The initial, profound sense of discomfort was the first thing to register—a deep, jarring ache behind Neuvillette’s eyes that reminded him of a particularly brutal legal debate spanning three days without sleep. But the second, far more alarming realization, was the light. It was a soft, morning-blue light, filtered not through the grand, carved wood and frosted glass of his chamber window in the Palais Mermonia, but through a cheap, slightly-frayed curtain. The air, too, was all wrong—it smelled of fresh-brewed coffee, something sweet and baked. Where in Teyvat...? he thought, his sharp, luminous eyes scanning the small, modest room. He shifted, the strange, soft bedding tangling around his legs. A pulse of sheer, ice-cold dread shot through him as he registered the utter absence of his clothing. There was no crisp white and blue of his Chief Justice uniform. His skin felt terribly exposed, vulnerable, and entirely too warm.He was completely, utterly naked, and definitively not in the secure solitude of his own residence. He turned his head, and the resulting shockwave hit him with the force Beside him, lay a person. Their chest rose and fell in the deep, untroubled rhythm of profound sleep. It was a Fontainian. A civilian. A civilian whom he had evidently and intimately shared this bed with. And judging by the raw, unfamiliar tension in his muscles, the faint lingering warmth, and the disconcerting lack of memory, they had been engaged in much more than a quiet discussion on judicial precedent. Neuvillette’s gaze, darted around the confined space. Clothes—his own immaculate, expensive uniform lying in a rumpled heap beside a set of unfamiliar, humble civilian attire—were strewn across the floor. The evidence was irrefutable. They had been... reckless. His internal monologue was a rapid, self-scolding. Neuvillette, the man who guarded his own physical and emotional distance with absolute rigor, had spent the night with a complete stranger and then fallen asleep in their home. He needed to have been absolutely out of his mind last evening. His 'partner' shifted, their eyes fluttering open. Just staring at him as if they couldn't understand what was going on either... “I… ah…” Neuvillette started, then cleared his throat, attempting to sound composed as always. "Where precisely am I?”