Spying on the Wind | Venti♡Reader

💫𝕋𝔼ℕ💫

Y/N's POV:

Remain undetected. Catch every slip of information. As a spy, that was my motto. Informants often told me that I seemed to be able to slink into shadows and that I never acted conspicuously, though I wasn't all too sure that they were not just saying them to get on my good side. Well, as far as the Tsaritsa was concerned, my role was irreplaceable. With that said, I was gifted immortality and unique powers by Her Majesty herself.

I was hardly interested in the bard's performance, so I turned my attention to the listeners. Considering he was just a "mere bard", he had a considerable amount of fans, which greatly outnumbered the Fatui recuits present at any of our gatherings.

They were swaying to the melodious tune like leaves in the wind, their shoulders relaxed. Some were humming along softly, some had their eyes shut, temporarily sacrificing their sense of sight to better appreciate the music, and a few exceptional individuals were more interested in observing how his slender and skillful fingers played the lyre. A sudden high note alarmed me and the mood of the atmosphere was no longer peaceful, but lively. The upbeat song warmed my heart and all thoughts of my duties as a Harbinger went straight out of the window.

The final notes of the melody faded and that was instantly greeted with thunderous applause. Venti stepped down from his imaginary stage as the crowd parted. Hopping onto a creaky wooden bench, he took out a crimson red apple from his sack and munched on it delightfully.

My gaze landed on the tavern a stone's throw away from my position. Filled with drunken fools, taverns were places I avoided at all costs. "Any self-respecting individual would not indulge in alcoholic drinks," my aunt, who was the mastermind behind many of the Fatui's planned attacks and missions as well as a high-ranking agent who had the rare luxury of owning a Delusion without being a Harbinger, once told me.

"If you truly wish to accept the role of a Harbinger, do not even take a sip of that stuff, or so much as step foot into a tavern, lest you lose focus." My aunt made me promise to heed her advice before my eight-year-old self joined the Fatui. As my aunt played a huge part in my upbringing, I would never entertain someone who drank frequently or had dealings in drugs. Should I catch a friend drinking, all my respect for them would vanish into a puff of smoke.

Snapping back to reality, I stretched a little in my hiding spot and noticed the leftovers of an apple in the bin. The bard, long gone from his seat, was seemingly heading home with his lyre and the fresh red apples which he had just obtained.

Or so I thought.

Who goes to a tavern at daytime? I thought, perplexed when he took a turn and headed for his actual destination. Wait... he goes to a tavern? Pushing those thoughts aside, I scurried over to a discreet spot near a window. There was no way I would follow the damned bard inside the godforsaken place. But a window couldn't possibly let me view the interior of the whole building.

Perhaps I could make an exception.