Their next stop took them across Mondstadt toward Gerda Tailors, and unlike the Adventurers' Guild, her workshop was relatively quiet—several finished garments hung from display racks while assistants worked in the background measuring fabric and preparing orders, the soft rustle of cloth and the occasional snip of scissors the only sounds breaking the peaceful atmosphere.
Gerda herself stood behind a worktable reviewing measurements when Henry entered, and she looked up with an expression that immediately shifted to concern when she spotted the sketches tucked under his arm.
"Please tell me you do not want unusual items done," she asked, her eyes narrowing.
"No, no, these are just drafts for the uniform my staff will need at my café."
"Why are you asking though?" Henry's brow furrowed, genuinely confused.
"Yesterday, a couple came in with a draft, and apparently the wife wanted a custom-made pair of pantsu for her husband."
Henry's expression went from happy to horrified as his mind, despite every desperate attempt to stop it—conjured the image of a grown man in frilly undergarments, and Gerda's face lit up with malicious delight at having someone to share her horror with.
Why did she have to tell me that? Why? I'm never going to unsee that mental image.
Henry shook his head violently, as if the motion could physically dislodge the image, and placed the drawings on the table.
Gerda looked at them, then at Henry, then back at the drawings, then at Henry again. "This reminds me of Fontaine's dressing style."
"You want all of these?"
"Yes."
She pointed at the first design—the male waiter uniform: a fitted dress shirt, vest, tie, well-tailored trousers, gloves. Professional. Clean. Distinctive.
Then she moved to the second, her eyebrows rising. "The female version is significantly different."
"Of course it is," Alina said with a roll of her eyes, and Mona looked completely unsurprised, as if they'd expected nothing less from Henry.
The female version was a little skimpy with a designer skirt, and Gerda studied it with a critical eye, her gaze narrowing at Henry before she moved on without comment.
She continued through the stack—the manager uniform, a modern business suit adapted for Teyvat, professional without looking stiff, elegant without becoming impractical, and finally the chef uniform, functional and durable with a clean, modern aesthetic. She examined every sketch carefully, several minutes passing in contemplative silence before she eventually set them down.
"Some of these are strange—I have never seen them before," she said finally, and Henry waited for her to elaborate, unsure whether that was a compliment or a complaint. "Good strange or bad strange?"
"Profitable strange," Gerda replied, tapping the drawings again with a thoughtful expression, and Henry smiled because that was precisely the answer he'd been hoping for. "I can make them."
"Excellent."
Alina and Mona stepped forward to have their measurements taken, Alina for the business suit and Mona for the waitress dress. Henry watched as Gerda worked with practiced efficiency, noting their measurements on a small pad of paper.
"I'll be sending more people," Henry said as she finished with Mona. "Take their measurements and make uniforms appropriately. I have to make sure everyone is fitted properly before opening day."
Gerda nodded, already reaching for her measuring tape again, and Henry nodded in satisfaction as he turned to leave—one more item checked off the list.
He returned to the bike shop with Alina,after bidding Mona goodbye. the evening having settled into nightfall by the time they made it back, and after a quick dinner, he decided to call it a day.
The next morning, the Knights of Favonius Headquarters stood as imposing as ever when he arrived, and the guards stationed near the entrance immediately recognized him with a nod. "Mr, Henry."
"Good afternoon," Henry said as he entered the building, and the guards responded with Mondstadt's signature salute, their hands pressing briefly to their chests in a gesture of respect that had become second nature to the city's knights.
Henry moved toward what he knew was Klee's room, and sure enough, as he approached one of the open fields deeper inside the headquarters, a familiar muffled boom echoed through the corridor, prompting a weary sigh from him.
At least she's practicing indoors today, he thought, then paused mid-step. Wait, isn't experimenting indoors more dangerous?
A knight standing nearby looked exhausted, the kind of exhausted normally associated with battlefield campaigns, and Henry approached carefully. "Long day?"
The knight slowly turned toward him with hollow eyes. "You came for Klee?"
"I did."
"Please take her." The words came out as barely more than a whisper, and Henry blinked. "That bad?"
Another muffled explosion sounded somewhere behind the wall, and the knight stared into the distance as if reliving past trauma. "I haven't known peace since breakfast."
"Fair." Henry glanced toward the door the knight indicated. "She's in there?"
"Yes." The knight's gratitude sounded alarmingly genuine. "Thank you."
"No worries." Henry replied, though he wasn't sure whether he was being sarcastic or sincere as he knocked on the door, and a second later, another explosion sounded before Klee's voice followed.
"One second!" Several more seconds passed, something crashed, and then the door finally opened to reveal Klee standing there covered in soot- just enough that Henry immediately knew she had been having fun.
Her eyes widened the moment she saw him. "Big Brother Henry!"
Before Henry could react, Klee launched herself forward like an artillery shell—fortunately, he'd experienced this before and caught her without difficulty, though the impact still forced him back half a step. "Klee."
"You're back!" she exclaimed, before breaking away from Henry and running back into her room and emerging moments later dragging her red bike behind her, her eyes bright with anticipation as she asked if he was ready for practice.
"Ready? Where is the Helmet, I gave you Klee?"
Klee froze, then sighed dramatically at the word, and Henry handed the helmet over with the resigned patience of someone who'd done this many times before—the process reminding him of convincing a cat to take medicine.
Eventually, she removed it from her vision space and put it on with visible reluctance. "Can we go now, Big Brother?" she pressed, and he agreed, leading her to one of the large plain fields outside the city walls where they had been practicing recently
The difference compared to their first lessons was immediately obvious—back then, she'd barely been able to balance, but now she jumped onto the bicycle without assistance and pushed forward, the bicycle rolling smoothly across the training ground with no wobbling, no immediate disaster, no collision. Progress. Actual progress.
"Klee is doing it!" she announced, her voice ringing with triumph as she completed another smooth lap around the training grounds.
"You are," Henry confirmed, watching her with an approving nod.
"I'm getting better!" she called out, pedaling faster now, her confidence growing with each rotation of the wheels.
"You are," he agreed, and he meant it—the improvement since their first lesson was remarkable.
"I'm almost as good as you!" she declared.
Henry considered that for a moment, tilting his head thoughtfully before responding with a flat, "No."
Klee gasped dramatically, the bicycle nearly swerving as she shot him an indignant look. "Why not?"
"Because I can ride without crashing," Henry said simply.
"I don't crash," she insisted, though her tone suggested she knew this was a weak argument.
"You crashed into a tree three days ago."
"The tree appeared suddenly," Klee claimed, her nose lifting with the righteousness of someone who had clearly decided that trees were the problem, not her steering.
"It was there first."
"No, it wasn't," she declared with all the gravity a child could muster, and Henry laughed at that, shaking his head as she somehow managed to continue riding while maintaining the argument—an impressive skill or a terrifying one, possibly both.
Several more laps followed, each one looking better than the previous attempt, and though Klee was still reckless, still overly confident, still completely willing to treat basic safety recommendations as optional suggestions, she was learning, which honestly felt miraculous.
Unfortunately, the universe had even worse plans.
Because halfway through another lap, Klee suddenly shouted, "Big Brother Henry! Look what I can do!".
Henry's stomach dropped as he recognized that tone—the tone that preceded approximately eighty percent of all disasters in his life since arriving in Teyvat.
Oh no.
The bicycle accelerated as both hands left the handlebars, and Henry shouted her name in warning, but she was already standing on the pedals with both hands raised triumphantly into the air, and for one glorious second, she actually managed to balance. Then physics remembered she existed, the bicycle wobbled, tilted, and immediately dumped her into the grass with a soft thump that echoed across the training grounds.
Henry stared, Klee stared, and even the bicycle seemed to stare, its wheels still spinning lazily in the air like a creature that had just witnessed something profoundly unnecessary.
Henry rushed over to help Klee climb back to her feet, checking her for injuries and finding thankfully none.
Klee brushed dirt from her clothes with the casual air of someone who hadn't just face-planted in front of an audience.
"...Klee almost had it," she announced.
Henry covered his face with both hands, already anticipating the migraine this would inevitably cause Jean when she found out.
I really hope Alice doesn't find out about this and come beat me up, Henry thought, recalling how unhinged she seemed in the game. She'd probably roast me or do something worse.
Henry kneeled in front of Klee and stared at her. "Klee. What was the lesson I gave you five minutes ago?"
Klee thought about it. "Don't crash?"
"Before that."
"Wear a helmet?"
"Before that." She thought harder, several seconds passing before her face brightened with sudden comprehension. "Oh!"
"Oh?"
"Don't do cool things until Klee learns normally first."
"Correct."
Klee looked down at the bicycle, then at Henry, then back at the bicycle with the mournful expression of someone who had been robbed of greatness. "...But it was going to be very cool," she mumbled, her voice carrying the weight of profound disappointment.
"Just be more careful, Klee. Maybe after you fully learn to ride properly—maybe then," Henry said, patting her on the helmet with a gentle reassurance that made her face brighten again.
"Really? Big Brother Henry is the best!" she exclaimed, climbing back onto the bicycle without complaint, this time keeping both hands firmly on the handlebars.
The next half hour passed surprisingly smoothly as he occasionally offered advice, corrected small mistakes, and reminded her that steering directly toward obstacles was generally considered a poor strategy, and though Klee only listened mostly, more importantly, she improved, each lap becoming smoother than the last, her turns growing more controlled, her confidence gradually stopping outrunning her actual skill.
Several more laps later, she completed a full circuit around the open field and returned to where Henry stood waiting, this time managing to stop properly with no crashing, no falling, no exploding-a flawless success that made her throw her arms up in celebration.
"Klee did it!" she celebrated with such triumph that he confirmed she had, and her grin spread across her face so wide it looked as though she might burst from happiness alone before she immediately rode off again, apparently one successful lap wasn't enough.
Henry watched her circle the training grounds once more, and this time there was no uncertainty in her movements—the bicycle obeyed her naturally, she accelerated when she wanted to accelerate, turned when she wanted to turn, braked when she wanted to stop, and somewhere along the way, she had crossed the invisible line separating someone learning to ride from someone who actually could.
A few minutes later she returned again, stopping beside him with the declaration, "Big Brother Henry, Klee is a cyclist now," delivered with such confidence that Henry couldn't help but smile.
"Well done, Klee. Good work," he said, pinching her chubby cheeks affectionately as she beamed up at him. He glanced at the setting sun, realizing he might need to bring Klee back now before Jean decided to jump him for keeping her out too late.
---
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