On the day of Chisato's wedding, you braced yourself for the weight that would lay upon your ascension to the highest seat of the Kanjou Commission. It frightened you. The idea of being Ayato's equal in terms of rank had been a fantasy. Now, the title was only one ceremony away. All you had to do was give Chisato's hand, and you were officially going to fulfill your role as the spare.

You doubted your parents and Chisato's father would be very happy once they caught on. Nevertheless, it was no longer in their power to stop you. You would be the head. You would have the last say in every decision. The thought of having the power to control a fraction of Teyvat's economy as well as the flow of supplies and outlanders made you shiver.

Ayato deliberately avoided you the whole morning and when you did cross paths, he regarded you with nothing but the permanent polite smile he constantly plastered on his face. He had forced himself to shut you out. Now that the wedding was in motion, he clearly did not want anything to do with you anymore.

"Heizou predicts that if Tenshukaku finds out that this wedding is an elopement, chaos will ensue."

A composed face painted your features so that Aether wouldn't see how worried you were. If word got out that all three heads of the Tri-Commission were involved, it was going to get messy. Could an elopement destroy the Shogun's pursuit of eternity? You felt sick.

"Reports say they don't take you seriously. You're the youngest, so they don't think you're a good leader."

"I'm aware," you said. "The Kanjou Commission could use some softening up. Everyone thinks we're too harsh."

Outlanders like Aether might not understand just how big of an impact this could cause, but every political clan did.

"It's inevitable someone got married," you continued. "Our connections directly influence our commissions, thereby affecting Inazuma."

"So if the Kanjou Commission and the Tenryou Commission got into a fight, the economy and the security clash too, Lady Hiragi?"

You nodded, thinking over the ramifications. Once you were vulnerable, the weaker clans would try to usurp your power. The pretty picture that you and Ayato worked hard to paint together would vanish in the blink of an eye and your engagement would have all been for nothing. One of you had to be wed, and that was going to be Chisato.

"You can call me F/N," you told Aether with a rare note of warmth. "Please."

You smiled, not too much that made you seem overly eager but not too little that it made you look disinterested. Aether's friendship would be a useful investment for the Kanjou Commission. Connections meant power. Power meant stability. Stability meant that your people would live in peace and balance for the duration of your reign. Your spine crawled. This was exactly what Ayato had done to you.

Laughter greeted you when you returned to Konda Village. You expected to find Ayato as he left you, solemn and dull, but instead, he was conversing with Kujou Kamaji's officers. He didn't look the least bit bothered about the Tri-Commission. This was all in a day's work for him. You still had so much to learn.

"Lady Hiragi," he greeted, bowing. As though you hadn't been swapping spit last night. "I take it that Heizou has informed you of some, ah, minor setbacks?"

"Lord Kamisato, I would not refer to them as minor. And it was not Heizou who informed me, it was the Traveler."

Ayato let his gaze linger on you for a few moments more than necessary. A brief flash of annoyance coursed through him. So the Traveler was still close to you. He would take note of that.

"Once they're married, there's nothing the rest of the Tri-Commission can do about it but accept," he explained. "Your reputation and mine are good enough that we can get out of this unscathed, as well as Chisato and Kamaji. Fear not."

You had to get ready and help Chisato into her dress soon, but your feet wouldn't move. Neither would Ayato, both waiting to see who would leave first as though to confirm the other's suspicions that the other hated them. You hated the restless, uncomfortable stretch as you left. You and Ayato always had an unspoken agreement to return to your somewhat friendly terms every time you fought, but it seemed like there was no moving past this. Without meaning to, Ayato's gloved fingers twitched, the subtlest motion, at his side when your eyes met. Something rose in you. Useless hope. He dangled everything in front of you like a loose thread.

"I don't doubt you," you finally said. Ayato crossed his arms, self-assured. You weren't going to stick around and listen to him gloat. "I suppose I should say thanks, Lord Kamisato."

Your fan hung from your waist as you left.

"Are you nervous?" you asked as you delicately arranged Chisato's hair. She was shaking like a leaf.

"I don't know if this is the right thing to do," she said quietly. "I rushed into this."

You weren't good with comforting words, but you attempted to soothe her anyway. You'd heard brides got irrational fears before walking down the aisle; this was likely the case.

"I didn't give enough thought. When Lord Kamisato offered, I didn't think it would escalate to this."

"He was looking out for you," you said. It felt like breathing fire with every false compliment about Ayato. "He only wanted to help."

"This is another one of his political moves, isn't it?" Chisato asked fearfully. "He's plotting something, the Kanjou Commission said he was."

"Don't talk about Ayato like that," you snapped, momentarily forgetting you loathed his face. "This was your decision too."

You had a strange urge to defend him. You knew something everyone else did not, and Ayato had done this because you felt imprisoned in your engagement. Not that you were going to tell them, but it annoyed you to hear them speak ill about him. You were almost jealous that others had that right. But deep inside, you knew that he must have ulterior motives too. He didn't stick his services in places where there was nothing to gain. You begrudgingly had to respect his craftiness.

"How long have you two known each other?" Chisato asked suddenly. When you were confused, she repeated, "Kamaji and I only started corresponding right before the Sakoku Decree was lifted. That's not enough time. We don't know each other that well yet."

"Me and Ayato being childhood friends change nothing," you lied defensively. Friend isn't the right word to describe what you have ever been to me.

Chisato was silenced for the rest of the morning.

As you were to reluctantly sit with Ayato in a show of combined support from the Tri-Commission, you made your way over to him. He reciprocated your bow and when you came back up, he was offering his arm. He knew how much you complained about the weight of dresses in private—not that he was going to tell you now. It would be rude to refuse his hand in front of everyone, so you took it and ignored the urge to flee. Everyone else was chatting excitedly, but you were both silent. Not one to be impolite, he initiated a conversation.

"You look..." he trailed off.

"Hideous, horrendous, horrible," you listed without missing a beat. "And those are only the adjectives that begin with an H."

"Absolutely," Ayato said. "Let's not forget horrid."

Trying to be angry at him now was like trying to light up wet firewood. It just wouldn't ignite.

Silence. It wasn't awkward silence; it was the comforting silence of being with someone who knew you well enough to know what you were going to say next, reducing the pressure to talk.

"You do dress nicely," Ayato admitted carefully. "Fitting for an occasion such as this."

"I know you hate small talk," you said. "But thank you."

You lapsed into silence once more as the ceremony began. Boring, irrelevant people began the procession. The only person all awaited was the bride. A pang of envy overwhelmed you. It droned on until Ayato spoke again.

"It would best for us both to be able to hold a conversation civilly."

You threw him a look. "Why?"

"You know why, Lady Hiragi. Everything between us is strictly professional from here on out."

"I understand," you said, annoyed. You wanted the conversation to end. Before you could say more, the ceremony fell into a hush.  Kamaji and Chisato took their places under the arch. Her hand trembled visibly. Kamaji glanced at her in worry as he repeated his vows. The priest turned to Chisato. In the corner of your eye, you saw Ayato slightly raise an eyebrow in observation. You couldn't blame him. Even you could tell that something was about to happen.

"Repeat after me: This man I marry in sickness and health, whom I will always love and respect."

Chisato quavered. "This man I marry in sickness and in... this man, whom I will marry in health—"

The priest repeated the vows. She stuttered them in broken phrases.

"Chisato," Kamaji whispered under his breath. "Are you alright?"

She looked like a deer in the range of arrows. "I..."

You and Ayato exchanged a look.

"This man, I marry in sickness and in health," Chisato repeated slowly. She was turning pale. "I...Kamaji, I'm sorry—"

She began to back away. Murmurs broke among the crowd. You rose from your seat in concern. Chisato turned to see you next to Ayato, and some switch seemed to flip in her head. She let out a sob and ran off to everybody's shock. When you tried to find her, she disappeared.

Footsteps sounded from behind and you knew that someone was coming after you to inquire about what just happened. Aether appeared, and even Paimon couldn't seem to say anything.

"Do you want me to go after her?" he asked quizzically. "Maybe I can—"

"You shouldn't," you said with finality. "Chisato rushed into this. Now she's rushing right back out."

"Maybe she'll come around."

You shook your head. "I know her."

"Then... what about the rest of this?"

Aether was referring to the fact that Inazuma was one letter away from finding out about the failed elopement, and if there was no union happening that would allow you to solidify any real connections, hell was going to break loose. A small, minuscule part of you worried about Ayato's standing. Maintaining his clan's stability was a duty he took to heart. You quickly burst it. He was going to be fine. You were not.

The Tenryou Commission officers glared when you returned to Konda Village, as though it was your fault. You hadn't seen this particular breed of superiority since the time before getting engaged to Ayato, and you weren't surprised they hadn't changed.

"Sir Kujou had to go against the wishes of Madam Kujou Sara, did you know that?" one officer snapped. "To wed your crime-ridden cousin and establish himself under your family's name."

"I cannot recall a single Inazuman tradition wherein brides ask the groom to marry," you said placidly, like you were speaking to a child. "You may ask Sir Kujou whether he wishes to continue this ceremony or not, but I doubt he will listen to an officer over his lover."

"Hiragi, you will go back and force your cousin to marry now."

"Lady Hiragi," you corrected.

"I told Sir Kujou not to fraternize with them," one of the officers hissed to the other, clearly wanting you to hear. "The Kanjou and Yashiro Commissions are scum, they always have been, especially now with Kamisato Ayato as the head."

"You're right," the other said. He sneered at you. "The girl is no power, but the Yashiro Commissioner? He'll be ruined, just as he and his family deserve."

Your blood drained with fury, unlike anything you felt when you fought with Ayato. Real, pure hatred that was not built on borderline teasing and affection. This time, you wanted to see them pay dearly for offending someone they hardly even knew.

"You will not insult Kamisato Ayato in front of me," you snapped. "And my cousin will marry when she is ready. She is not. Sir Kujou rushed to propose and she rushed to say yes."

"Sir Kujou did not—"

"I will be sure to inform Kujou Kamaji of your words against his good friend. Once you're fired, perhaps you can find peace with ronins on the beach."

Their complexions became pale. You narrowed your eyes and lifted your skirt to leave, not having anything left of worth to say. It was no wonder their clans wanted Ayato gone. He had grace and dignity. He kept his cards close to his chest because it allowed him to play his ace well. He paid attention to political detail as you did. In breaking apart your engagement, he had never underestimated you; he just gave you a chance. You wished you never knew how kind he could be when he wanted; it hurt to know that such a heart didn't belong to you.

The Yashiro Commission guards let you enter Ayato's makeshift office without so much as an interrogation. They knew who you were.

"Lord Kamisato," you greeted, bowing slowly.

When Ayato looked up, he looked good as ever. The only thing that suggested he was working diligently was the mess of papers strung around his desk. He'd gone to work with his Plan Bs and Cs as soon as things went south. You didn't know why he was still getting involved when he could easily sit back and watch his enemies burn. Thoma, who had been quietly organizing the papers, easily bowed and left. He spared you a half-smile before leaving.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Lady F/N?"

You swallowed. "I just wanted to apologize."

Now Ayato looked genuinely perplexed. "For what?"

"Everything." You wanted to maintain your honor no matter what. "This... thing you didn't want. Chisato's behavior. I'm sorry for the unnecessary trouble my being in your life has caused the Kamisato Clan."

His face remained impassive.

"I'll take full responsibility. When I do find someone to wed, I will ensure that none of it has to involve the Kamisato Clan. Thank you for your time."

His eyes calculated the cost of what you were offering. You steeled your resolve and silently nodded, sealing your unspoken agreement. You bowed again and left the room before anything else could be said.

The cot was cold that night when you slept.

By the next morning, your cousin was still missing.

You decided to walk home. It would look wasteful to use a carriage for such a short distance. Guards were required to trail you front and back. Your footsteps washed away on the beach as you trudged back to Ritou. You regarded the spot where you had stood with Ayato on the beach.

Maybe he did care for you, but if that couldn't withstand political opinion, then you could never withstand the same alone.

For the rest of the week, Chisato didn't show up and your parents were in Inazuma City. Nobody knew about the failed elopement yet, but once it got out, they would be the first to know. Typically you'd be content alone, but you felt lonely. A familiar, crumbling sensation crept into your heart and squeezed. Every color in Ritou seemed bleak and gray. Like you had lost a part of yourself. To know that everyone wanted nothing to do with you. Again.

You hated Ayato for making you feel this way. You hated his pompous smirk and the ludicrous beauty mark under his lips. You hated the way he treated you like his little plaything, a jester in his high court. He got under your skin without even trying. You hated the way your stomach flipped every time you replayed your kisses in your head. The very thought of him sent you into a spiral you just couldn't recover from because he always occupied your thoughts.

"Are you alright, my lady?" the chambermaid asked, lowering your hand into the hand spa. You jerked out of your thoughts, accidentally splashing incense on her sleeve.

"I'm sorry," you said. "I wasn't paying attention."

She sent you a knowing smile. "Lord Kamisato must be dear to you if his absence bothers you so much."

"He's not..."

"My lady, it's okay to be shy about it. You don't have to explain."

However, despite her efforts, you knew what she did not. Somehow you couldn't help but feel like this was all your fault, and now there was nothing left for you to do except salvage what you could in the shipwreck that was sinking to the bottom of a deep, dark ocean. You were the spare. The coin had been flipped, and you had lucked out like no member of the nobility had ever done so before. You sunk your head under the warm water and braced yourself for what was yet to be commissioned of you.