Harlequin Hearts // Arlecchino Genshin Impact x Female Reader One-Shots

Scalded Pride

Scalded Pride

The grand halls of Fontaine's court were a sight to behold, filled with opulence that spoke of centuries of tradition and power. The marble floors gleamed under the light of crystal chandeliers, and the soft murmur of conversations echoed through the chambers like the flow of a gentle river. You had accompanied Arlecchino to the court today, a rare privilege granted only because of your budding relationship with the elusive Fatui Harbinger.

As the Knave, Arlecchino was not a stranger to hostile stares and veiled insults. The Fatui were feared and often despised throughout Teyvat, and Fontaine was no exception. But Arlecchino bore it all with the same cold grace that you had come to admire—her head held high, her expression unreadable, as if nothing could touch her.

You stood beside her, doing your best to mirror her calm demeanor, though you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled in the pit of your stomach. The nobles of Fontaine were a different breed, their smiles too sharp, their words too polished. It was a world of delicate power plays and unspoken tensions, and you were still learning how to navigate it.

Arlecchino's hand brushed against yours, a small, reassuring gesture that sent a wave of warmth through you. You glanced at her, catching the briefest flicker of softness in her eyes before her mask of indifference returned. It was moments like these that reminded you why you had fallen for her, why you had taken the risk of being with someone as dangerous and complex as her.

As the court continued to mingle, a servant approached, a tray of tea balanced carefully in his hands. He moved with practiced precision, his expression neutral, though you noticed the way his gaze flicked toward Arlecchino with thinly veiled disdain. It was a common enough reaction—most people were wary of the Fatui—but something about his demeanor put you on edge.

"Tea for the honored guests," the servant announced, his voice smooth and polite, though the slight curl of his lips betrayed his true feelings. He offered the tray first to Arlecchino, who accepted her cup with a nod, her eyes never leaving the man's face.

When he turned to you, however, something changed. His hand slipped—whether by accident or design, you couldn't tell—and the steaming cup of tea tipped over, spilling its contents onto your clothes. The hot liquid seared through the fabric, scalding your skin beneath.

A sharp gasp escaped your lips as the burning sensation spread across your chest. The pain was immediate, but so was the shock—shock that someone would dare do this in such a setting, in front of so many witnesses. You barely had time to process what had happened before you felt Arlecchino's hand on your arm, her grip firm and protective.

"Are you alright?" she asked, her voice low and controlled, though you could hear the dangerous edge beneath her words.

You nodded, though the pain was still fresh, your skin throbbing where the tea had burned you. "I'm fine," you managed, though your voice was tight with discomfort.

Arlecchino's eyes flicked to the servant, who had taken a step back, his expression carefully neutral, though there was a flicker of something in his eyes—satisfaction, perhaps, or fear at having been caught. He opened his mouth to stammer an apology, but before he could utter a word, Arlecchino was on him.

She moved with a swiftness that took your breath away, her hand shooting out to grab the front of his uniform, pulling him close until their faces were mere inches apart. The entire court seemed to freeze, all eyes on the two of them as the tension in the room reached a breaking point.

"Do you think this is a game?" Arlecchino hissed, her voice low and deadly, meant only for the servant's ears. "Do you think you can insult me, insult her, and walk away unscathed?"