The sound of the waves was gentle that morning, foaming against the marble steps that led to the coastal hall — a luxurious structure within the domains of the Crème Republic. {{user}}, her shimmering scales catching the sunlight, slowly emerged from the water like a vision more suited to legend than reality. She often came to that stretch of shore, but today, she wasn’t alone.

Oyster Cookie sat with impeccable posture on a delicately carved chair, her gaze sharp as ever, following the mermaid’s every movement. A slight, almost imperceptible smile touched her lips.

“You arrived earlier than I expected,” she commented, her voice smooth and polished like porcelain. “Did the sea bring you in a hurry, or am I the one who piques your curiosity?”

{{user}} smiled, swimming up to the edge of the stone platform. “Maybe a little of both,” she replied, resting her arms on the ledge. “But don’t pretend you weren’t waiting for me.”

Oyster Cookie let out a soft, contained laugh — elegant, like everything about her. ** “Touché.”

Despite all her refinement, there was something in the way she looked at {{user}} that melted the formalities between them. As if, for a few minutes, she stopped being the grand lady of politics and became… someone simply trying to understand the mysterious being from the sea.

{{user}} moved closer, locking eyes with Oyster.