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(Mona's POV)
As Fischl and I continue running around the coastline of the island we landed on (with her lagging behind), I soon realise the endpoint I set for us of reaching the beach first didn’t quite make sense; it was sand and the sea all around, the only exceptions being the flora and rocks in the centre. (In my defence, I’ve never set foot on this archipelago until now.)
“Let’s change the endpoint to that, shall we?” I say as I point between two rocks that are close to a broken boat. After Fischl nods, I start to sprint.
“Wh— The Prinzessin commands thee to cease hastening thy pace!”
Oz says something which I’m too far to hear, but when Fischl shouts his name indignantly, I smile to myself in amusement.
As soon as I reach the endpoint, I turn around and yell, “Hah! Beat you to it.”
Fischl frowns and runs faster towards me, as if doing so would change the outcome of our race.
“Hmph, wretched archmage,” she says when she arrives. “I was merely using a fraction of my power. To think you’d be arrogant enough to flaunt your victory so soon… I, Fischl, the Prinzessin der Verurteilung, will be sure to put you in your place by unleashing my otherworldly power.”
“As I’ve said before, bring it on.”
“Sorry to interrupt, but perhaps you and mein Fräulein should decide on a swimming route first,” says Oz.
“Oh, right. Well…” I scan the surroundings, looking for a suitable path and potential markers. It’s a fruitless endeavour; beyond the island we’re on is only an endless stretch of water, with the nearest marker being a huge rock that’s quite the distance away. That won’t do… Should I create a phantom to mark the distance we’re swimming to instead?
“Well?” Fischl asks.
“Huh?” Is she waiting for me to decide, or…?
“I grant you the authority to determine the course within these vast water bodies which we shall utilise. Consider this a gesture of generosity from the Prinzessin to prevent a landslide victory on my end, and an utterly humiliating loss on yours.”
“You— Ugh, never mind.” I create a Phantom of Fate just above the water and about halfway between the rock and the island. “See that phantom over there? We’ll be swimming there and back to shore. First to 10 wins?”
Fischl nods. “An agreeable arrangement.”
“The race earlier counts, by the way.”
“Huh?! That’s not— In what manner is the act of sprinting on land comparable to propelling oneself through water bodies?”
“You have a point, but we were already competing during that race, no?”
Though Fischl huffs, she doesn’t protest against it anymore.
“Seeing that I should keep a distance from the water for both of your safety, I will be the referee for your swimming race,” says Oz.
“Really?” I fold my arms. “Are you sure you won’t be biased towards Fischl?”
“I promise to be a fair judge, Lady Megistus.”
“How dare you accuse me of needing to resort unscrupulous means to secure victory! Your accusation is not only disrespectful, especially to one of royal blood such as I, but also completely unsubstantiated slander. Watch your words.”
I lift a hand, gesturing in Oz’s direction as I tease her, “He’s your familiar, after all. I have to be cautious.”
With a huff, Fischl suddenly heads for the large rocks in the centre of the island, leaving me confused until she starts removing one of her boots. Oh, right. Quickly, I follow her there, then place my heels, stockings, cloak, gloves, and sleeves on the rocks. As I bend down to do so, however, my hat almost tips over multiple times. I sigh before taking it off as well, leaving it near the rest of my belongings.
After that, I turn to Fischl. Surprised to see her staring back, I ask, “Yes?”
As if she were caught doing something that she shouldn’t, she immediately looks away and continues removing her own sleeves just as hurriedly. What was that about?
After she’s done, she faces me and crosses her arms with a conceited look (somehow, it’s a little cute)—a far cry from her unexplained panic earlier. “So, Lady Megistus, art thou prepared to face thy imminent loss?”
I scoff. “Be prepared to eat your words, Fischl.”
After Fischl and I take our positions at the water near the coastline, Oz starts counting down from three.
“Begin!”
Time passes in a blur the moment I start to swim, and before I know it, I’m back where we started, grains of sand prickling the soles of my feet underwater.
“It seems you have won this round, Lady Megistus. Congratulations,” says Oz. I nod in acknowledgement before turning back to the sea to watch Fischl finish her current lap. When she’s finally done and notices that I’ve already reached, she frowns.
“Tis’ but an anomaly, Lady Megistus. The Prinzessin shall not be beaten by the likes of you.”
“Oh?” I fold my arms as I challenge her, “Prove it, then.”
With a haughty “hmph”, she flips her hair while turning back to the sea. “Be careful of what you wish for, Lady Megistus.”
It’s a simple and clear taunt, and yet, it stirs something in my chest beyond just a fiercer desire to win.
***
Determined as Fischl might be, it doesn’t stop her from getting worn down; after the end of the seventh race, she’s already breathing much harder than usual. Concerned for her current physical state, I walk out of the sea and offer her a hand while trying to ignore the cold.
However, Fischl just looks at it in confusion before meeting my gaze. “What is the meaning of this, Lady Megistus?”
“Get up here and rest. Can’t have Your Highness drowning on me.”
Fischl frowns. “Art thou belittling me?”
“Do pace yourself, mein Fräulein. If you wish to beat Lady Megistus, you’ll need to complete at least 8 more rounds.”
Fischl shoots Oz a glare before turning back to and pointing a finger at me. “Lady Megistus, you might have the upper hand now, but…” She pauses and poses, her left arm folded while her right hand—its fingers splayed—is brought over her uncovered eye. “…when I, the Prinzessin der Verurteilung, unleash my full power, I will surely claim victory and bring glory to the Immernachtreich!” After all that, her hands return to her sides just as dramatically, splashing seawater towards my legs in the process.
Ugh, this girl… “I’m serious, Fischl. Do you need to take a break?”
Fischl opens her mouth, seemingly about to protest when Oz gives her a hard stare. Somehow, it’s enough to change her mind, judging from the now calmer look on her face. Finally, she takes my hand, its warmth a comfort against my cold skin. I try not to dwell on it as I pull her out, but the moment she lets go, a part of me wants to find an excuse just to continue holding her hand.
“Since you have your Prinzessin’s best interests in mind,” Fischl speaks, interrupting my straying thoughts, “one has decided to heed your advice and allow oneself to recover. But brace yourself for fiercer competition, Lady Megistus.”
Later, she swiftly walks to and sits on one of the large rocks near where our clothes are (almost as if she is looking forward to the break). After grabbing towels for both of us to dry ourselves, I sit on her left before letting out a sigh. “You’re so stubborn sometimes.”
“As are you,” she retorts. “You are in no position to make such judgements about the Prinzessin’s character.” When I look at her, her arms are crossed (and weirdly bare) but she doesn’t seem offended. There’s even a hint of playfulness in her eye.
“Really, now?”
An unfairly attractive smirk spreads across her face. “Your refusal to concede to your Prinzessin in this conversation is already proving so.”
On a logical level, I know that Fischl referring to herself with the term “your Prinzessin” is merely part of her roleplay. If she’s the Prinzessin of the Immernachtreich and I’m one of its many citizens, it’s just a reminder of her allegiance—of the nation she serves and belongs to. Still, my heart stutters every time she says it, as if in some vain hope that she reserves it only for me.
“You aren’t exactly leaving much room for me to argue with a statement like that.”
She raises her chin up, her smirk growing wider. “Oh? So you’ve chosen to concede, Lady Megistus?”
I sigh. “If it makes you happy, then yes, I concede.”
The smugness fades, leaving behind a softer, more joyful smile before she turns towards the sea. Only now do I notice how she looks under the setting sun; it paints her hair in a richer gold hue, highlights the little smile that still tugs at the corners of her lips, casts a warm glow upon her that makes her seem as if she were truly an otherworldly princess. Maybe it won’t hurt to let her win a few more rounds…
“I have traversed many worlds and witnessed many impressive sights that many mortals could only dream of. Yet, I find myself utterly mesmerised by the scenery before us.” Then, Fischl turns back to me, and in her eye is a spark of excitement that causes my heart to skip—once, twice. “Is it enchanting to you too, Lady Megistus?”
You’re more enchanting, I immediately think, only to almost wince at how cheesy it sounds even in my head. Not to mention it’d be weird if I said that to her… I avert my gaze, turning towards the horizon instead, yet it only reinforces the cheesy thought that came to mind since Fischl’s question. “Hm… I suppose this is pretty nice.”
***
When our race resumes, I ease back my swimming pace, just enough to let her win without looking suspicious. The moment she reaches the shore before me, she faces me with a bright and triumphant smile, as if the world has aligned exactly the way she wanted it to. Maybe I just wasn’t paying attention earlier, but… has she always looked so cute whenever she won?
“Ohohohoho! Behold, Lady Megistus—the Prinzessin der Verurteilung has once more emerged victorious!”
Ugh, how did I forget that she also likes to taunt me? I huff. “Don’t you think it’s too soon to celebrate?”
“While this victory may only be but a footnote in the Prinzesssin’s history, it is still glorious in its own right,” Fischl proclaims with a proud lift of her chin. “It is also a sign that the Prinzessin’s retribution upon you for your arrogance is nigh.”
Though I practically handed her that win, her words still prick at my pride and cause a familiar irritation to flare in my chest. But, if indulging her keeps that adorable smile on her face, then I suppose I can endure a bruised ego for a little longer…
“Well,” I sigh, “you can celebrate all you want. But I’ll make sure your chance for retribution never comes.”
“Oh? You truly are audacious to taunt one of royal status so boldly, Lady Megistus.”
“Mein Fräulein, Lady Megistus,” Oz interjects, “are you ready to start the next race?”
Oz got impatient, huh? An amused smile tugs at my lips. I suppose we have been talking for quite a while… “Of course.”
“Always,” Fischl affirms.
***
Six rounds later, Fischl’s scored another four points while I’ve scored two. It’s no matter—these intermediate results aren’t exactly important, anyway, and it’s nice seeing her so happy (even if her gloating gets a little grating at times). Or at least, that’s how she’d normally reacted in past rounds… Now, while we’ve taken our positions near the coastline for the next round as usual, she’s giving me a hard stare for some reason.
“What?” I ask.
“Lady Megistus,” she says while folding her arms, “hast thou been restraining thy prowess in the rounds that just passed?”
“Huh? Of course not!” Darn it, how did she know?
“One would presume that a period of rest would have restored thy capabilities to what it was prior to the beginning of our competition. Yet, thy performance appears to have worsened afterwards.”
Curses. “W-well, it takes time for me to get back into the groove of things after a break, you know?”
Fischl’s eye narrows more, clearly suspicious of my explanation (it’s nonsensical even to my own ears). “Inclined as I am to attribute this streak of success to mine invigoration, the gap in our current performance differs far too much from before, Lady Megistus. Surely it must not have shrunk to the extent that the Prinzessin would rival thy score?”
“Rival my score? I’m still in the lead, you know. And, I’ll be winning in 2 more rounds.”
“You— You will pay dearly for this mockery of me, Lady Megistus!”
I huff as I take my place at the coastline again, preparing for the next round. I never intended to mock her swimming skills by letting her win, but if a loss is what she wants…
I toss my hair back before turning towards her. “Beat me first, and then we’ll talk.”
…a loss is what she’s going to get.
***
Two rounds later, I won (just as I expected) at a score of 10 to 7. And, just as expected, Fischl is quite displeased—she’s even resorted to striking out my score on the notebook Oz was recording the results of our race in as if it’d change the outcome.
“Wretched archmage…” Fischl mutters as she scribbles some words below the struck-out number with a pencil.
“You can just talk to me instead of writing there, you know,” I tease, amused by her antics.
“The written word is far superior evidence of an event’s occurrence than mortal memory.”
“Huh? What else is there to record about the race?”
“Mein Fräulein simply wishes to leave a more detailed account of the swimming race between you two on this island. Although she is upset that she lost even when you seem to have gone easy on her—"
“Oz!” Fischl yells while turning to him with a glare.
“—she greatly treasures this experience and had fun racing against you.”
Curses, why is my heart racing?
“That is an utter misrepresentation of my speech, Oz,” she claims, but my astrological intuition says otherwise; now, it’s even harder to calm my heart down.
“You do remember that I can tell when you’re lying, don’t you?” I tease instead, trying to ignore the incessant quick thumps in my chest. When Fischl groans, I have to suppress the smile tugging at my lips. “Anyway, let’s head back to camp when you’re done.”
“…are you truly that eager to return, Lady Megistus?”
“Hm?”
“It’s… A considerable amount of time has passed since our last proper engagement. Do you not wish to prolong this encounter between us?”
She wants to spend more time with me? Just like that, my heart flutters all over again. Darn it, it only just calmed down, too… Why does she keep saying things that rile up my heart today? “O-oh. Well, uh…” I clear my throat. “It’s just, we were racing for quite a while. I just thought we should go back and check on the others first.”
Fischl responds with a displeased hum that almost sounds petulant as she resumes writing in the notebook. She still doesn’t want to go back, huh… Why does she want to hang out with me alone that much? Is it because she isn’t as close to the others, or…
No no no, I’m definitely overthinking this, I think as I shake my head in an attempt to get rid of the outrageous suggestion from the infatuated part of my mind. Ugh, when did I get so delusional?
Trying to distract myself, I squat next to Fischl and start reading what she’s already written aloud, “‘How dare you hold back?’ Hey! I wasn—” I pause, realising I’d look ridiculous no matter how I argued against her deduction (it’s even worse because she’s right). “Ugh, never mind…”
“So you confess that you did hold back?”
I groan and pull the brim of my hat down as heat rises to my cheeks. “Shut it.”
When Fischl chuckles, my cheeks grow even hotter. “Pray tell, Lady Megistus, for what reason did you commit such an act? If your explanation is deemed satisfactory, you may be pardoned for the offense you caused by presuming that one required your deliberate concession.”
Immediately, the memory of her gentle smile under the sunset and her grin when she first won after our break flashes in my mind, and I almost hate how even now, some part of me still thinks losing to her on purpose is all worth it. But there is no way I’m admitting that’s the reason, especially not to her!
Just as I tip my hat up to look around for something to deflect with, I spot Lumine and Kazuha some distance away from our island. This is my chance!
“Oh! The Traveler’s back!” I say while standing up. “If you don’t mind, I’ll be telling her about my victory.”
Afterwards, I make my way towards the camp as fast as I can.
“Wha— Hey! Come back here! Ugh, you wretched archmage!”
(Thankfully, that’s the last time Fischl asks about it.)