King put down the madeleine cake in his hand, withdrew his gaze from outside the window, and scanned the table.
Then he spoke, his voice as calm as water:
"By the way, did any of you bring money?"
The table instantly fell silent.
Venti's hand, holding a croissant, froze mid-air.
His emerald eyes blinked, and then he turned quite naturally to Neuvillette beside him.
"Ehe~"
He gave a harmless smile.
"A Bard usually only brings poems and a wine flask when going out; as for a vulgar thing like Mora..."
Venti spread his hands, feigning innocence.
"I've never been one to carry it."
Neuvillette's cane tapped lightly against the edge of the table.
He was silent for two seconds, then shook his head.
"I left in a hurry this morning and did not prepare any."
After saying that, his gaze turned toward Wriothesley.
Wriothesley was holding a coffee cup, taking an elegant sip.
Feeling three pairs of eyes fall on him simultaneously, the hand holding his coffee cup paused.
"Neuvillette... why are you looking at me too?"
The corner of Wriothesley's eye began to twitch.
"I was called out by you early this morning."
"I hadn't even gotten out of bed before you dragged me to the Opera Epiclese."
"Do you really think I'd be carrying money?"
The four of them looked at each other.
Silence.
A long silence.
Neuvillette's brow furrowed.
"No, we must find a way."
He spoke decisively, "We absolutely cannot dine and dash; it goes against Fontaine's laws."
Wriothesley glanced at him, his tone carrying a hint of teasing: "Then what do you plan to do? You can't just conjure Mora out of thin air, can you?"
Neuvillette fell silent.
Venti continued to mutter on the side: "How about... I sing a song to pay the debt?"
King couldn't help but rub his temples.
The fontaines strongest man, the Elemental Dragon King, one of the seven sovereigns, plus the Duke of Meropide Hold.
Four people combined couldn't produce enough money for a single breakfast.
Who would believe this if it were told?
Just then.
Within King's perception, he suddenly captured an extremely complex fluctuation of emotions.
That gaze was projected from a corner near the window.
Complex, deep, and carrying a hint of inexplicable resentment.
King turned his head.
In the corner by the window, at a large dining table, sat only one man.
He was wearing orange casual clothes and a wide-brimmed hat, the brim pulled low, covering most of his face.
A cup of coffee and a half-eaten exquisite breakfast sat before him.
At that moment, the man slowly raised his head.
Beneath the brim, a young face was revealed.
Short orange-red hair, sharp grey-blue eyes, and a bitter smile playing on his lips.
It was Tartaglia.
"Found by you again, Mr. King."
His voice wasn't loud, yet it clearly reached everyone's ears.
Neuvillette's gaze instantly sharpened.
He stood up, his cane tapping lightly on the floor with a dull thud.
"Tartaglia."
His voice was as cold as winter seawater.
"No, the Eleventh of the Fatui Harbingers, Childe."
"Why have you appeared in Fontaine?"
"No prior application, no diplomatic note, no entry permit."
Neuvillette said "no" three times in a row, his gaze piercing toward Tartaglia like a blade.
"You should know what it means for a Fatui Harbinger to enter the country without authorization or declaration."
Tartaglia, however, showed no signs of tension.
He picked up the coffee in front of him and took a leisurely sip.
Then he put down the cup, raised his head, and met Neuvillette's gaze.
"Lord Neuvillette, I have no ill intent, so don't be so tense."
Neuvillette's frown deepened.
"State your purpose quickly."
Tartaglia was silent for two seconds.
"I'm just here to find someone."
"A Fatui Harbinger running to Fontaine to find someone?"
Neuvillette repeated, his tone carrying obvious disbelief.
Tartaglia ignored him and instead turned to look at King.
"My master, Skirk, has appeared near here recently."
"I came here wanting to follow in her footsteps."
He paused, a self-deprecating smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"I know this sounds like an excuse."
"But it's the truth."
King looked at Tartaglia.
Their gazes met in the air.
A few seconds later, King spoke.
"How long have you been in Fontaine?"
"Arrived just half an hour ago."
"When are you leaving?"
"I'll leave as soon as I find my master."
"You won't cause trouble in Fontaine?"
Tartaglia smiled, his smile carrying a hint of helplessness.
"Mr. King, I haven't lived long enough yet."
King nodded and withdrew his gaze.
"Neuvillette, let him stay."
Neuvillette was slightly startled but then nodded.
"Very well."
Tartaglia watched this scene, the corners of his mouth turning up.
The feeling of being trusted by Mr. King was truly good.
"Mr. King."
He stood up and walked over to King's table.
Then he pulled out a bulging coin pouch from his robes.
"To celebrate our long-awaited reunion."
"May I treat you to this meal?"
Venti's eyes instantly lit up.
"Boss, ten more croissants and two bottles of Fonta!"
Tartaglia glanced at him speechlessly, the corner of his mouth twitching.
"You guy..."
Venti acted as if he hadn't heard, waving his hand to call the server.
Neuvillette silently sat back in his original spot, his expression serious, his tense shoulders showing he hadn't relaxed.
Wriothesley picked up his coffee and took an elegant sip.
Breakfast was finally taken care of.
If the story of dining and dashing ever got out, he'd be teased to death by that little Melusine at home.
King gave Tartaglia a faint glance.
"Your master, Skirk."
"What is she doing in Fontaine?"
Tartaglia answered with a serious expression: "I don't know."
He spoke honestly.
"After Master finished teaching me her skills, she left."
"Since then, I have never seen her again."
"This time, I happened to receive a bit of a lead that she had come near Fontaine, so I followed to take a look."
"If I can see her, I want to continue learning more martial arts."
Tartaglia: "I want to become stronger."
He didn't say why he wanted to become stronger.
King didn't ask either.
Venti curiousy leaned in: "Skirk? I heard she can come and go as she pleases in the Abyss; is that true?"
Tartaglia looked at him and nodded.
"It's true."
"Master is very strong."
"Stronger than me."
When he said this, a complex light flashed in his eyes.
There was awe, longing, and a hint of unyielding stubbornness.
Wriothesley put down his coffee cup and spoke calmly: "A master who can make a Fatui Harbinger travel thousands of miles to chase after them certainly sounds extraordinary."
Neuvillette gave a disdainful snort and said nothing.
Lilith quickly brought out the freshly made set meals, steaming hot and fragrant.
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