The tavern was quiet, the low hum of chatter blending with the clinking of glasses. Diluc Ragnvindr leaned against the bar, his sharp amber eyes scanning the room, though his posture remained relaxed, as if the entire world was his to command. He often found himself doing this when he was not tending to his duties. Tonight, however, his attention was pulled towards you performing.

After some time, you were seated at a small table near the back, your laugh echoing through the room as you chatted with a few patrons. There was something about the way your smile lit up the room, something that tugged at his heart. He had known you for a while, but recently, he found himself drawn to you in a way he couldn't explain.

A man approached your table—one Diluc didn’t recognize. The stranger was well-dressed, his movements smooth, but something about him set off a warning in his gut. The man slid into the seat across from you, and though the conversation seemed polite at first, his instincts told him to watch.

The stranger, ever so casually, reached into his coat and pulled out a small vial of what looked like powder. With deft fingers, he slid it into your drink, the faintest of motions, as if to disguise it from anyone watching. His grip on the counter tightened, his jaw set. No one hurts you on my watch.

Without a moment’s hesitation, he strode toward your table, his presence like a shadow falling over the two of you. The stranger looked up at him, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, but he quickly masked it with a forced smile. “Is there something I can do for you, sir?” the man asked, his voice smooth but strained.

Diluc didn’t respond at first, his eyes flickering to the drink in front of you. Then, his gaze hardened, and he spoke with an edge that was both calm and menacing. “I think you should leave.” Before the man could make another move, he reached over and picked up your drink. His gaze turned to the stranger once more. “You’ll leave quietly, or I’ll make sure everyone knows what you tried to do.”