And I would do anything for you (anything at all)

Chapter 5

Kaeya stayed at Albedo's overnight. Even still, he receives the news about Crepus' passing at just past sunrise, Jean coming to the flat with a passive expression and a file held tightly against her chest.

She's bowing her head, maybe out of politeness in this difficult moment. "Sir Kaeya -" she doesn't usually use his title, "- I have some tragic news."

He lets her go through the whole spiel, feigning shock and squeezing Albedo's hand as she speaks. 'Bereavement leave starts at seven days -' and 'the Knights of Favonius are here to support you in this difficult time.'

This type of duty is not in Jean's job description. She likely just had the morning shift and Varka must have figured a more personable messenger would be appreciated, considering Kaeya's position within their ranks. But he can tell that she has been crying based on the crimson rim along her eyelids. Messengers of this sort are not supposed to cry, but Kaeya supposes that at least one of the three people here should let out a few tears.

"Jean, thank you for delivering this news personally," he rubs down his face, attempting to draw redness into his pallor to match hers. "How did..?"

"We don't know yet. Draff found his body near Wolvendom earlier this morning, his injuries were," Jean presses a hand over her mouth and gulps, "quite severe. We only knew it was him because of the hair, since Captain Diluc is accounted for."

Which brings him to - "Does Diluc know yet?"

"No, no - I... I thought you might want to tell him."

He'd rather not, actually. It would be far easier if Diluc simply lost all memory of Crepus' involvement in his life and Kaeya could tell him some stranger had died. But he would much prefer to handle the burden alone than allow Jean the opportunity to upset him more than is necessary.

That's why he leaves her with Albedo, to head over to the cathedral on his own. Marjorie waves at him, Huffman nods as Kaeya passes by; the Knights of Favonius must be waiting to officially announce the news until both of Crepus' sons are aware of the 'tragedy' that occurred overnight. However, as he enters the cathedral the Seneschal trails behind him on his way to the infirmary at the back.

"Seneschal," Kaeya greets, not slowing his gait.

Seamus speeds up to match him, "I am just... So sorry for your loss, Sir Kaeya. Crepus and I, well you know." They were friends, drinking buddies. While Kaeya knows that Crepus considered most of his 'political friendships' as far more political than they ever were friendships, Seamus is not aware.

"I'm trying to focus on how to tell Diluc, right now." He says, attempting to brush him off.

"What terrible news for him to hear on his birthday."

Kaeya startles to a stop, Seamus crashing into the back of his shoulder. Through the intensity of the last few days (while he would never forget Diluc's birthday, the thirtieth of April) it has slipped his mind that today is Wednesday - which happens to be the thirtieth.

"I... I can't tell him." He realises out loud.

"Well, I suppose waiting for tomorrow won't be too problematic -"

"No," Kaeya snaps, combing his hair back with one hand and gritting his teeth, "Diluc can't know, not ever. It would crush him."

Seamus stares at him, "Yes, that is how death works."

This whole time, Kaeya has only considered his own part in this. The benefits of ending Crepus are numerous and he has been weighing them against the chances that he might be caught in his crime. He hasn't thought about Diluc's reaction to the death itself, just how much better everything will be six months down the line.