The sun sat gently above the trees, its golden fingers spilling through the forest leaves and dancing over the river's surface. Victoric had claimed her usual little spot, a patch of grass right by the bank where the water's hum felt like it whispered ideas only she could hear. She was crouched over her canvas, her tongue poking from the corner of her mouth in deep concentration, her small hand smearing green water-based paint in uneven strokes.
To her, the blotches were trees. To anyone else, maybe they were just broccoli.
Her nose scrunched as she dipped her brush again. The jar of paint wobbled dangerously, threatening to tip onto the grass. "No, no, stay still," she whispered like the jar could hear. "You're supposed to help me, not fight me."
Just as she was about to add what she thought would be the "perfect" tree trunk, a voice piped up behind her.
"I still think it looks like broccoli."
Victoric's brush slipped and made a fat brown smear across the canvas. She gasped dramatically and spun around. Kain was standing there, arms folded, smirk plastered across his little face, eyes sparkling like he had just said the funniest thing in the world.
"It's not broccoli!" Victoric huffed, puffing out her cheeks. "It's a forest. A whole forest with big trees and tiny trees and a secret path only I know!"
Kain tilted his head. "A broccoli forest, then?"
"No!" Victoric stomped her foot, then quickly pulled it back because stomping too hard made her shoe dig into the dirt. "It's just a forest. Just trees. Trees don't look like broccoli. Broccoli looks like… broccoli!"
Kain pretended to think, tapping his chin. "Hmm… well, my cook says broccoli is a tree you can eat. So maybe you're painting food and you just don't know it."
Victoric's eyes went wide. "Wait. You can eat trees?!"
Kain burst out laughing, falling back onto the grass, clutching his stomach. "No, no! Not real trees. Just broccoli! But broccoli is like… tree food. Little tree food!"
Victoric squinted at him. Then she looked back at her canvas. Then back at him. Finally she shrugged. "Fine. Maybe it looks a little like broccoli. But only if you're squinting so hard your eyes go all wiggly."
"I'm not squinting," Kain shot back, still grinning. "I have royal eyes. They see everything."
Victoric crossed her arms. "Royal eyes? That's cheating!"
"It's not cheating," Kain said proudly. "It's just being me."
Before Victoric could think of a comeback, a strange, loud noise echoed between them. It was low, long, and almost like a growl from a tiny monster.
Both of them froze.
"...Was that you?" Victoric asked, her eyes darting around the trees like maybe some forest creature had joined their argument.
Kain's face turned red instantly. He placed both hands on his stomach, glaring at it like it had betrayed him. "No…" he muttered weakly. "It wasn't me."
Another loud growl answered him.
Victoric's mouth dropped open in exaggerated shock. "It was you! You're hungry!"
Kain turned away, mumbling something that didn't make sense.
Victoric leaned closer, her childish curiosity firing off like fireworks. "Wait, wait, wait. You're a prince, right?"
Kain groaned. "Don't say it."
"I never thought royalty gets hungry! Doesn't food just… like… appear for you? Doesn't someone just roll out a giant feast whenever you blink?" Victoric's eyes sparkled with genuine wonder, not mockery. "Like… you think of a pie, and suddenly there's a pie! You think of chicken, and poof! Chicken comes running with a little fork and knife."
Kain laughed despite himself, shaking his head. "That's not how it works."
Victoric gasped. "So food doesn't chase you?"
"Why would food chase me?!" Kain almost shouted, his voice cracking in that high-pitched way that made it obvious he was still just a kid.
Victoric shrugged innocently. "I don't know. Because you're royal? Maybe food gets scared not to come."
Kain buried his face in his hands. "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard."
Victoric stuck out her tongue. "It's not dumb. It makes sense. If you're a prince, food should respect you."
Kain peeked through his fingers, trying not to laugh again. "Respect me? Like bowing?"
"Yeah!" Victoric nodded eagerly. "Like soup bowing. And bread standing in a line. And fruits juggling themselves so you can pick which one you like most."
Kain broke into loud laughter, rolling onto his side, clutching his belly for a completely different reason now. "Soup bowing! Fruits juggling! You're crazy!"
Victoric grinned, clearly proud that she had made him laugh that hard.
When his laughter finally calmed, Kain sat up, rubbing his stomach again. "Okay, fine. Maybe I am hungry. But… I kinda left before food was served."
"Why?" Victoric asked immediately, eyes wide with endless questions.
Kain looked away, suddenly serious in the smallest way a five-year-old could manage. "I just… didn't want to eat there. That's all."
Victoric tilted her head, trying to understand. Her child-logic pieced things together in a way only she could. "So… you ran away from food to come see me?"
Kain's ears went red. "No! Not— not exactly— I just—"
"You did!" Victoric cut him off, clapping her hands like she had solved the world's biggest mystery. "You left royal food for me! Ha!"
Kain groaned. "Stop making it sound weird."
But Victoric was already bouncing to her feet. "Okay, if you're hungry, you can come eat at my house. My mom makes bread sometimes. And soup. Not bowing soup, but still good soup. And maybe roasted veggies, if she didn't burn them."
Kain blinked at her. "Wait, really?"
"Yeah!" Victoric nodded hard enough that her hair bounced. "You're a guest now. A guest in my kingdom." She gestured around at the patch of grass like it was a throne room. "And guests have to be fed."
Kain tilted his head. "Your kingdom?"
"Yep." Victoric put her hands on her hips. "This is Victoric-land. Population: me. And now you. And guests get food."
Kain couldn't help but grin. "Fine. I'll come. But if your soup doesn't bow, I'm leaving."
Victoric giggled, snatching up her half-finished canvas with a splash of paint still dripping from it. "Deal! Now come on before my mom eats everything."
Together they walked down the narrow path that twisted away from the river, Victoric chattering the whole way about how her house wasn't big or shiny like an inn, but it was still special. She described the creaky door, the way the floor whined when you stepped on the wrong spot, and how her window made the perfect frame for watching fireflies at night.
Kain listened, nodding every so often, pretending to act uninterested but secretly soaking in every detail.
The growl from his stomach returned, and Victoric giggled again. "Don't worry, soup is waiting. And bread. And maybe even jiggly fruit."
Kain rolled his eyes, but the smile never left his face.