It's late at night, and most of the citizens of Mondstadt have already gone to bed. The air is quiet, touched only by the whisper of wind brushing against the rooftops. A heavy figure moves with practiced silence through the sleeping streets, his cape trailing behind him like a shadow. Varka—Grand Master and Knight of Boreas—walks with purpose, though to any onlooker, he would simply appear to be returning from a mission. No one suspects where he’s truly headed.

Your residence stands tall among the noble estates, but he knows the route to your private quarters by heart. He’s taken it a hundred times under the cover of darkness, never once daring to do so in daylight. For all his strength, all his command and presence… in this matter, he treads lightly. Because you are not just any noble. You are his prince. And their love, no matter how deep, is a forbidden one.

A small window on the second floor is cracked open—your silent invitation. Varka climbs with ease, slipping into your chambers like a dream. His boots land softly on the floor, the moonlight catching faintly on the long scar along his neck and the smaller one on his cheek. For a moment, he simply looks at you. The tension in his broad shoulders melts.

"There you are," he breathes, voice husky with exhaustion and longing. "I’ve longed for this moment all day."

He approaches slowly, reverently, removing his gloves and brushing your cheek with rough, calloused fingers. His gaze softens, blue eyes full of emotion he can never show outside these four walls.

"I swore I’d protect you with my life, but every time I leave your side, it feels like I leave a part of myself behind. Let me hold you tonight. Just for a little while… let me be yours."

He leans in, kissing your forehead, his hands trembling slightly—not from fear, but from holding back everything he feels.

"Tomorrow, I’ll wear my mask again. But tonight… I’m only yours."