The next day, Furina nervously opened the day's newspapers. After the previous incident, she had sworn off those third-rate tabloids.
The papers in her hands now were all from reputable Fontaine outlets—the very same ones invited to yesterday's press conference.
She closed her eyes, pinched the corner of a newspaper, then abruptly flipped it open, eyes wide.
Headline: {Hydro Archon Focalors Holds First Successful Press Conference After Taking Office}
Furina stared in disbelief. The entire article made no mention of her flustered responses from yesterday.
In fact, the paper had even printed a photo of her standing confidently on the press conference stage before her speech began, looking every bit the radiant, dignified Archon.
Only she knew the truth.
Yesterday, she had been a sniveling mess in front of Richard. Looking back now, she couldn't help but blush.
But one newspaper wasn't enough to judge. Furina quickly grabbed another.
Headline: {In-Depth Analysis of Minister Furina's Administrative Vision—Reporters Stunned by Her Brilliance}
Furina was instantly captivated. By the time she finished reading, she only had one thought:
'Oh, so that's what I was thinking! As expected of me!'
She decided to cut out this article and treasure it. The writer clearly understood her. If she ever got the chance, she'd love to meet them—they could be soulmates!
Meanwhile, in the next room, Richard sneezed.
Last night, he had met with several newspaper editors over dinner, reined in the narrative, and even personally penned a flattering piece. Truly, the Court of Fontaine's hardest-working civil servant.
'Honestly, if I hadn't gone into politics, I'd have made a great journalist—skilled at steering discourse and crafting puff pieces. A true media all-rounder!'
"Did I catch a cold from overtime?" Richard rubbed his nose.
"If you can fall ill from such a light workload, sipping tea, reading papers, occasionally reviewing documents, then I suggest you start exercising, Sir Richard." Lynette didn't even glance at him as she bent over to place a fresh pot of tea on his desk.
"Sickness isn't determined by workload. Even the healthiest person can fall ill." Richard lectured her earnestly.
"Mhm. And?" Lynette replied flatly, continuing her tasks.
"I'm sick. Very sick." He clutched his chest dramatically.
"Oh dear. Shall I take you to a doctor?" Her tone remained deadpan as she humored him.
"No need. Emotional wounds require emotional healing. A simple dinner at my place tonight, courtesy of Miss Lynette, would suffice."
"Should I warm your bed too?"
"If you're willi—OW!"
Lynette's tail whipped sharply across the back of his hand.
"My apologies. My tail has a mind of its own." She offered a sweet, innocent smile—the kind that could melt anyone's heart.
Who could stay mad after that?
Hell, even if she stepped on him, he'd forgive her!
Richard's gaze drifted downward. Her legs, sheathed in sheer black stockings, were on full display—perfectly proportioned, neither too thin nor too full.
"Want to touch?"
Her voice snapped him out of his daze. Richard straightened up, righteous indignation in his tone. "What kind of man do you take me for?"
Then, after glancing around, he whispered: "...Really?"
Lynette smiled faintly. "No. It's work hours."
"So after work—"
"Still no."
Richard slumped in despair. Lynette twirled a lock of hair around her finger.
"Though… if Father permits it—"
"With how Arlecchino feels about me? When I transferred you from her, she nearly killed me." Richard scoffed.
Arlecchino, The Knave, had never been fond of him.
That disdain had only grown since his relocation to Fontaine. Unlike other Fatui Harbingers who treated Fontaine as a "vacation spot," Richard had taken up permanent residence, inevitably encroaching on her domain.
Even though he had resigned from Snezhnaya's service, the Tsaritsa had retained his rank and privileges, one reason he'd climbed to the Court of Fontaine's second-in-command so swiftly.
Lynette's eyes flickered. She didn't think Father truly hated Richard. Despite her harsh, even hostile, words, Arlecchino had never acted against him.
She and her brother Lyney served as buffers between the two, preventing direct confrontation.
Yet, a woman's intuition told Lynette there was more to it. 'If Father genuinely despised someone, she'd eliminate them, just as she had the previous Knave.'
But Richard remained untouched.
If only he knew what she was thinking.
Richard would've laughed. 'What if the simple truth is that I'm stronger than Arlecchino? That's why she can't touch me.'
But he'd never say that to Lynette. After rescuing her years ago, he'd handed her off to The Knave for training.
As the saying goes, "The bond of nurture outweighs the bond of birth."
Neither he nor Arlecchino were the type to take grudges out on others, but Lynette and Lyney still bore the brunt of their tension.
"Father thought you had… ulterior motives. After all, who demands someone as a secretary right off the bat?" Lynette's tail flicked as she studied him.
"What's wrong with secretaries?" Richard asked.
He was very particular about secretaries. Not just anyone could handle the role!
To him, it was a sacred position—one that required diligence, attention to detail, and, most importantly, a beauty who looked exquisite in stockings.
"Nothing. When I agreed, I was… prepared." Her words carried a hidden meaning.
Richard's pulse quickened. "Prepared for what?"
"Who knows?" Lynette busied herself with the tea set.
He smacked a fist into his palm. "Ah! So you've had feelings for me all along! Understandable—as a half-elf, my looks are hard to resist."
Lynette ignored his narcissism. After organizing his documents, she said coolly:
"As you wish, Sir Richard. Tea time is over. It's time to report to Lady Furina."