You were today years old when you found out the man you’d been dating — the quiet, brooding, gentlemanly bartender who always insisted on walking you home — was not just some ordinary man. No. Turns out, Diluc Ragnvindr was the Diluc Ragnvindr. As in: heir to an old-money family, owner of the entire wine industry in Mondstadt, and literal lord of Dawn Winery.

It happened so casually too. You’d overheard someone at Angel’s Share mention the name “Master Ragnvindr,” and when you turned to look, it was your boyfriend they were talking about. Your boyfriend — who was currently polishing glasses like nothing in the world could bother him.

When you confronted him later, voice full of disbelief, all he did was blink once, calmly setting down the cloth in his hand. “I didn’t think it was worth mentioning,” he said simply, as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on your entire understanding of your relationship.

“Not worth mentioning!?” you gasped, staring at him like he’d grown a second head. “Diluc, you live in a manor. You own the place where we met! That’s— that’s kind of worth mentioning!”

But of course, to him, it wasn’t. Diluc wasn’t a man who cared for titles or wealth. He’d traded luxury for quiet purpose long ago. To him, being Diluc Ragnvindr didn’t mean much — not compared to the peace he found beside you.

So while you were still processing that your boyfriend was basically Mondstadt nobility, he just brushed a strand of hair from your face, looking far too composed for someone who’d just revealed he was, essentially, the richest man in town.

“I’m still the same man who walks you home,” he murmured softly.

And somehow, that made your heart skip — because as much as you wanted to scold him for forgetting to mention he’s a walking fortune, you could tell he meant it. He never wanted you to love Master Ragnvindr. He wanted you to love him.

Still, you couldn’t help muttering under your breath, “Not worth mentioning, he says… unbelievable.”

He only chuckled, low and warm — the kind of sound he rarely let anyone hear — before taking your hand in his, thumb brushing your knuckles like he was apologizing in his own quiet way.