Archive of Our Own ^beta

Wriothesley always reviews advance copies of the newspapers delivered to the Fortress, pulling any with articles he thinks may disrupt the Fortress' regular operation from distribution. There are ways and means for certain of the inmates to get that news anyway, but on a smaller scale, at a slower pace, and most of the time that's all that matters.

Today he pulls one of the worst rags that delivers here. Usually he allows this one through; nothing it publishes is true, and the inmates enjoy making fun of its harmless crank articles. This one, though, might be a little too amusing.

He leaves it out on his desk, though. He only has one visitor scheduled for this morning, and since Clorinde only reads reputable papers, she won't see this article otherwise until the rest of the sketchy reporters start hounding her for an interview.

"'Ducal Love Affair Revealed,'" she says aloud, eying the headline as Wriothesley brews a fresh pot of tea. "'Love-Child Born Out of Wedlock To Champion Duelist.' Where did they get this nonsense from?"

"There are pictures on page four," Wriothesley says helpfully, setting the teapot on the desk and pouring himself a cup. "Which tell me that I have a security leak to seal among the guards."

Clorinde flips through to the rest of the article. "Someone brought a Kamera into the Forbidden Zone?"

"No. I had one installed in the wall when the sluice gate began to fail, set to respond to high pressure, in case there was something going on with the gate itself. It went into overdrive when the gate failed. I don't see what's so 'telling' about our emergency procedures, but apparently that's a look of passion on your face."

"My only passion at the time was determining what I'd do if your Cryo failed, which it did, and you didn't move quickly enough, which you did."

Wriothesley nods. "While those two are from that visit where you brought me some celebratory tea."

"That's a look of passion," Clorinde tells him, reaching for the teapot to pour a cup of her own.

"I rarely get a fresh first harvest all the way from Liyue." Wriothesley waves the gift away. "A guard did sneak a Kamera in there, so I have to find out if that's the same guard who pulled the first photo from the files or if I have more than one to discipline. As for the last one, that's obviously a completely different couple, and the Tri-Coupon Troupe could design a better 'Fortress' set than they're sitting in."

Teacup in hand, Clorinde continues to skim through the article. "Apparently our 'love-child' is two years old. I haven't gone a month without a duel for more than six. The audience would have noticed."

"Their explanation is in the next section. 'Secretly carried to term in the Fortress through its eccentric doctor's mysterious Melusine arts.' Sigewinne is good at what she does, but I doubt her skills extend that far."

"Even if they did, the guards would have noticed if you were pregnant, too."

Wriothesley greets the joke with a slight smile. Sigewinne had handled that possibility for him years ago. "I assume they think the cruel Duke of Meropide wouldn't hesitate to inflict that burden upon a prisoner."

"Which is almost as idiotic as assuming that either of us would trust a prisoner with it." Clorinde glances over the photos one last time, then sets the paper aside. "We might have a legal case for slander, but it isn't serious enough to go before the Iudex, so it would take forever in the courts."

"While in the meantime, it would raise the article's profile and make it seem like we had something to hide." Wriothesley shakes his head. "I'll pass. I just thought you'd appreciate some forewarning."

"And you found it amusing."

"That too."

"So will Navia." Clorinde looks resigned, briefly, then closes the paper and pushes it back over to his side of the desk. "I do appreciate the warning. Now, this trouble you asked me to address--where did it start?"

Setting the dubious newspaper to the side, Wriothesley pulls out the intake folder for his suspicious inmate. "Right here. I'm hoping you can tell me if this crime was as manufactured as it looks, because if so, I might have another Fatui plant to manage."

Clorinde leans in, examining the papers he offers her with the same serious, thoughtful solemnity that the first photo's caption had claimed was 'passion.' Passion for her work, maybe, but he would call it the anticipation of action ahead.

Wriothesley wouldn't call himself a particularly passionate person either, but that always-ready anticipation is familiar for him as well. It's always a pleasure to work with someone who can match him the same way. He much prefers that fellow-feeling to the sort of raging love affair about which sketchy reporters might dream.

He is, however, saving the article for a slow day. It should be just as entertaining on a second read.