them and even tended to avoid them because they tasted weird and made her hands and throat feel itchy and bloaty.
Which she probably should’ve known wasn’t normal in hindsight; the immortality curse must’ve kept her from dying back then.
As soon as she dropped to the ground in anaphylactic shock, panic ensued as the Marechaussee Phantom stormed the room to help her while the band was detained to be questioned. They were released after it was determined that the accident was not intentional on their part. Who could’ve known of the allergy if Furina herself didn’t?
The Palais staff and Sigewinne gathered that she had a severe allergic reaction and gave her the epinephrine shot and supposedly that was it— It wasn’t, because hours later she was barely breathing right and if Kiara had been any less vigilant, Furina probably would’ve...
Sigewinne refuses to even entertain the thought, the weight of what nearly happened under her watch is too harrowing even for her to think about.
The melusine nurse discovered a lung infection had festered; only then did they put her in quarantine. The allergic reaction had weakened Furina’s still-developing immune system, making her more susceptible to germs. Their oversight on this caused the lady to spend the next week unconscious and bedridden, delirious with fever and breathing difficulties.
Neuvillette had to strongarm Wriothesley into bullying the melusine to rest because she was so anxious and jittery, and Sigewinne insisted on round-the-clock monitoring until Furina stabilized. And even then, the still nurse felt guilty for what happened.
“I… I’ve become too complacent and careless ; this is not the kind of mistake I tend to make.” As she is made to sit down and eat tea and snacks, the melusine murmurs softly to the Duke and the hydro dragon. “Lung infection….how could I have missed it?” She sounded so heartbroken that the anger in her voice was almost glazed over.
"Sigewinne, we all have our slip-ups. Besides, you realized it just in the nick of time." The nurse could only tremble, her hands clenched tightly, despite Wriothesley's attempts to calm her.
“Don’t you understand your grace? She could’ve died. ”
Neuvillette has to will himself not to recoil at her whispered words. “As a doctor, I can understand that failures to save my patients will be inevitable at times. But not like this... not because of carelessness. ” Sigewinne bites the words out like it personally pains her to do so.
"Careless is a far cry from the way you have been treating Furina," Neuvillette says, placing a hand on her back; the weight acts as an anchor for the chaos inside her head. You must have heard her gripe about your meticulousness and strictness. Sigewinne," she grudgingly allows him to use a finger to tilt her head up so she can meet his gaze.
“What happened was an accident; you are not at fault.” She found herself enveloped in a hug, crying into the Iudex’s dress shirt.
In moments like this, Sigewinne is reminded that no matter how much she has matured and grown over the years, even to the point where she can occasionally nag him, Neuvilette will always have that effect on her and her sisters, causing them to feel like tiny hatchlings in need of their parents' comfort.
Furina awoke a little lethargic from the infection's aftereffects a week later, but she is otherwise fine. She insisted that Sigewinne not hold herself responsible for what happened, even if she was irritated that her health had deteriorated as a result of that incident, lengthening her stay at the Palais.
“Whatever, what’s happened, happened. I’m recovering, and that’s all that matters.” The lady waves off the questioning and concerned stares. However, she smiles as she looks at the twins and says, "That is one down. Any more grievances perchance?”
“No, but I do have a question……. I always wondered.” Lyney's tone falters slightly, as though he is not sure how to phrase the question. He turns to his sister and whatever he reads on her face gives him the words he’s looking for.
“Your performance, your…… opera , was it worth it?”
And wasn’t that the billion-mora-worth question?
Furina cackles again, this time with a bright, airy laugh so loud it bounces off the meeting room wall, just as it once echoed off the walls of the Opera Epiclese. One would think Lyney had told her a funny joke rather than asked her point-blank about the very traumatic bullshit she had to endure for five centuries.
It’s definitely one of the top five most fucked-up things she was asked since the flood, right up there with Lumine’s casual inquiry over her suicide attempt.
It’s so reminiscent of the way she used to laugh as the Archon that Clorinde felt chills all over, especially when she knows now how many of those times are just Furina’s way of suppressing her hurts. Furina must hold onto the table while her laughter erupts uncontrollably because she finds his sheer audacity so hilarious. However, she manages to gather herself before her nurse becomes concerned that she might choke on her breath.
“Goodness, I had not had such a good laugh in a while, ah…” She exhales, and then in the deadpan voice ever while staring into the magician’s soul, “No, Seven be damned, of course not. ”
How in the ever-loving fuck would that opera be worth the torture she went through? There’s no question of what is worth doing if there was no other choice for her to take; yes, she chose to play the role; Focalors didn’t force her per se, but then again after some long long contemplations……what other choice did she have?
Would she choose a different option if there were? No. But it’s the principle of it, that for something—for her choice to be truly worth it , shouldn’t it be if the option was something she truly wanted to choose rather than because…. There wasn’t any other to choose from.
During the climax of things, seeing her people survive a catastrophic tragedy with fewer casualties than expected, had been a relief and a whole lot of thank fuck it worked . It’s easy to get swept up in the rush of ease that all she had done finally bore fruit, a fruit that once she’d taken a bite into, tasted just only ever slightly better than any other fruit.
The gamble they took was risky; the price Furina paid to take it was steep. Sure, they won in the end, but Furina often wonders why she felt she lost more than she gained. Two months ago, her answer might have been ‘Obviously! Look around!’ but today, after weeks of therapy, waking up crying or screaming or a combination of those two, today her answer is no .
“Yet you do it anyway." Lyney retorts, confused at the contradictions.
The prophecy has passed but she’s still bleeding; likely, she won’t stop bleeding for a while longer, so how was it worth it when everyone got the happy ending they wanted but not her? How can she claim it is worth it as if what happened to her was deserved?
After all, just because something is not worth doing does not mean it should not be done.
Furina chuckles; the face in the half-emptied teacup in her hand is smiling, so unlike her yet in every way it is. “Tell me, Mister Lyney, would you bleed every drop of blood in your body for eternity and bear the agony of lifetimes of pain if it meant no harm would ever befall your siblings?” She asks him, even though she could easily predict the answer.
"Without question," the young man responds without missing a beat, oblivious to his sister's ears flattening down on her head at the statement. Nevertheless, she remains silent; after all, how can she argue when her response is the exact same, word for word?
Furina hums thoughtfully, “Would it be fair? Would it be worth it?” Her gaze on him is almost eerie as if those mismatched orbs are scrutinizing him in ways that Father never did.
The young magician swallows a gulp; somehow, he’s less confident of his answer. “Of course, why wouldn’t it be?” He looks around hoping to see some agreeable expressions only to find none. Lynette especially looks stormy; if they weren’t in public she’d probably berate him to no end for such a thoughtless answer.
“Would it really? Would it not wear you down and change who you are irreversibly? Would you not lose yourself in the madness of it? A decade, a hundred years, or five centurie s later, eternity is a long, long time. Would you not start to resent them? Wondering why it has to be you? And then the guilt hits, plaguing you with horrid thoughts for the misplaced resentment. Time will pass and it will build up again, and you will feel bad for it… again. Wash and repeat, a neverending cycle of anger, anguish and guilt….”
Somewhere between the first cup of tea and the third croissant, it’s like Furina is no longer in the room or speaking of a hypothetical.
The distant haze in her eyes and she spoke in the near out-of-body way her words spilled, no one is under illusions she’s speaking of anything but her own horrors, the lady who seems to continuously trip and fall into her web of bad memories.
For the longest time, Furina had reached blindly into the darkness and yelled, "Why me?" into the emptiness that would never respond. Seeing Lyney as he is now, consciously oblivious to what he is saying— claiming —makes her stomach turn with pity. It’s so easy to say things when you’ve never had to live through those words.
‘Oh, if only you knew,’ but it was a cruelty she wouldn’t wish on her enemies.
Furina's voice sounds monotonous and detached as she speaks, devoid of any humor altogether. “Would it be fair for them? To watch their brother suffer pain for their sake just because he’s their oldest? Would they feel that it's worth it? That their safety is worth seeing someone they love suffer a pain so cruel? ”
Speechless by her words, Lyney could only listen with something akin to horror but not quite there, an understanding perhaps of what the words meant, of the implications. She’s not speaking of hypotheticals; Furina’s words were her past, her reality for five hundred years. The painful cracks run deep; anytime they learn how deep it goes, there just seem to be lower depths to the trauma that plagues her.
“Would you be willing to put them through that? Or would you hide? Make sure they never find out. What if they did? Can you handle the betrayal they would feel at you keeping such a secret, albeit for their benefit? Can you make them carry the burden of your pain on their conscience for their sake?”
Lynette’s tail is tightly looped around her brother’s arm, her fur standing up in distress, in a room so tightly wound by Furina’s impromptu trauma-dumping a rattling sound much like a purr can be heard by those closest to her. And yet Furina seems to be blind to it despite only sitting three seats away.
“Is it worth their anger and confusion? Their horror and grief that you can’t trust them with the truth? Is all that worth it, Lyney? Truly? For you to suffer so much to keep them from one pain only for them to suffer another kind entirely…… because of you .”
“Furina,”
Neuvillete’s voice seems to call her back to reality from whatever maze of memories she’s been stuck in. The lady blinks, and a certain clarity rushes in her eyes as she gives the room a quick glancing sweep, sheepishly she lowers her head.
Her trembling hands reach for her teacup, "Ah, I got carried away; my horrors are my own. My apologies for springing that onto all of you so suddenly.” sipping tea as if she is tasting whatever is on her tongue.
“No one deserved that.” Lynette’s voice carries through the quiet room. “You didn’t deserve that.”
Furina puts down her teacup with a gentle thump as her eyes soften, “If I didn’t deserve it, then how can it be worth it?”
Lynette exhales softly, “I….I see,”
The former archon smiles, her attention flickering back to the elder twin, "Mr. Lyney, I believe you would understand better than anyone else here." she tells him, and there’s something about the way her voice trembles, just ever so lightly, with a familiar kind of vulnerability that makes Lyney think perhaps they are similar in such ways.
“That despite everything, when push comes to shove—you’ll do it anyway, won’t you? You'd do it again and again, even if you knew none of it was worth it in the end….” She swiftly reaches for his untouched cup, left empty perhaps because he prefers neither tea nor coffee or maybe he didn’t know which to choose— Isn’t it easier to choose when there’s only one option? But when presented with multiple, isn’t it harder to know which is the best? —and fills it with tea as she speaks.
Guillotine over their heads, Fontaine or Focalors, Furina wished she didn’t have to choose. In the end, it was Focalors who made the final choice for them.
“Because that’s just how we are, Lyney. We don't do these things because it's worth it; we do it because it needs to be done and the baton…..was pressed into our hands.” The small teacup filled with freshly brewed tea is served to him by a gloved hand that knows what’s it like to be the one making the harder choices.
Lyney feels a tightness in his chest. Meeting Furina’s gaze, he smiles, “What a very... human answer, for a god,” he says with a quiet laugh, and he brings the teacup to his lips.
"Have you not heard?" Furina sucks her breath in amusement at the irony of such comments and laughs. “I’ve been human for quite some time now.”
Furina's voice is heavy as she begins the next part of this trial, "Miss Navia."
Navia will be the first to admit she didn’t think how this meeting was going to go; from the Knave to the Hearths, the atmosphere has been fluctuating in waves she can’t say she could predict. Her tutors try as they might to teach her the intricacies of court politics, it just never stuck with her.
Frankly, she is looking forward to her turn; while she will not apologize for doing what she believes is necessary to save Fontaine and bring justice to those who were killed in the Poisson flood, what happened to Furina during the trial was not acceptable, and she played a role in that.
They planned the trap down to the smallest details to not hurt her; it’s a very vital point in every phase of the trap that no matter what, Furina does not actually come to harm. And it only took one swerve off the script for it to go horribly and possibly irreparably wrong. She had stood there in that crowd that day, mobilized in her own sick horror as the duel arena turned red and redder with blood.
Even her father’s duel had been less gruesome; Navia didn’t think she’d seen so much blood outside before and she had her fair share of inspecting crime scenes. So yes, what they allowed to happen to Furina is inconceivably cruel.
“I would like to formally apologize for my failings and the subsequent events leading up to your father’s sacrifice.”
So why in the Seven Archons of Teyvat is Furina apologising to her?!
“Come now Furina! That’s…ancient history. It was…. a complicated situation.” Navia coaxes her former archon; her father’s death was many things: a tragedy, the failings of Fontaine’s juridical system, a father’s sacrifice to protect his daughter, a beacon of what true justice meant…..but it was not Furina’s fault—at least, not entirely in a clean-cut way.
“Even so, I’ve done the people of Poisson and your family a great disservice. Allow me to….. To do something to atone for it.” The lady insists stubbornly, once again reaching for her files. This one is much thicker than the previous ones; on its cover page is the all-too-familiar logo of the Aquabus System Corp.
"Furina," Navia exclaims, perusing the paperwork in awe.
“I’ve been in correspondence with the Aquabus administration regarding reconstruction work on the Callas line and Lumidouce Harbor Line. Their funding problem will no longer be an issue. Lady Kamisato of the Inazuma Yashiro Commission has suggested outsourcing new technology from other nations to help with the construction, which I agree with. Perhaps maybe adding a new line as well—”
“ Furina, ”
Navia abruptly shoots up from her seat, her trembling fist slamming the files closed on the table. Furina's rambling is cut off in shock by the abrupt action, which is so different from the courteous and upbeat demoiselle.
“I almost killed you.”
The silence that follows is so quiet that one could hear a pin drop.
Furina looks at the young lady like she’s the one missing a couple of screws in her head, “No?”
The sudden declaration was so out of pocket she had to think back to when the fuck did that happened because she sure as heck didn’t remember the Spina making a move on her. Even Neuvillette looks bewildered, and he barely emotes properly.
“I did,” Navia is insisting as if Furina could get memories of her assassination attempts mixed up.
Furina levels a thinly veiled sneer towards the lady in question, “You most certainly did not , I’d remember, vividly. I remember all attempts on my life; fruitless as they are, they're not forgettable at all, I assure you.”
They make her wake up screaming with phantom pain in her throat and clawing at an injury that’s no longer there. She had panic attacks at the sight of her own shadows at times and the color crimson red, the hours she lost in her dissociations. Navia does not get to tell Furina what did or did not happen to her; Navia isn’t the one living with the trauma clouding her mind.
“If the trial happened, we would have used primordial seawater to get you to admit the truth—”
Furina groans and holds her hand up, shutting the other lady up from continuing on a useless tirade, “One, the trial didn’t happen that way; any what-ifs are irrelevant. Two, even if it did, you told me it was diluted primordial seawater; my life was never in danger. Do not insist hypothetical situations as attempts on my life; it insults me.”
"You did not know that!" sputters Navia as her face flushes in shame. “And…and you wouldn’t know it was diluted but admit you would touch it anyway, you…. How can you treat your life so flippantly like that!”
Clorinde places a hand on Navia's shoulder, pushing her back into her seat, her gaze sharp in silent warning of her outbursts. The young Spina president is getting a little too emotional, as is her tendency.
“Even if it was pure primordial seawater…… I’d doubt it could kill me; nothing could as far as I was concerned.” Furina sighs exasperatedly, muttering the last part softly to herself. “So, ergo, it makes no difference to me.”
Neuvillette and Sigewinne trade blank expressions that seem to only make sense to each other, and the smile on the doctor melusine’s face tightens. Her palm tapping a slow rhythm on Furina’s thigh, a way they discover to help her ground her mind when it feels like she might drift to places beyond external reach.
The teacup in her hand is almost breaking from the force of her grip, and Clorinde grimaces, "Please don't talk like that." Although Wriothesley remained silent, his visage conveyed his worry for Furina.
“You….how would you know that?” Lyney whispers, although his face doesn’t seem to say he wants to know the answer. His twin chastises him, "Lyney," and he sheepishly dismisses the inquiry.
He's asked enough questions with frightening answers today, and nothing she says is for the faint of heart. Even the most jaded of the Hearths and Fatui standards would squirm at her words.
"Pardon me, but I was on the verge of losing my damn mind. You try living for centuries and not want to kill yourself at some point!" scoffs Furina, crossing her arms. She looks for support by flinging a hand and pointing at Lumine.
"She's got a point," Lumine hums, nodding solemnly in accord.
"Should Paimon be concerned?" she asks, squinting her eyes.
Lumine giggles, shushing her companion, "Paimon, do not ask silly questions."
“I… you…. Lumi….” Speechless, the demoiselle can’t even string her words together at such a bizarre statement. “Are you sure you’re not…? I….”
“I’m fucked in the head; everyone here knows this. That ship has sailed and is not coming back; let's move on. Neuvillette, your judgment.” Furina shrugs, waving at the Iudex to proceed with the sentencing as they are horridly getting off-topic, the sooner they steer away from any topic of her crippling mental health, the better.
With a familiar stubbornness in her eyes, Navia raises her hand in protest. “Objection! I thought this was a trial for our actions against you, you’ve more than paid for your….. shortcomings against mine and my people.” It was identical to the one she wore as she stood at the prosecution's box and dismantled Vacher's arguments one by one.
And when did she do that ? Focalors’ plan was supposed to save everyone, no one but Furina and Focalors were supposed to pay the price of the prophecy. It was their part to play, not any other Fontainians. Where on Teyvat is this girl understanding that Furina had already paid for the blood in her ledger?
Ridiculous that a girl— her suffering doesn’t count, she suffered so they could live so why are they still dead Focalors? —a girl because such naivete can only come from a girl with more growing up to do.
A couple of dozen deaths can hardly be called shortcomings .
“Of everyone involved, your actions have the least impact on my conscience. Really, Miss Navia, if it weren’t for the Spina’s reputation, why , I would’ve even forgotten you were there!” Furina rolls her eyes, while she is amused by her ironclad stubbornness to see whatever it is she set her mind on through, this back and forth is needlessly wasting their time.
Seeing she’s still gearing up to argue, a tired sigh escapes the former archon’s lips, “Miss Navia, I am not as benevolent as you seem to think I am; my sacrifices do not absolve me of my crimes. There’s blood on my hands and I’m not naive enough to think anything I do can wash it clean, but this? Let me at least have this.”
She pushes the files of paperwork forward again, she can see Navia’s resolve crumbling as she chips at it. The young president reluctantly takes it once more, “I do not wish to let you think you owe me or my people anything more after everything. I… can’t accept that, I refuse.”
“So do I,” Furina meets her determined gaze head-on and leans back into her seat with her hands crossed, “And whoever said you are not guilty here? Iudex Neuvillette,”
“Navia Aurélie Desrosiers Caspar, current President of the Spina di Rosula and head of House of Caspar, under the charges of intentionally causing emotional distress to the former Hydro Archon of Fontaine and intending to coerce her that may have resulted in serious harm, you are guilty .”
The blonde lady hums thoughtfully as she accepts her verdict, “Huh, fair enough. What’s my sentence?”
“It will be up to the one wronged by your actions,” The Iudex nods towards Furina whose smile increasingly got smugger, “Miss Furina de Fontaine, former Hydro Archon of Fontaine. Regina of All Waters, Kindreds, Peoples, and Laws. Under the charges of failure to intervene or prevent numerous casualties with direct relations to the Prophesied Flood, you are guilty .”
Even Navia can’t deny the part Furina played in that tragedy, “I’d like to carry out my sentence and have you do yours by having you accept my help with the Aquabus System, and if it’s not too impertinent of me, I’d like to pay my respects to the victims of the Primordial Sea at the memorial site.”
The young Spina di Rosula president has a feeling she’s been hustled somehow because how is she supposed to say no to that?
“I…. of course you may pay your respects but the Aquabuses…” She’s cracking and cracking fast, under the long-suffering stares of everyone in the room, it feels futile to keep fighting on it.
Lumine clears her throat, “It is a sentence for your wrongs towards her, Navia, you’re not supposed to like them.” she has to hand it to Furina, that was sly as fuck.
Wriothesley gives a firm nod, “Besides, she’s raking it in, you’re doing well, and your lot is better off for it. All round, it’s a win-win, innit?”
“This doesn’t feel like justice,” The lady mumbles but her eyes meet Furina’s pleading ones and it pains her to deny them of anything.
“It may not be yours, but it is mine . Will you deny me my justice?”
Any argument she has flickers out like a candle in the wind, when she put it like that it'll be poor form of her to continue fighting. Navia signs and stamps the paperwork with no other fanfare, folded at those divine blubberbeast eyes like wet tissues.
“No, of course not. Very well, I accept… Furina. ” The demoiselle chuckles, to think that even she couldn't brave the former archon's persuasions.