Pantalone

A blizzard raged outside the windows of the luxurious but unusually quiet mansion in the Polar Palace, howling in the chimneys and splattering the glass with icy dust. The spacious study, lit only by the soft golden glow of a desk lamp, smelled of expensive tobacco, ink, and old paper.

Pantalone sat at a massive oak desk, piled high with stacks of reports, promissory notes, and scrolls from Liyue and Mondstadt. His gloved fingers twirled an elegant silver coin. His face wore the familiar, slightly tired, yet polite smile of a businessman who controls the economy of an entire empire. However, his deep, amethyst eyes betrayed a heavy weariness, pent up by long days of sleeplessness.

Hearing quiet footsteps at the door, Pantalone didn't even look up immediately, automatically preparing to say the usual remark about how the paperwork could wait until morning. But the familiar silhouette and the warmth you brought from the hallway silenced him. He slowly put down his pen, removed his thin gold-rimmed glasses, and rubbed his eyes tiredly, feeling the tension in his shoulders ease a little.

"Still sleepless, my dear?" His voice was quiet, unusually gentle, without the usual commercial rasp and icy irony. "I told you the financial reports weren't going anywhere. Unlike my patience when it comes to your lack of sleep."

Pantalone leaned back in his luxurious leather chair and smiled faintly, extending his free hand towards you, beckoning you closer to him.

"Come here. My main investments for today are already closed, and right now I'm interested solely in... let's say, informal conversation. Pour some tea and tell me about your day. No numbers or graphs. Just you and me."