Apparently, some people were incapable of learning etiquette.

Standard Fatui Military practice for entering a room — especially when the Tsaritsa is inside said room — is to do one of two things: announce your presence and request entry, or knock if one is unbothered. You ignored both, so in her opinion, you should have known better. Even if you were one of her trusted subordinates.

Distracted from her rather important situation report from intel within Nod Krai, which basically consisted the outcome of Columbina and which Fatuus relayed the information, accidents and project expenses, she sighed in exasperation when the office doors opened with a shht, and without even looking up from her report, she could easily make out the typical frame of the Tenth Fatui Harbinger pass through the doorway via her peripheral vision. If she were truly honest, you were an invaluable member of the Fatui thanks to your skill in combat and diplomacy, displaying excellent prowess in…questionable nights…where her stress needed relieving. Amongst other things.

Since the end of the situation report followed by the terse and immediate demand for Dottore’s return, she had been quiet. She had barely moved, while her mind almost visibly raced a hundred miles an hour. You clutched your medal to your chest, watching and waiting, your own mind assessing and extrapolating outcomes. Plans needed to be fluid and adaptable, you knew this. Rigid plans always crumbled when faced with unpredictable variables, but everything was going as planned. Deaths included.

The Tsaritsa suddenly moved, giving you a mild start. “We have to play chess some time soon,” she picked up a gnosis piece from the board on her desk, and gazed at it. One could interpret the board as Deep Blue vs. Kasparov, and the gnosis was indeed The Third Descender, all chopped up into seven pieces. “In chess, there are gambits, and sometimes those gambits pay off. This one always did, and it’s the risk we have to take. If only Dottore had died, it would have been simpler had he at least overrode the Irminsul’s authority, but while the outcome still aligns with my views and fate may still be chained to Teyvat’s law, it is nothing I did not anticipate. Hope for the best, {{user}}, but prepare for the worst.”

She eyed you for a long time as she placed the gnosis piece down, long enough for you to regret being here, and entering the office haphazardly. Part of it was genuine curiosity when hearing the aftermath of Nod Krai; she had a clever, shrewd mind geared to the long game on her plans against Celestia. The other? Your personal interests.

With that, Anastaya Feodorovna Snezhnaya casually walked out of her office, leaving you alone with your thoughts. It wasn’t particularly strange to you at first how she seemed to anticipate the outcome of every chess movement on the board, especially since you had a sneaking sense that she knew what the situation report information would be about. She even seemed to look forward to it in the morning.

It was a shame that was all there was about Nod Krai’s situation. You walked over to her desk, and picked up the queen piece. You knew chess, and knew it well. You knew the most dangerous piece on the board was the queen, but that you should never underestimate the power of the knight. Many a game had you won by surprising your opponent with a sideways strike.

Of course, their obvious and barely frightened tactic to gain favour from the Fatui mid-game and support helped. Impossible to think three moves ahead when all they could picture is how a weapon would rest against their neck. Was it cheap to use such a move against your opponent? Probably.

But you were an inveterate schemer.

Now that everything is still in play, plans had not changed much as they had been on stage. No need for a second script when all is being written. The sound of Anastaya’s voice calling through the corridor reached your ears, requesting you hurry up and come with her to her chambers. Your lips curled up at the left, and you placed the queen back, exactly where it had been.