"windblume… love poems… It's inexplicable, why use such troublesome actions to express one's love?"
In the library, Durandal was alone, researching information related to the windblume, trying to find the answers she needed.
She also took out some books related to love poems from the library. After a quick glance, she was unmoved.
The authors of those love poems all expressed their lovers as something beautiful, or very directly stated that the other person was a part of their life, that they were connected, and so on.
This was very mushy for ordinary humans, but it was very effective. At least, the girls who received these love poems would be incredibly touched.
She truly didn't understand why humans would engage in such troublesome behavior. Was simply expressing the love in one's heart so complicated? Couldn't they just tell the other person directly?
Was this for the sake of… 'atmosphere'?
Putting that aside, the choice of windblume was also a challenge.
For Durandal, who owned a flower field, flowers were never a problem. Many flowers were planted there, even some that are now very rare in Mondstadt could be found.
But… finding the flower that best represented her feelings among them, Durandal couldn't make a choice for a while.
Her first thought was the Cecilia on her problematic hat. The name of that flower was clearly taken from someone. What kind of person was this woman named Cecilia? Why did her name become the name of a flower?
There was no answer to this question for now. Venti also seemed to like that flower very much. Giving it to her as a windblume was an above-average choice, but… "Durandal-sama?"
As Durandal was lost in thought, a slightly surprised voice interrupted her.
She turned around and saw Rosaria standing not far away, looking at her in surprise.
"I didn't expect to see you here, Durandal-sama. May I ask what troubles you?"
Why did Rosaria come to the library? Because Barbara was bothering him, and to avoid Barbara, he ran to this place to hide.
What exactly happened? It turned out that due to the Windblume Festival, the Cathedral of Favonius became especially busy, and Barbara wanted Rosaria's help, but Rosaria hated overtime the most.
To avoid being caught by Barbara for overtime, he started hiding, hiding in various places in Mondstadt City, but he was always found by her.
This made Rosaria even suspect that Barbara was also a follower of Durandal, and that Durandal had also given her an animal that could collect information, otherwise, how could she find his location so efficiently?
There was no other way. Rosaria could only choose the Knights of Favonius Library, the most dangerous place. He was gambling that Barbara wouldn't guess he would run to this place to hide.
As soon as he arrived at the library, he saw Durandal looking troubled over a pile of books, which aroused Rosaria's curiosity.
He was very curious about what troubled a powerful person like Durandal. Could it be something particularly amazing, something that ordinary people couldn't understand?
According to his personality, he shouldn't casually intervene in anything, but his curiosity made him unable to resist asking a question.
"windblume… As a Mondstadter, what flower do you present to others during the Windblume Festival?"
"…Huh?"
It was an unexpected question, and Rosaria didn't know how to answer immediately.
What is it? windblume? It is indeed the Windblume Festival now, but for him, this festival only means being able to drink wine he normally wouldn't. Besides that, it has no other meaning.
Give flowers to others? Are you kidding? He's not like those ordinary people in Mondstadt City who can enjoy the festival leisurely. He's never given flowers to anyone, so how could he answer this question?
Is she asking him for flowers? Speaking of which, he is now a follower of Durandal. Even if it's not for Barbatos, he should offer a windblume to Durandal to show his loyalty.
"Please… please give me some time, I will go now for you…"
"Stop, where are you running off to? You haven't answered my question yet."
What's wrong with this person? So jumpy. Back then, she could face me with a calm and composed demeanor, so why has she become like this?
"You still haven't answered me, what flower would you present to others during the Windblume Festival?"
"…Durandal-sama?"
Rosaria, having calmed down, carefully considered the situation before him. He realized that things seemed different from what he had imagined. Durandal wasn't asking him for a windblume, but rather asking for his opinion?
Is she… going to give a windblume to someone? Who, exactly, has the qualifications to receive a flower from Durandal? Which great being is it?
Rosaria secretly glanced at the books on the table. They were all books about the windblume, and… hmm? There were also some books containing love poems?
These were all placed among the literature section, mostly written by Bards, and in his opinion, they were meaningless books.
Why would Durandal read these? Could it be that besides giving someone flowers, she was also preparing to write love poems for them? This… this… Rosaria rubbed his temples, feeling a headache. He was now even doubting if the Durandal in front of him was an ordinary person in disguise. As a God, it's understandable that she has someone she cares about, someone she likes, but why would she go to such great lengths for something so meaningless?
He understood. He must be sleeping, and all of this was his dream. When he woke up, everything would be as he imagined. He… [Whoosh!]
His middle finger bent, his thumb pressed down on his middle finger, his middle finger exerted a slight force, and his thumb finally released, flicking Rosaria's head through the air.
An action that originally had no power, yet Durandal was able to condense the air, giving it substance to hit Rosaria's head, making him snap out of his wild thoughts.
"Ouch."
The pain brought Rosaria back to her senses. Facing Durandal's displeased gaze, Rosaria no longer dared to ignore her, stating that she didn't understand these things; she had never given anyone a so-called windblume before.
Well, it seems that even a native Mondstadter couldn't give her advice, nor could she find answers in books. What should she do?
Durandal sat blankly in her chair, staring vacantly ahead, her exquisite Gothic Lolita dress making her look like a doll.
ε = (' ο ｀ *))) Sigh~ I can't help at all.
Rosaria scratched her head in frustration. If it were an assassination mission or an information-gathering task, Rosaria could perfectly accomplish it, but when it came to social interaction, she truly had no idea.
Rosaria pulled a chair beside Durandal and sat down, hesitating for a moment before deciding to speak up.
"Regarding the windblume, I can't give a precise opinion. Or rather, no Mondstadter has a precise answer for what the windblume truly is."
"In the hearts of different people, the windblume can be any flower. Windwheel Asters, Cecilia, Dandelions, sweet flowers, Small Lamp Grass, and even Wolfhook can be the windblume. Everyone has their own windblume; everyone has the freedom to define it."
"So, you don't have to worry that the flower you choose is the wrong answer, because there is no right answer at all. The act of giving the flower itself isn't important; what's important is that your feelings are conveyed to the other person."
The dazed Durandal jolted, her eyes flickering. "Feelings..."
"Yes, whether it's respect for the Anemo God, blessings for family, or love for a beloved, these definitions are given by you. The windblumes in books are the windblumes in other people's hearts. You shouldn't use those as reference; you should think for yourself."
After saying this, Rosaria let out a long breath. She didn't know if these words, which she had heard from others, would be effective, but this was the limit of what she could do now. If it still didn't work, there would truly be no other way.
Although they weren't her own sentiments, these words gave Durandal much inspiration, greatly dispelling the confusion in her heart, and her pupils regained their light.
"I know what to do now. Your advice was very helpful to me, Rosaria."
"As long as you're satisfied, Lady Durandal."
Rosaria smiled a little awkwardly, about to leave, but Durandal grabbed her hand.
"Lady Durandal?"
"You haven't been resting well again lately, have you?"
"!!!"
Oh no! She'd been so busy lately that she'd forgotten Durandal disliked people who didn't take care of their bodies.
Durandal forcefully pulled Rosaria to sit in the chair, staring intently into her eyes. The dark circles under her eyes, which she had previously eliminated, had returned to their original place.
It wasn't a disguise, but genuine dark circles. Why was this person like White Oriole? She wasn't even like White Oriole; she was originally a warrior, and after being strengthened, her physical improvements were much greater than White Oriole's, yet she still ended up like this.
Why couldn't these people listen to her and get some good rest? Laziness was human nature, so why were they so different?
Meanwhile, Barbara, who had been looking for Rosaria, found her here based on information from members of the Knights of Favonius.
When she saw Durandal beside Rosaria, she didn't go forward immediately but sat to the side, watching them.
When she saw Durandal let Rosaria rest her head on her lap, she had even less intention of approaching.
Although Rosaria usually wasn't active in church work, the dark circles under her eyes weren't fake; she must have been doing something else at other times.
Thinking this, Barbara dismissed the idea of asking Rosaria for help.
Let her rest today; she would come find her to work tomorrow.
Barbara didn't know that Rosaria now desperately wanted her to come and drag her away, to let her work overtime happily.
Why? Because the current situation was a bit too stimulating for her, something she absolutely couldn't accept.
Durandal half-forced Rosaria to rest her head on her lap. No matter how Rosaria refused, Durandal had no intention of negotiating.
This time, she helped her solve a problem. In return, letting her rest her head on her lap and get a good sleep could be considered an equivalent exchange.
Who would have thought that the usually unenthusiastic Rosaria, who showed no interest in anything and didn't look like a nun at all, was now blushing profusely, resting her head on Durandal's soft lap?
[Someone save me!]
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