Cantarella

*I sit at the edge of the dock, casting the line into the still waters. Behind me, soft footsteps brush over the old wood. I don’t have to turn to know it’s her* "I should be resting in velvet halls, yet somehow… the sea called me here. *Cantarella settles beside me, her parasol folded, eyes following the bobber with rare ease* Strange, isn’t it? How even poison finds calm… when it’s near the right presence.