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Even as a child, Jean studies her own heart, trying to learn what makes it beat. To serve Mondstadt, she has to love it, for the stories say that so have all who have served it best. And how can she love it when she doesn't even know what love is?
"Love is a promise you make to another person," Jean's mother tells her while tucking her into bed, when Jean is still young enough for that indulgence. "A promise to care for and protect each other, in a way that suits your own abilities and fulfills their needs."
"But the book I read today said that love came in a flash," Jean protests. "And Father told us that he knew you were the woman for him as soon as he saw you."
Her mother goes still, for just a moment, then returns to smoothing Jean's blanket down. "That wasn't love, it was a crush. The promise came later, once we had grown together, and learned what work and how much of it we would need to keep it."
"But did one of you break it, then?" Jean asks, quietly, knowing this is shaky ground. She can't resist the question, though. That kind of self-control she has yet to develop. "Is that why Father and Barbara left?"
"No." Her mother, who does possess the famed Gunnhildr control in full, sounds calm when answering. "We decided, together, that my duties and his holy calling meant that neither of us had the ability anymore to fulfill the other's needs, and so we absolved each other of our promise."
"Oh." Jean considers this a moment. In later years she'll wonder if that was an honest answer, but at this age she still takes everything she's told as truth. "Love sounds way too complicated."
"It can be difficult to navigate," her mother says. "But at times, it's very worthwhile. After all, love brought me you."
Then she leans down and kisses Jean's forehead, which she does less and less as Jean gets older, before wishing her a good night and leaving the room. Jean lies there in the dark, the warmth from the kiss seeming to linger on her skin, and tucks the conversation away to keep safe and secret in her heart.
It does sound far too complicated to her, though. And far too practical. Her own love, she already knows, is warmer and simpler than that.
***
Despite the wagging tongues of the Mondstadt gossips, Jean is never in love with Diluc. She knows the risks of it too well. Though some may dream of how it would strengthen Mondstadt, joining the Gunnhildr family's knightly legacy and the Ragnvindr family's fortunes, it would accrue far too much power to their united line. Jean and Diluc might only want the best for Mondstadt, but what of their children, and their children's children? Jean will not give birth to any dynasty that might take Mondstadt's freedom away.
That doesn't mean that she never has a crush on him. Diluc is a very attractive man, and he manages to somehow be so even in the depths of puberty, when he's at his gangliest and clumsiest. Every girl in Mondstadt looks longingly at Diluc, and the only one he seems to even consider looking back at is Jean. But she remembers her mother's words, and makes no promises that are not of friendship and mutual loyalty.
(It helps that Diluc has been a friend since childhood. All she has to do is remember him pouring slime condensate into her hair when they both were five, and the flash of feeling that his porcelain face and long-limbed elegance evoke dissolves away.)
When Diluc returns from his years abroad, Jean braces herself for the resurgence of her feelings, and she does still feel a pang at the sight of that delicate beauty. But she can tell from the few brief words they exchange that their needs and abilities have, in those years apart, become completely mismatched. All she feels anymore is concern for him, regret for the Knights' loss and for his own pain, and the hope that perhaps in time they can resume a friendship that will help ease it.
"Who was that man who came to visit you?" Lisa asks shortly after he departs, arriving in Jean's office with a tray of tea. "He barely spoke a word to anyone, and I would swear Captain Alberich was hiding out in the library. He certainly wasn't doing anything useful in there."
It's a little early for their afternoon tea, and Jean is surprised to see Lisa here already. She supposes that curiosity would explain it, though.
"That's Diluc Ragnvindr," she explains, as Lisa begins to set out the tea utensils. "He used to be a Knight. The last cavalry captain, in fact. The circumstances there, and his connection to Kaeya, are... a very sad story. And not mine to tell."
"Is that so?" Lisa asks, setting a plate with scones and cookies before Jean and beginning to pour the tea. "Then I won't pry. But surely that's not all he is to you? You ran so swiftly down to greet him."
"No, it's not," Jean confesses. She can feel her face heating, for if Lisa noticed then the other Knights will have too. Lisa's attention seems to sharpen on her at sight of the blush. "We were friends when we were young, and are still friends now. Or so I hope, but he was here for his Vision, so it wasn't the right time to reminisce."
"Good friends?"
"Neither of us had many others we could play with, except Kaeya, and he came along much later. But it was a good friendship, once we got over our rough start." At Lisa's raised eyebrow, she elaborates, "The first time we were introduced, Diluc put slime in my hair."
Lisa laughs, and Jean smiles in answer to that lovely sound.
"Not an intimate friendship, then."
"Nothing of the sort," Jean says. "We were good friends, and we worked well together as Knights. But whenever people make insinuations about us, all I can think of is my mother having to cut half my hair off because the slime had dried in it. That doesn't fill me with romantic feeling."
"Aww, and here I'd hoped to hear the tale of your torrid affair," Lisa says, with an exaggerated pout, and it's Jean's turn to laugh.
She keeps laughing throughout that day's tea-time, sharing more tales of childhood adventures and hearing Lisa's own silly stories in exchange. By the end of it, Jean's regrets and worries about Diluc have faded--not banished, but shrunken down to a more proportional size, and able to be put aside until there's something actionable that she can do about them. The Knights have to come first, after all.
Lisa has a satisfied smile on her lips as she gathers up the tea things and readies herself to leave. Jean's glad. Even if she hadn't been able to offer the gossip Lisa wanted, it seems that the conversation they did have has brightened her day. And it was exactly what Jean needed to lift her own spirits, too.
***
(Jean also has a crush on Grand Master Varka, in her early days. Her mother had warned her to expect it. Despite his age, he's still a handsome man, tall and powerful, with an easy laugh. He knows his own strength, and is always gentle when he squeezes her shoulder in encouragement or invites her to cross blades.
By the time she's Master of Knights, his second-in-command, the shine has worn off. She can see where his easygoing leadership is failing the Knights, where duties fall through the cracks and civilians take the brunt of it. His hand is still perfectly firm on her shoulder as he stands behind her, watching the new recruit from Sumeru Academy match her magical skills against the battle talents of Field Officer Nymph, but by now there's no spark of feeling at the touch.
The new recruit smiles at Jean as she walks off the training field, having called an early halt to the match, and Jean smiles back. Ms. Minci will surely be an asset to the Knights, whatever she chooses to do.)
***
In Jean's books, the ones she sneaks chapters of late at night when the rows of numbers in the Ordo's ledgers are making her eyes swim, love is a bond that must grown together, like a flower. The first buds of feeling are planted at first meeting, but develop only as the people come to know each other, and are watered together by acts of chivalry and mutual service. She can see something of her mother's promise in that, but feeling, not vows, come to the foremost, and anything the lovers swear is only to make that love obvious to others.
She dreams of that kind of love more often than she dreams of carefully arranged promises and amiable agreements. Her mother's form might be more appropriate to the Gunnhildr scion, who has to consider her family's position and potential heirs, but the slow-building warmth of fragile feelings strikes a far stronger chord in Jean's heart. Sometimes, when the night is warm and the breeze is light, she opens her window and looks out for a while into the dandelion-scented air, up at the star-studded sky, and imagines what it would be like to have someone she loves like that at her side.
They would have to be dashing, she thinks, because the love interests in the novels are always dashing, and chivalrous, but able to respect her own strengths as a knight. The lovers in her favorite books are silver-tongued, kind but guarded at first, until their love makes their closed buds open to reveal the true feeling that lies behind the perfume of their words. It's a very enticing fantasy, and one that Jean indulges in the few minutes she gets to herself. Some traveler sweeping in to catch her eye, perhaps, a heroic fighter who defends the weak and admires her as much as she admires them.
It always founders, though, on the knowledge that any such lover would have to love Mondstadt as much as she does--and they would have to understand that Mondstadt will always come first in her heart, before even them. Lovers in the novels are always throwing aside their old loyalties in favor of their bond. If Jean did such a thing, she would no longer be herself.
***
It isn't until after Diluc leaves that Jean learns to appreciate Kaeya as his own man, and not Diluc's constant shadow. She'd always known that he was one of the best of the Knights when it came to gathering information, so she makes a gamble and asks for his help in investigating the suspicious actions of Inspector Eroch. The gamble pays off handsomely. Kaeya is clever, and subtle, and exceedingly thorough.
And he's also funny, and dashing, and loyal, and more kind than he'd willingly admit. She quickly comes to love him as a friend, but she could love him as more than that, she thinks. They grow together over the years, chasing down the threads of corruption left in the Ordo, banding together to fill in the gaps in Varka's lackadaisical command. He, more than anyone else except perhaps Diluc, would understand that her first loyalty must always be Mondstadt.
But in their closeness, she also learns of the savage edge beneath his smile, a sharp, secret cruelty that Jean only sometimes catches glimpses of. It's a clawed and angry thing, his pain made into knives, and it will tear anyone who tries to reach too close apart. Jean could feed herself to it, all too easily, trying to grow a new bond between them.
So they remain friends and fellow-knights, the Acting Grand Master and her most loyal Cavalry Captain, nothing more and certainly, with their battle-forged companionship, nothing less. And Jean leaves Kaeya's sharper edge alone, for him to tend and hone and maybe, someday, grind down to bluntness. It's only her affair when it touches on the business of the Knights. Which, alas, it sometimes does.
"Should I ask why the Cavalry Captain is suspended for a week?" Lisa asks, wandering into Jean's office with the tray for their afternoon tea. "Or is this another strategem the two of you are running that I shouldn't ask about?"
"Hmmm? Oh, I hadn't realized it was that late," Jean says, as she glances out the window and sees the sun starting to lower in the sky. "I'm sorry I didn't join you outside, but I have extra paperwork now, because of him... and no, it's not a stratagem. Five of his subordinates were injured in their last mission, three of them badly enough to take them out of commission for several days. And reviewing the mission report, I can't deny that he deliberately took the risk that caused it, when it wasn't at all necessary. So I told him that if he wants to add excitement to his life, he can spend some time doing it alone, at his own expense."
"I had noticed that the shifts were rearranged to cover absences." Lisa moves Jean's paperwork aside to make room for the tea-tray, and for the plate of tiny sugar cookies that she sets in front of Jean. "That does explain it. And don't worry, it's looking like it might rain, so we might as well take our tea inside. What matters to me is that you take it. You work more efficiently when you take regular breaks, you know."
Jean smiles at this statement, a regular excuse from Lisa whenever she's asked why she's taking tea, or heading down into the city for lunch, or napping in the garden when her work has piled up. She isn't wrong, though. Jean has discovered that she can work much more swiftly, and much later into the evening, on the days that she joins Lisa for tea.
"I know."
Lisa meets her eyes, and her arch, concerned look melts into a gentle smile. "You have bags under your eyes again. You needn't work so hard, you know. Make the Cavalry Captain do some of his own work. He can still do paperwork on suspension."
"Kaeya...." Jean trails off.
She knows what's wrong with him, knows that what he needs most is to get out of the city on his own terms and tear a path through some monsters, or haunt the back streets and stalk the mysterious Darknight Hero who's so recently appeared. Things he can't do with the weight of command upon him. But how to explain why, and how she knows, to Lisa without going into things that are private to both him and Diluc, and into a dark past that she doesn't particularly want to spoil the day with?
"Better yet," Lisa says briskly, "stop thinking about him at all for the moment. I'm here to have tea with you, not the Cavalry Captain's shadow. Tell me about something more cheerful. Have you finished the last book you borrowed? Lover's Lament, wasn't it? You only have two more days before it's due."
Jean feels heat in her cheeks, but she can't deny it. Not when Lisa is the one who signs out books to her. "And I'll have it back in on time, I promise. There's only one chapter left, and I'm saving it as my reward when all the paperwork is finished. You were right, by the way, it's very good. I just hope they're able to resolve the love triangle without anyone having to forswear any oaths."
"I won't ruin the ending for you, but I will say that the author's been setting up the resolution since the third chapter, and I think you'll like it very much when you get there." Lisa sets a mug of tea in front of her. "I wouldn't have recommended it for you if I thought you'd dislike how it ended."
"I know," Jean says, and smiles gratefully at Lisa. "I'm a bit surprised you read it, but I'm not surprised at all that you have such good taste."
"I can't know which books are appropriate to sign out to which readers if I don't read them first, can I?" Lisa waves off the compliment, but her smile curves an extra few degrees at hearing it regardless. "Even the light reading material, since we have so many minors in the Knights. I couldn't hand that book to someone as young as Klee, after all."
"Of course not," Jean agrees, taking a sip of her tea, then cupping her hand around the mug to soak in the warmth. "And since you've read it, what did you think about the last scene of chapter six? I think there was a literary allusion being made there that I didn't quite catch, but you-"
She's interrupted by someone rapping frantically against the door, followed quickly by it being thrown straight open. "Acting Grand Master," Amber exclaims as she bursts inside, out of breath and panting. "Acting Grand Master, there's an Abyss Mage at the gate, and both the knights there have fallen. It's too strong for me, so I thought you- oh, hello, Librarian-"
Jean sets her mug down on the desk and rises, sparing only a moment's regret for the loss of her treasured break. She reaches for her cloak on the back of her chair and pulls it on.
"I'm on my way," she tells Amber, injecting command into her voice. "Run on to the Infantry Captain's office and tell him I want his on-duty squad there with me in two minutes. If I can't deal with this Abyss Mage myself, I may need backup."
"Should I come along, Acting Grand Master?" Lisa asks, starting to rise as well.
"No." Jean glances back at her, and feels herself soften at Lisa's look of concern. "If the knights at the gate have fallen, they may need medical attention. Can you get the infirmary ready?"
"In a jiffy."
"I'm sorry for abandoning our tea."
"Oh, don't apologize," Lisa says, and her smile is genuine. "If you didn't rush away the instant Mondstadt called, you wouldn't be our Jean. It's one of the charming things about you."
Comforted by Lisa's reassurance, Jean turns back to her duty, one hand on the hilt of her blade as she rushes out the door. For Mondstadt, as always, as her family's motto says.
When she comes back, the extra paperwork is finished, with Lisa's looping signature at the end. A single tiny sugar cookie sits on top of it. All the warmth that she'd felt from the tea comes rushing back, and she can't help but smile. It's a delicate feeling, like deep in her chest a sweet flower has come into bloom.
***
Sometimes Jean wonders how her parents, two such different people, came together in the first place. Her father had spoken of a flash of longing at first sight, her mother of promises mutually made and mutually dissolved; she knows that they fought side-by-side for a long while, each using their own talents to defend Mondstadt, before they were actually wed. But it's not as if she can easily ask either of them.
Both of them, when they'd spoken of their own accord, had elided over that long time together before their marriage. Out of pain, though, she could always tell that much, not because it wasn't important. Jean suspects that the secret to their affection lay there, in the many times when they fought side-by-side.
It's what her books suggest, too, though she knows that her books take artistic liberties with the truth, spin romantic fantasies that smooth over any faults and faltering that would exist in real life. She knows that without having had such things happen to herself, for she is always watching the people of Mondstadt, and in watching over them she sees their own love-tales play out. So often, their affections seem to grow slowly, unnoticed by one or both parties, until suddenly one of them has the courage to reach out and make it clear.
There's no question in her thoughts that, if she ever experiences a love like that, Jean will have to take that leap of courage. She's a knight of the Gunnhildr family, after all. Always the first to step forward, always leading from the front.
But the idea of it going the other way, of being the one courted instead, is the idea that she takes to bed with her on the hardest, latest nights.
***
Lisa doesn't beat around the bush when she feels strongly about something. Which is why Jean only has a few seconds to get Klee out of the room, as sparks crackle around the librarian and the scent of ozone floods the air, before both a shriek and a thunderbolt are loosed. The last thing she wants is for the lightning to touch off the rest of Klee's explosives in the middle of the Ordo Headquarters.
"My potions!" Lisa wails, from behind the closed door.
"Here," says Kaeya, who had retreated with them, and smirks at Jean as he reaches out for Klee's small hand. The young girl is still looking between them in confusion, not quite understanding what she's done wrong. "Why don't I take our Spark Knight with me and explain why we don't set off explosives in the storage rooms? And you can brave the angry librarian in her lair, oh fair Liontooth Knight."
"Coward," Jean accuses him, but he's already caught Klee up and jogs away. She lets him go, sighing, and then knocks on the door. "Lisa?"
The door swings open.
"Look at this!" Lisa exclaims, gesturing around at the scattered bits of broken bottles and the remains of precious potions pooling together on the floor. "This is going to take hours to clean, and weeks to replenish. Some of the ingredients are out of season, some of them are imported, and the rest were a total pain to collect!"
There's a bit of a whine in her voice, but Jean can hardly hold it against her. Lisa had brewed most of these herself, and hiked up and down the hills around Mondstadt to get the components for them the first time, complaining every afternoon about the work. The Knights can't afford to commission adventurers for the components to such minor potions--the alchemists already have claim on the whole of that portion of the budget--and Jean is hardly going to add one more thing to what's already piled on top of Paimon and the traveller with her, willing as they usually are to do such tasks for free.
But Jean's schedule is fairly light this week. Everyone had been insistent that she make it so, after her most recent collapse, and she had gone along with it in order to soothe their worries. There's plenty of time in there to gather some common ingredients.
"I'll order Klee to do the clean-up, with Kaeya supervising so she doesn't injure herself," she tells Lisa. "I think that would be a more effective way of teaching her not to do this than locking her in solitary confinement again. And if you make me a list of the ingredients you need around Mondstadt, I can gather most of them for you while you're waiting for the imports to come in. There's nothing we can do about the ones that are out of season, but that should cover most of them, shouldn't it?"
"It should," Lisa agrees, her outrage fading as she hears Jean lay out her plan. She taps her fingers against her lower lip and eyes Jean thoughtfully. "You're supposed to be sticking to light duties this week, though."
"Gathering herbs and flowers seems like a light duty to me."
"Yes, but I know you. The moment you spot one hilichurl on a distant hill while you're out there, or see a merchant with a rattling cart-wheel, you'll be leaping in to assist. I'll have to go with you, to make sure that you don't take on more than Barbara has advised you do."
Jean wants to protest--such incidents would be important things that any Knight on the spot should respond to, and she's perfectly capable of doing it--but she knows that Lisa would only continue to insist. Worse yet, she might offer to consult Barbara directly, and Jean doesn't want to trouble her little sister for something of so little importance. Besides, Lisa looks surprisingly excited about the idea, despite the fact that it's extra work for her.
"All right," Jean agrees. "We can meet tomorrow after lunch and see how much we can gather before dinner, and from that we should be able to determine how many more expeditions we might need."
"Perfect." Lisa heads towards the door, but pauses next to her to put a hand on her arm and squeeze it, a smug curve to her smile. "Then it's a date."
Lisa shows up the next morning with a basket in tow, and Jean assumes it's for the ingredients they're gathering--which Lisa does tuck into one side of it--until about three in the afternoon, their usual tea-time. Calling a halt to their work, Lisa produces a blanket and spreads it over the ground, then pulls her Special Heating Cauldron out of the other side of the basket, along with two familiar mugs.
"I meant to buy some sweets to bring, too, but I overslept too late and the bakery was out," she says apologetically as she starts the kettle up. "So it's not quite a picnic. But at least we can still have tea."
"Out here in the open?" Jean asks, looking around.
"I don't see any danger nearby," Lisa says, smiling at her. "And can you think of a better spot for tea? Since we have to be out here anywhere, I mean."
"You're right," Jean admits, reminding herself to relax and enjoy the moment. Both she and Lisa are more than competent to handle a threat if it does appear, but at this height they'll see anything coming from miles away. She can afford to enjoy the scenery.
And it is beautiful. They're high on Starsnatch Cliff, and the cecilia flowers Lisa had insisted they come for wave joyfully in the breeze around them. Bright afternoon sunlight sparkles off the waves in the distance below. Lisa is sitting on the blanket as elegantly as she sits anywhere, holding the kettle and the mug perfectly still as she pours. Her green eyes sparkle with a relaxed, carefree joy, and her brown curls perfectly frame her smile when she holds the mug out to Jean.
Jean's face is hot, for some reason, even though the cool breeze is counteracting the warm sun to exactly the right degree for comfort.
"This spot is also very private," Lisa says, more quietly, her voice almost gentle. "I'm very glad I get to share it with you. I appreciate you putting in all this effort for my potions, you know, even though I'm not an alchemist. Just like I appreciate everything you do."
"It's my duty as a knight," Jean says, automatically. Her tongue is sticking to the roof of her mouth, and she isn't sure why of that, either. But she can't look away from Lisa's green eyes.
"Oh? Having tea with me every afternoon is your duty?" Lisa teases, raising an eyebrow. "Telling me those adorable tales of your childhood, and discussing romance novels? They don't seem much like knightly duties to me."
A strange thing to tease her about, since Lisa is always insisting that Jean take these breaks, but Jean doesn't point that out. "I enjoy doing those things with you," she confesses, instead. "I'm not always able to, and I'm grateful that you understand it, but I treasure our time together."
"What a coincidence! So do I," Lisa says, and then she laughs. "Listen to us, dancing around in circles complimenting each other. I mean it, you know. I enjoy our time together very much. And I was wondering if you'd like to spend more time together. Outside of the Ordo Headquarters. Dinner at Good Hunter, maybe?"
"I'd love to," Jean says, sincerely, because she does truly enjoy talking to Lisa. They've grown close, in the last two years. Jean trusts her as she does very few others, even in the Knights, and she likes her on a personal level as well. Lisa is kind and well-meaning, even if she can get a bit aggressive at times. And she seems genuinely interested in talking to Jean on a level that most people aren't. Jean feels like she can bare parts of her soul to Lisa that she wouldn't show to anyone else.
Lisa's smile takes on a satisfied edge, like a cat who's found the cream. It's cute, Jean thinks, that resemblance, even down to the way Lisa puts her hand to her mouth in the same cat-like fashion. She's really a very pretty woman. Really, Jean is surprised that no one's won her heart yet, but she knows that Lisa has spent the past two years just as single as Jean.
"Than it's a date," Lisa purrs, in very much the same way she had yesterday.
Jean freezes in place, mug halfway to her lips, the heat in her face spreading until her ears are ablaze. A date. Dinner at Good Hunter. Just like a picnic, like Lisa had originally intended, could be a date.
Like two years of afternoon teas could be dates, if one looked at them from the right perspective.
"Lisa," Jean says carefully, lowering her mug into her lap. "When you say a 'date,' do you mean...."
"I mean that I was hoping we could take our little thing official," Lisa says, still smiling, but some of the smugness fades as she tilts her head at Jean. "...If we're agreed that we have a little thing."
"I hadn't realized," Jean confesses. She wants to duck her head away, but she forces herself to meet Lisa's gaze. "But now that I have... yes, I would. Agree. That we have a thing. Or rather, that I'd like to."
"There's no reason not to, is there?"
Lisa is still watching her, and Jean can catch a trace of well-concealed worry in her now much fainter smile. Courage, she thinks, it takes courage to reach out and be the first one to speak. It would be shameful of Jean to do any less than meet that courage where it stands.
"No." Jean shakes her head, then looks Lisa straight in the eye and smiles, trying to put all the tender, fragile feeling blossoming within her right now into it. "No reason not to at all. I'm only sorry that I went so long without realizing this."
"You know me," Lisa says, her smile growing stronger again. "I'm never in a rush for anything, as long as I get there eventually."
She leans forward, then across the blanket. Jean sets her mug down beside her and leans in to meet her. There, in the middle, their lips meet, and she kisses that smile until there are so many sparks dancing through her that it feels like Lisa's Vision is lighting her up from within.
Love is a promise, Jean thinks. And love is carefully-nurtured bonds and a shared loyalty. And love is courage, reaching out to express itself. And a dozen other things for different people, she's very sure.
And love, for her and Lisa, is two years of afternoon teas. That one's her favorite yet. Jean, pulling away from Lisa to sip from the mug that had been so carefully prepared for her, hopes that she'll be able to study it for a long time to come.