It was exactly as she remembered it.
No, not exactly the same. The river in her memory was wider, and the slope seemed a bit lower. But the willows were still there, the flowers were still there, and the river was still there.
She took a deep breath.
The air smelled of water, grass, earth, and a faint scent of wildflowers.
She walked down the slope and stepped onto the grass by the river. It was soft and ticklish.
Ilya followed behind her, coming down to stand beside her.
Flora walked to the water’s edge and crouched down.
The river was clear. She could see stones at the bottom—large and small, some round, some flat. A few slender fish swam quickly, disappearing under the rocks in the blink of an eye.
She reached out and gently touched the surface with her fingers.
The water was cool, but not bitingly cold. It was the kind of coolness from a river warmed by the summer sun—lukewarm with a slight chill.
She traced a line on the water with her finger. Ripples spread out, circle by circle, slowly expanding, hitting the shore rocks, then bouncing back.
“How nostalgic.”
The fish were startled, darting out from under the rocks and swimming away. Flora watched them go, a small smile tugging at her lips.
“When I was little,” she said softly, “I used to catch fish here.”
Ilya stood behind her, silent.
Flora continued, “With my hands. I was clumsy. I’d spend half the day and not catch a single one. But when I did catch one, I’d be happy the whole day.”
She stood up, turned, and looked at Ilya.
“One time I caught a big one—longer than my palm. Well, longer than my palm back then. I held it in my hands and ran home to show Father. But I ran too fast, tripped, and the fish flew out, hit the ground, and died.”
As she spoke, she laughed.
“That night, we ate that fish. Father made a stew. He said, ‘You caught it yourself, so eat more.’”
She finished, lowered her head, and looked at her hands.
They were clean and pale now—completely different from the muddy hands of that time.
Ilya crouched down beside Flora, looking at the river and at Flora.
“This river,” Ilya said, “did you come here often?”
Flora nodded.
“Almost every day in summer.” She pointed to the opposite bank. “There’s a big rock over there—not flat, but we used to sit on it, put our feet in the water, and see who could sit the longest.”
She paused and smiled.
“I always lost.”
Ilya looked at her, something unreadable in her eyes.
Flora didn’t notice. She had already sat down on the grass, legs stretched out, hands propped behind her, tilting her head up to sunbathe.
Ilya hesitated, then sat down beside her.
“Mother, you should sit too,” Flora said, patting the grass next to her.
The two of them sat in silence, watching the river.
The wind blew, rustling the grass. A few dragonflies flew low over the water, their tails touching the surface now and then, creating tiny ripples.
They sat on the grass in simple long dresses, the breeze gently lifting their hair. Sunlight fell on them, close together.
At that moment, they were nothing like a queen and a princess. They were just an ordinary mother and daughter, sitting by the river, sharing the moment.
Flora watched the dragonflies and suddenly said, “I used to think dragonflies touching the water was them laying eggs. Later I found out it wasn’t. But back then, every time I saw it, I’d tell whoever was with me, ‘Look, it’s having a baby.’”
She laughed again.
Ilya’s lips curved slightly—so faintly it was almost invisible. Her hand brushed the grass beside her.
Flora turned her head to look at her.
“Mother, did you ever go in the water when you were little?”
Ilya thought for a moment.
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“The lake,” Ilya said. “When I was very young.”
Flora waited for her to continue.
Ilya was silent for a while, then spoke, her voice softer than usual:
“I was with… someone. She was younger than me, but braver. She always swam out deep. I watched from the shore, afraid something would happen to her.”
She paused.
“One time she really got a cramp and was thrashing in the water. I jumped in and pulled her out. She choked on some water and coughed for a long time, but once she recovered, she smiled at me.”
Ilya fell silent again.
“Silly girl,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.
Flora looked at her.
Ilya’s gaze was fixed on the river, far away.
A long silence.
“What happened later?” Flora asked softly.
“Later…” Ilya hesitated. “She left.”
Flora didn’t ask further.
The wind blew their hair, tangling it together, then slowly separating it again.
After a long while, Flora suddenly said, “Then she must miss you very much.”
She turned to look at Ilya.
Ilya didn’t look back. She just stared at the river, her voice very soft.
“Yeah, she must miss me a lot.”
Flora felt the hand resting on the grass twitch slightly.
Ilya continued watching the river, watching the dragonflies still flying.
The sun slowly tilted westward, turning the river golden. The willows’ shadows grew longer, cast onto the water, gently swaying with the ripples.
Suddenly, Flora stood up, walked to the water’s edge, close, then crouched down.
Ilya glanced at her, didn’t think much of it, and turned back to look at the grass and the sky.
Flora lowered her head, gazing at the shimmering water. It reflected her face, her golden eyes.
She placed her hands on her knees, looked back at Ilya sitting on the grass, and gave her a faint smile.
After about ten seconds, Flora plunged both hands into the water, cupped them together, curved upward, and slowly lifted them.
Water dripped through her fingers, pattering onto the ground, but most of it remained in her hands.
Flora suddenly spun around and flung the water at Ilya.
Ilya heard the movement and turned instantly, but she didn’t dodge. The water hit her—her hair, face, dress, all soaked.
Flora froze for a moment. She had expected Ilya to dodge—she was always quick to react, moving before Flora could even process things.
Actually, a small part of her had hoped the splash would land. That tiny thrill of getting away with something would have made her happy.
But what Flora didn’t see was—
Just before the water hit her, Ilya gave a very faint, very subtle smile.