Zuleika's crimson eyes gleamed mischievously as she leaned back on her heels, still sulking in mock despair over her lost catch. Then, as if struck by inspiration, her lips curled into a wide grin.
"You know what, Princess Aquila?" she announced suddenly, voice laced with saccharine sweetness. "It seems fate has delivered me a mission of the highest importance."
She straightened theatrically, pressing a hand to her chest. "You, poor soul, clearly need proper guidance. And lucky for you, I, Princess Zuleika of Nexus, just so happen to be the finest fisherman in the kingdom!" She threw her arm out grandly toward the river. "So today… I shall teach you how to fish!"
Aquila's silver eyes narrowed at once, her expression twisting between disbelief and irritation. "Teach me?" she repeated, her tone flat and edged with disdain. "I hardly see the point. The smell alone is offensive enough."
"Oh, don't be such a bore!" Zuleika insisted, springing to her feet and circling Aquila like a hawk. "You mocked me, you even dared laugh when I nearly slipped into the river, and you got yourself splashed—so now it is time for you to learn humility. Consider this your punishment… and your blessing."
"I do not need—" Aquila began, but her protest was cut short when Zuleika thrust the fishing rod into her arms with all the force of inevitability.
"Here!" Zuleika declared triumphantly, her crimson eyes dancing. "Your turn. Don't worry, I shall guide you every step of the way."
Aquila glanced down at the rod in her hands as if it were a venomous snake. Her brows twitched, lips flattening into the thinnest line. "…You…"
"Yes, you!" Zuleika interrupted gleefully, planting her fists on her hips and puffing her chest like a pompous instructor. "Now listen carefully, Princess Aquila of Revazkerio, for I do not repeat myself twice." She struck a mock-serious pose, her voice suddenly deep and dramatic. "Fishing is not merely sport, nor mere skill—it is an art. An art that requires grace, patience, and above all…" She leaned close with a mischievous grin. "…a willingness to get your hands a little dirty."
Aquila's jaw tightened. "I did not agree to this," she muttered icily, though she didn't drop the rod.
Zuleika ignored the protest entirely, clapping her hands together in delight. "Perfect! You're already holding it wrong."
She stepped behind Aquila without hesitation, adjusting her stance by nudging her elbow. "Straighten your back. No—straighter! Yes, like you're preparing to face an audience, not sulking at a riverbank."
She reached forward and repositioned Aquila's hands on the rod. "Grip it firmly, not like a sword, but like a quill—steady but gentle. Ah, there! Much better."
Aquila twitched her brows again, enduring the invasion of space with visible irritation. "Your hands are cold," she remarked dryly.
"They are hands of a professional," Zuleika replied airily, ignoring the jab as she adjusted Aquila's fingers with unnecessary flourish.
"Now, the key to casting is timing. You must listen to the rhythm of the water itself." She tilted her head dramatically, closing her eyes and humming as though communing with the river. "Shhh, listen closely. Can you hear it? The song of the current, guiding you?"
Aquila deadpanned. "…I hear water. Splashing."
Zuleika gasped in mock offense, placing her hand over her heart. "Such sacrilege! And here I was, offering you the wisdom of generations!" She leaned forward, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "Fine, if you cannot hear the water, then just copy me."
She stepped around Aquila, seizing another rod, and demonstrated. Her movements were exaggerated—one foot forward, rod raised high, wrists loosening in a graceful arc before casting the line out with an elegant flick. The lure cut through the air, landing in the river with a satisfying ripple. Zuleika turned back with a smug grin. "And that, my reluctant student, is how it is done."
Aquila gave her a long, unimpressed look. "…Showmanship."
"Precision and flair," Zuleika corrected with a wink. "Now, your turn. Copy me exactly."
Reluctantly, Aquila raised the rod as instructed. Her posture was rigid, every muscle taut with resistance, but she mimicked Zuleika's stance with exact precision. Too exact—her cast came out mechanical, stiff, the line snapping awkwardly before the hook landed only a few feet away with a pitiful plop.
Zuleika's mouth twitched. Then, unable to help herself, she laughed—a bright, musical sound that carried across the water. "Oh, that was adorable."
Aquila's brows furrowed. "Adorable?"
"Yes! Like watching a stern cat trying to play fetch." Zuleika doubled over slightly, grinning wide. "Oh, you are hopeless—but fear not! I shall not abandon my student." She flicked her crimson gaze up, mischief brimming. "By the end of today, Aquila, you'll either have caught a fish… or you'll owe me dinner."
Aquila's lips pressed into another hard line, but she said nothing. The rod remained in her hands, and though her expression promised murder, she followed Zuleika's next instructions in silence.
"Alright, alright," Zuleika said, clapping her hands as though she were a proud mentor. "You almost had it! One more time. Just remember what I said: shoulders loose, wrist relaxed, let the rod do the work."
Aquila gave her a side glance, unimpressed. "You sound like you're reciting riddles."
"Fishing is a riddle!" Zuleika grinned, wagging a finger dramatically. "But don't worry—I'm the answer key."
Aquila rolled her eyes but mimicked the stance again. This time, her cast was smoother, the line slicing through the air and landing neatly in the water.
Zuleika gasped and clapped like an overexcited child. "Yes! Yes! You did it! My student has taken her first step into greatness!"
Before Aquila could snap back, the line jerked violently. The rod bent forward, the taut string buzzing with tension.
"Oh! Oh, you got one!" Zuleika shouted, bouncing on her heels in excitement. "Quick, quick—pull! Reel! Wooosh and then waaang—"
Aquila blinked, utterly lost. "Wooosh and… what?"
"Waaang! You know—wooosh! Waaang! Just do it!" Zuleika flailed her arms in demonstration, miming motions that looked more like she was swatting flies than fishing.
Aquila's silver eyes snapped toward her, incredulous and furious all at once. "What in the Gods' names are you even saying?!"
"You're wasting time, Aquila! The fish is fighting back! WOOOSH!" Zuleika leaned closer, shouting encouragement like a coach on the sidelines.
That was the breaking point. With her temper finally cracking, Aquila yanked the rod up sharply—far too sharply.
The line whipped through the air in a blur. In one ridiculous, perfect moment of fate, the fish launched forward and slapped Zuleika square across the cheek with a wet, meaty SMACK.
"—!!!" Zuleika's crimson eyes went wide, her mouth forming a stunned "o" as the impact reverberated. She staggered back, arms flailing.
And then—SPLASH!
She toppled backward straight into the river, her dramatic yelp cut short by the water swallowing her whole.
Aquila froze, rod still in hand, her expression stuck between horror and disbelief. For several long seconds, she didn't even breathe.
Then—flop.
The fish, freed from the line, landed right on the deck of the boat, flapping indignantly at her feet. The sound snapped Aquila back to reality.
She dropped the rod and rushed to the side of the boat, leaning over, silver eyes wide. "Princess Zuleika!" Her voice cracked with something dangerously close to panic. "Zuleika, answer me—"
Bubbles broke the surface, and then up popped Zuleika, her turquoise hair plastered to her face, cheeks flushed pink from the cold water and from the sting of fish-meets-face.
For a heartbeat, Aquila's lips parted, genuine guilt softening her sharp features. "Are you—"
But before she could finish, Zuleika tilted her head back and let out a loud, unrestrained laugh.
"Pffft—BAHAHAHA!" Her laughter echoed over the river, raw and genuine, shaking her shoulders as she tried—and failed—to swim properly while doubled over in hilarity.
"A-Aquila! The look on your face! I've never—hahaha!—I've never seen you so shocked in my life!"
Aquila blinked, her brows twitching furiously. "You… you're laughing?"
"Yes!" Zuleika wheezed, smacking the water with her hand as if it were sharing in the joke. "You—you actually hit me with a fish! A fish! Who does that?!"
Aquila pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering, "I didn't mean to—"
But Zuleika only laughed harder, crimson eyes glimmering with amusement. "Oh, this is the best day of my life! Princess Aquila of Revazkerio, conqueror of nations, defeater of… fish!"
Her joyous laughter was so infectious, so absurdly bright, that even Aquila's composure cracked for the briefest second—her lips twitching upward before she smothered it quickly with a scowl.
"Get out of the water," Aquila muttered, glaring down at her. "You look like a drowned cat."
Zuleika grinned up at her through dripping strands of turquoise hair. "Then catch me, teacher's pet."
And with that, she splashed water toward the boat, giggling as Aquila recoiled with an indignant hiss.
The river carried their laughter—one genuine and carefree, the other reluctant and begrudging—across its gentle current, weaving silliness into the quiet morning.
With the servants' help, Zuleika clambered back onto the boat, dripping water everywhere. Her once-pristine white shirt now clung to her form, loose fabric sticking awkwardly as she wrung water out of her turquoise hair. Her trousers were soaked through as well, heavy and darkened from the river.
Yet none of it dimmed her grin. She was beaming, still chuckling to herself as she held up the fish like it was some grand prize.
"Can you believe it?!" she laughed, crimson eyes gleaming with triumph. "It slapped me straight in the face and you still caught it! That's skill, Aquila. Pure skill."
Aquila's lips curled downward as she scooted back ever so slightly. "Stay away from me. You're dripping like some stray mutt."
"Oh, don't be dramatic," Zuleika said, inching closer anyway. "Look—our glorious fish! A trophy of our teamwork!" She dangled the limp creature mere inches from Aquila's face.
Aquila's silver eyes narrowed, her expression one of utter disgust. "Keep that thing away from me."
"Come onnn, touch it," Zuleika teased, wiggling the fish. "It's not going to bite. Well… not anymore."
"Why in the hell would I ever do that?" Aquila snapped, glaring at the slimy scales like they were the plague itself.
Zuleika smirked, clearly delighted at her reaction. She was about to press the fish even closer when Aquila's sharp gaze suddenly flicked downward.
Her brows furrowed. Her silver eyes darkened.
Through the soaked white shirt, Zuleika's skin peeked faintly visible beneath the clingy fabric.
Aquila's cheeks twitched almost imperceptibly before she snatched a folded cloth from the pile beside her and hurled it straight at Zuleika's face.
"Cover yourself."
"Pffft—?!" The cloth flopped over Zuleika's head, muffling her laugh. She pulled it down, blinking in mock innocence. "Ohhh, worried about me, are you?"
Aquila crossed her arms, glaring daggers at her. "I'm worried about my eyes. That's all."
Zuleika smirked, wiping water from her cheek as she draped the cloth over her shoulders half-heartedly. "Sure, sure. You say that, but I know deep down you—"
Her teasing halted when she caught the sharp flash of Aquila's glare.
"...What?" Zuleika asked, tilting her head.
"You," Aquila said firmly, "called me by name earlier. Without my title."
There was a heavy pause. The boat creaked under the weight of the river's current.
Then Zuleika shrugged, casual as ever. "Well, yeah. You are Aquila."
"You will address me properly," Aquila snapped, voice low, commanding. "Do not forget who I am."
Zuleika leaned back, one hand propping up her chin, crimson eyes glinting with mischief. "Mmm… no thanks. Too formal. Besides—" she leaned in slightly, a playful grin tugging her lips, "—I'm two years older than you. Technically, you should be calling me with respect."
Aquila's face went flat, her brows twitching. "What?"
"Exactly." Zuleika grinned wider, lifting the fish again for dramatic flair. "See, little sister, you should listen to your elders. Elders know best. Elders teach you how to fish. Elders—"
Before she could finish, Aquila snatched the fish clean out of her hand and lobbed it over the side of the boat with a plop.
Zuleika gasped as if she'd witnessed a crime. "You—you murderer! That was our glorious prize!"
"Your prize," Aquila corrected coldly, adjusting her sleeves. "And it smelled foul."
Zuleika pouted dramatically, clutching the cloth closer around her shoulders.
"Heartless. Absolutely heartless. What will we eat now? Hope? Pride? Your endless scowling?"
"Better than fish," Aquila muttered, though the faintest tug at her lips betrayed her amusement.
Zuleika caught it, of course, and immediately leaned closer, grinning ear to ear. "A-ha! Was that… a smile? Did I see a smile, Your Imperial Highness?"
Aquila shoved her forehead back with two fingers, deadpan. "No. That was contempt."
Zuleika laughed anyway, her mischievous glow refusing to dim.