Proposed to Rosaria??

Aether was tired.

Not the hollowed-out, dehydrated ruin he had been after Aaru Village, but still deeply, thoroughly done. Every muscle carried the weight of the night. The dark rings under his eyes were almost comical. Mualani had talked the entire time — cheerful, explicit, constantly checking how he felt — and somehow the simple question of whether they should stop had never quite left her mouth. She showed zero remorse about it. When the group finally packed up she only stretched, smiled, and announced she felt great.

Aether told the others to walk ahead.

Rosaria stayed behind out of pure reluctant pity, muttering under her breath the entire time about unfair cultural advantages and why she couldn’t have a convenient flame that reset her stamina whenever she got fucked stupid. She walked a few paces behind him, arms crossed, still grumbling.

She did not expect him to stop.

She especially did not expect him to turn, drop to one knee in the middle of the rocky path, and pull a simple but striking necklace from his pocket — a bright red polished stone on a sturdy cord, traded from Aaru Village in exchange for the very thorough “favor” the women there had extracted from him.

Aether looked up at her with the exhausted, completely serious face of a man who had been carrying this particular secret since Mondstadt.

“I saw the date in the church register months ago,” he said quietly. “We’ve been on the road the whole time. No shops, no gold, nothing fancy. This was the best I could manage. Rosaria you have been with me from the start and never once held back on supporting me. I know i don't have the right to ask this of you, but … would you do me the honor of holy matrimony?”

Rosaria froze like a deer that had just watched the cart hit her.

For a long second there was only the wind moving through the canyon.

Then the sound of a full-force slap cracked across the rocks, loud enough that the rest of the party spun around in alarm.

When they looked back they found Rosaria fist-deep in Aether’s hair, kissing him hard enough to bruise, while a perfect, deep red handprint bloomed across his cheek. She was still kissing him when the others reached them — furious, flustered, and completely unwilling to let go.

The rest of the pride had known for weeks.

Very little escaped women this powerful and this closely bound to him. They had noticed the way Aether lingered, the quiet questions he asked about preferances, the single red stone he had traded for in Aaru Village and kept carefully wrapped. None of them were surprised. Only Shenhe’s expression had dipped, just for a moment — a faint, almost childish droop at the edges of her usual blank face.

Rosaria saw it immediately.

Still sniffling, still wiping angrily at happy tears, she reached over and gave the taller woman’s arm a rough, casual squeeze.

“Relax. In Mondstadt holy matrimony isn’t a monogamy thing. You’re not getting replaced. Idiot.”

Shenhe’s eyes brightened again almost instantly. The droop vanished.

Then the congratulations started in earnest — birthday and proposal treated with equal weight. Lisa pulled her into a one-armed hug and murmured something wicked and warm. Yelan offered a rare, genuine nod of respect. Ganyu’s smile was soft and sincere. Dehya laughed and clapped her on the back hard enough to stagger her. Cloud Retainer gave an elegant little bow of acknowledgment. Even Mualani bounced in place and clapped with open delight.

Through all of it Rosaria kept crying and kept hitting him.

Every time the happy tears welled up again she would turn and deliver another sharp box to Aether’s shoulder or a kick to his shin, muttering “you absolute cliché bastard” under her breath while her free hand stayed locked around the blood-red stone at her throat like she was afraid it might disappear. Aether took every blow without complaint, still wearing the bright handprint on his cheek and a tired, helplessly fond smile.

Mualani watched the entire scene with wide, fascinated eyes.

No jealousy. No offense. Not a single woman in the group seemed to resent that Rosaria had been the first to receive a formal proposal from the man they all shared and desired. The dynamic simply absorbed it, the same way it absorbed everything else — with teasing, with acceptance, and with the quiet understanding that the pride had room for this too.

Eventually the noise died down and they started walking again.

Rosaria stayed near the front, a few residual tears still clinging to her lashes, the red stone resting high against her collarbone. She held her chest so proudly it looked almost anatomically impossible, chin lifted, expression caught between residual fury at how unfairly romantic he had been and the kind of fierce, private joy she would never admit out loud.

Aether walked behind her, still getting the occasional backward kick when the emotion spiked again, and the rest of the pride followed with matching smiles.