His Grace then darted down the hall to acquire the chess kit while I continued my suanter downstairs. Upon my approach, I passed several servants standing upon wooden stools in their effort to light up the scones throughout the estate as the sky darkened with rain clouds. There was something cozy about the warm glow against the living room walls that coaxed me. Two white tufted sofas sit across from each other with a coffee table between them. Seen as His Grace hasn’t yet arrived, I get comfortable on one of the couches, leaning against an embroidered pillow. Towards the front of the room I spot a marble fireplace, adorned with depictions of angels carved on either side. Unlit, its center bore the resemblance of a dark cavity, a stark contrast with the pleasant atmosphere. It would likely remain barren this way until the coming winter, about six months’ time. It seems almost a pity that means I won’t be here long enough to experience the crackling of its fire.
“I brought the chess kit as you asked,” His Grace says, greeting me with his offer of the wooden case in his entry to the living room. I motion to sit up as he then kneels beside the coffee table, placing it down. The top of the box is checkered as a game board, while the pieces reside within it. He gently pulls out a shallow drawer, bustling with various chess pieces. As he procures a white knight, he peers up at me. “So do you have a preference for either team color, Avalor?”
“I’ll take white,” I answer aloofly, withdrawing the horse figurine from his hand.
“Alright,” he says, differentiating the pieces into two groups. “Would you like for me to set up your side, as well?”
“There’s no need,” I say, leaning over towards the coffee table, “I can organize my team, myself.”
“Alright,” he nods, moving to sit across from me. I begin by placing my queen slightly off center, following with the king, the rooks, and so on, until I’ve finished with laying out a single row of pawns.
“Ready to play?” I ask, noticing he’s also just completed his side.
“Yes.” There’s a brief pause before we realize we must choose who goes first and our eyes suddenly meet. “You can go first, Avalor,” he says courteously.
“Alright,” I reply, moving my first pawn swiftly forward, “Your turn.” He follows suit with the same piece, meeting my pawn head on in a stalemate. “Not very original in your thinking,” I remark, with a raised brow. He smiles, but my expression remains indifferent in my focus of the match. I move a knight diagonal to my pawn.
“So,” he interjects, placing his own knight ahead of his team, “I have a question for you, Avalor.”
“Mhmm,” I answer, gliding my bishop across the board.
“And I’d like for you to be completely honest with me,” he stalls, moving another pawn.
“I’m listening,” I respond, retreating my bishop.
“What can I do to fix my social standing with you?” he asks quickly, seemingly self-conscious about it. My gaze lingers on the game as my brows furrow.
“Huh?” I question, more concerned with the knight he just moved than his question.
“I want to be on better terms with you,” he clarifies as I motion to isolate my king towards the corner.
“Why?” I ask obliviously.
“Well,” he suggests whilst taking out my pawn, “Moving forward I don’t want to be giving you reason to be angry with me.” My eyes narrow at the board in reaction to his appeal.
“You don’t want me to be angry with you?” I ask, setting an additional pawn forth, “And why’s that, exactly?”
“Because it means I’ve left you to question my intentions, Avalor,” he says, moving a pawn, “and I agreed to be forthcoming with you.” Ah, yes, I guess he did initially promise me that before enacting the arrangement of our new terms.
“Well, I find it odd you would be so concerned with my opinion,” I press, recognizing his encroachment of my bishop, “You knew I didn’t want to marry you, yet it seemed you were more than content to carry on the charade well into our wedding night.” “However,” I continue, lifting the figure away from his pawn, “now that you’ve been made aware of my anger, you would like to avoid provoking me.” “Tell me,” I assert, awaiting his next move, “is this because you actually care or is it merely an inconvenience for you?
“Well, of course I care–”
“It’s your turn, Your Grace,” I interrupt, dismissing his concern. I hear him let out a sigh, picking up on my intention with the phrase.
“Alright,” he concedes, shifting yet another pawn, “but as I was saying, Avalor I do care, which is why I’m asking you–”
“You know,” I interject, looking up to address him, “I think we’ve both since calmed down from our quarrel earlier so let's not trouble ourselves with the likes of the past.” “The affairs of our arrangement should be fleeting at best,” I remind him, capturing his chess piece. “And you deserve someone who won’t bother you with such frivolities,” I assert, placing my hand over his. Someone like Lady Margot, who actually wants to marry. He slowly draws his gaze towards my touch, before suddenly looking back at me.
“But I don’t want anyone else,” he insists, promptly moving his bishop, “I only want you.”
“Your Grace,” I sigh, lifting a chess piece towards the center, “Consider naming one thing outside of my looks that compels you to feel–”
“Your wit,” he answers suddenly, as though the thought was implicit. I pause to peer up at him, the pawn lingering above the board. Recognizing my expression of discern, he continues. “I’d name more than that but you only asked for one, Avalor.”
“You like my wit?” I ask carefully, setting the piece down.
“Of course,” he replies, setting forth a bishop.
“Care to elaborate on the notion?” I prod, proceeding with my turn. He nods.
“You’re so incredibly brilliant, Avalor,” he praises eagerly, “You often stump me from time to time, and it’s not only that–you’re quite comical, too.”
“Do you really mean it?” I ask sweetly, baiting him.
“As I live and breathe,” he replies dreamily, drawing closer.
“Well that’s very kind of you to say, Your Grace,” I smirk, gliding my queen across the board, “But you only have the time constraints of one match to flatter me and…” “It appears you are in a checkmate,” I say definitively, placing the piece diagonal to his king whilst tilting my head playfully. He then fixes his gaze at the board, deliberating over his next course of action.
“Alright,” he says calmly, swiftly challenging my queen with a rook, “But if that’s to be the case, then might I suggest we make things interesting?”
“How so?” I ask, moving a pawn.
“Well,” he answers, lifting a piece forward, “Judging by your presence in my room, earlier, it would seem even six months is far too long a wait for you, and so I thought I might offer you another proposal.”
“And what would that be?”
“I figure that in the event you win this match,” he prods, “I could just give you the brooch.” Setting my rook along the side, I raise a brow at him.
“A very tempting offer on your part, but what of the event that I don’t win?” I ask shrewdly. He exchanges a grin.
“You’re so very perceptive, Avalor,” he flirts, acknowledging his being caught. “Alright, I will confess I was hoping to negotiate a date, but…” he says, with widened eyes, “I was going to make it one of your choosing.”
“But you’ll give me the brooch?”
“Certainly, as long as you win, of course,” he says, moving his own rook. I sense his emphasis of the word “win” implies he doesn’t foresee me winning this match, and therefore neither the brooch.
“Then no,” I answer aloofly, knocking one of his pieces on its side. He furrows his brows in bewilderment as though that wasn’t the response he would have liked to hear.
“What?”
“I said no, Your Grace.”
“But, don’t you want the brooch?” he questions, motioning to chase after my rook with his own.
“I do,” I say, adjusting my queen’s placing, “But, I’d rather wait out a tedious six months than make the mistake of entertaining your chivalry any further.”
“Oh,” he replies, moving a pawn.
“Actually,” I interject, considering an alternative approach to acquiring the brooch, “There is something I would like to do.”
“Yes?” he perks up, likely assuming I’ve consented to his deal.
“I’ve decided to throw myself an engagement party soon,” I declare, capturing his queen, “and I would like for you to be there.” He narrows his eyes curiously at me, before taking his turn.
“Forgive me if I misunderstood,” he answers, baffled by my suggestion, “but you wish to celebrate our engagement?”
“Yes,” I affirm aloofly, considering which figure would be best to move, “and I would like to invite a handful of the other noble ladies.” We exchange a steady stare, before I return my attention back to the board. “Might there be a problem, Your Grace?” I inquire, setting my rook towards him. He shakes his head.
“Not at all,” he replies, setting forth a pawn, “Did you have a specific reason in mind?”
Nothing specific," I say ambigulously. Merely to break off our engagement.
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