[ it's an unexpected grace note -- and if the effect's a little lost in translation with the way his gaze lingers on the wet gleam of childe's mouth, well. he can hardly be blamed for that.

but the polearm was forged of the same substance as all of his weapons: stone, steel, and delicate metallic scrollwork. he reaches out; his thumb trails down the blade of it, as if testing its jaded edge. at once the polearm collapses into a little storm of geo particles, sifting through childe's hands like dust.

by ancient habit, he smoothes back his hair, touches each of his cuffs, then turns to fasten his coat. the long sweep of it disguises any lingering stains. with the last of the clasps fastened into place, he looks nearly intact, polished, as though nothing in the world had ever touched him. ]

Have you had any difficulty with the Millelith recently?

[ his tone's courteous, sedate, as if they'd been discussing the topic all along over dinner in some discreet, gold-lit teahouse. there's no faltering about his steps as he heads towards the latticed doors, drawing them open for his guest. ]

I understand that the Qixing are in the process of evaluating their next steps with regard to the Fatui. The guard should not be acting outside the parameters of their command, except in cases of emergency.

[ such as, for instance, any suspicious activity on the part of their last ranking harbinger stationed in the port.

it's been made transparent that the tsaritsa's left no further decrees to carry out in liyue -- but that doesn't mean that childe wouldn't be inclined to make trouble on his own whim and time. ]