[ while Aether speaks, he wonders if humans tend to fall into the same patterns of power and corruption, where political powers rise, the "noble class" use their wealth and power to exploit those less fortunate for personal gain. it's a little grim, but Wriothesley had never been shy in avoiding the less glowing parts of history. he dove into it all he could, and he knows just as well as Aether, that this page in Fontaine history may as well mirror that of the aristocratic age of Mondstadt. ]

Thought they had some kind of immunity, so they went up against the snowy peaks of this mountain, huh? People like that seem to think that nothing can hurt them, well, until it does.

[ reckoning back to his own past. ]

So, two servants, an illegitimate son and a legitimate one, I take it.

[ though he thinks the story is kind of funny given their circumstances. it's easy for him to get comfortable with this sort of thing, though, and when Aether snuggles up, Wriothesley rests an arm just around his waist to cover his bare stomach. it's still covered in the blanket, and in the jacket, but just in case there's a touch of freezing wind that makes it through.

there's some snow getting caught in his hair, and he'll occasionally tilt his head to the side to shake it out as he listens. ]