"It's been so long," Luca mumbled, looking out the carriage window.

In his hands, he was absent-mindedly playing with a pen.

Is there some significance to that pen?

Remlend noted how well made it was, with a dark-green marbleized lacquer and what appeared to be a platinum coat.

There must be something to it. Henry had given it to Luca in his dying moments.

Remlend gazed out of the carriage window as well.

Not that it matters. I'm not being paid to watch and report on Luca Frey. Why do unpaid labor?

Outside, bright green farm fields stretched as far as the eye could see. Everything had a slightly golden tone to it with the low-hanging sun on the horizon.

Men and women standing in the fields waved toward the carriage. Luca smiled and waved back.

They had long left the Humton Forest and entered the territory of Ascot. In the distance, a cluster of white buildings with red clay roofs was situated. That was the Town of Ascot itself. The buildings appeared to glow in the warm light of the setting sun.

It was a quaint little town with about five hundred people.

The two carriages rolled through the town's open gates and were met with a busy town of people and traveling merchants going about the end of their day. The residents were quick to spot among the out-of-towners; they smiled and waved toward Luca.

Luca continued waving back.

"Ahhh, we're almost at grandma's villa!" he exclaimed.

Remlend gazed up towards the villa in the center of the town, situated on the lone hill.

The Town of Ascot, with its lush surrounding farmlands and lovely buildings, was something straight out of a picture book.

However, that's not how Remlend viewed this town.

His eyes narrowed toward the large gates that closed behind them.

It's not a town. It's a fortress.

The villa in the middle of the walled town had an unobstructed view of everything taking place within the territory. The farmland fields supplied the town with food, but more importantly, they served as long stretches of flat land such that no incoming parties could come with the element of surprise.

"I forgot how friendly everyone here is," Luca said and continued waving back toward the residents.

And then there's the townsfolk.

Remlend's eyes gazed at one particular woman with long blonde hair, large blue eyes, and a light pink puffed-out dress. In her hands was a basket full of lilies.

Just how many knives is she hiding?

Remlend guessed there were at least forty knives based on the few slight protrusions in her dress and sleeves.

The residents of the Town of Ascot were not ordinary. At least a third of them worked directly for Madame Ruth Arankagul in ensuring the matriarch's life was unharmed.

The Frey Manor was exceptionally well guarded, with only the absolute best being able to sneak in undetected. However, the Town of Ascot was impenetrable.

The carriages rolled up the hill and into the villa's spacious courtyard. Bright pink bougainvillea flower vines crawled over the white villa walls, and a dozen servants dressed in black were waiting alongside the entrance path.

By the looks of them, they are all trained to do away with any dangers.

Remlend jumped out of the carriage and held the door open for Luca.

He gazed towards Madame Ruth Arankagul herself, standing in the center between the servants. She alone shattered the fantasy of this being a regular quaint little town and villa. Her aura was that of a mob boss.

Madame Ruth Arankagul's long gray hair was tucked into a bun, her head was held high, and her painted dark red lips were pursed together. Even the black and silver cane she leaned on with both arms looked intimidating.

A young man stood beside her, dressed as a butler, but Remlend could tell his profession was more as a trained killer.

"Grandma!" Luca exclaimed and rushed out of the carriage with open arms.

The servants on either side of the walkway smiled and exchanged knowing looks.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Madame Ruth Arankagul's expression softened, and she handed her cane to the butler beside her. Her arms stretched out to embrace Luca.

"Ah, Luca, it's so good to see you," she smiled brightly and held him in her arms. "Oh goodness. Are they not feeding you properly? Come, let's put a little meat on those bones. Dinner is ready."

The great matriarch was a powerful and dangerous woman. Yet, in a split second, this boy changed her aura to that of a soft and loving grandmother. The change was astounding, even if it was the second time Remlend had witnessed it.

His eyes narrowed on Luca, who led his grandmother back inside the villa.

Perhaps Luca was never soft and ordinary either?

Remlend remembered the large scorched portion on the road.

Just what did Luca do to not leave even a trace of Henry's body?

* ~ * ~ * ~ *

"You have three riding horses but only two guards," Grandma commented, looking back. "Did something happen on the road?"

I gazed back and saw Denise pulling Jasper out of the carriage and helping him sit in a wheelchair. They both stifled long yawns.

Did they sleep on the ride over? Don't tell me they managed to sleep through the attack?

"Yes, we were attacked." I felt my voice crack. "Henry died."

Grandma's soft hand caressed my arm. A familiar and comforting scent of honeysuckle exuded from her.

"You have grown," she said. "You seem to be taking the attack much better than last year, and no one had died that time."

I barely remembered what happened last year, just that it prompted me to never go outside the capital ever again.

But to think that no one even died then?

I sighed. "I suppose I have grown."

I gazed up at the sky with its pink and purple hues. It reminded me of my death on the battlefield in my original life.

A falcon flew out of one of the villa's towers with a shriek.

"Ah," I remembered. "I need to borrow one of your falcons to send a message to Micah. And I'm also expecting a dove from Natalia Ashford–please don't have it shot down."

"Natalia Ashford? You certainly have grown." Grandma tightened her grip on me as we walked up the steps inside the villa. "But first, let's get some food in you."

My stomach growled in response.

I smiled. "Fine, food first."

***

"Peep!"

The food here is so delicious!

Leona gobbled up food from a plate set aside just for her.

Grandma looked on, bemused by the sight of the little chick.

"You said the bird's name was Leona?" She asked. "Look at her appetite. You could learn a thing or two from her."

I picked up some charred brussels sprouts and tossed them in my mouth.

"She's still growing, so she needs to eat a lot," I said after swallowing my food.

"Well, you had better eat more than her. I can't imagine your parents will be happy to learn that I fed a tiny bird more than my grandson." Grandma leaned back and smiled.

We sat in an intimately sized dining area with large windows overlooking the town. It was just the two of us. The sun had long set, the sky had grown dark, and the view of the town changed to bright yellow lights spread across. Additional smaller lights were spread across the farmlands.

"Madame." The young butler came over and handed grandma a vial with a pink liquid inside.

She downed the liquid and handed the vial back to him. "Thank you, Ben."

I frowned.

"Grandma, what was that?" I asked.

I had noted her taking a pink vial earlier today after we had entered the villa.

"Oh, it's nothing to worry about. At my age, your body stops working as you might like. That just helps me get through the day."

"Peep!"

Isn't it the same pink liquid that Henry was given?

I crossed my arms and leaned back. I had come to a similar conclusion. The scent and color was unmistakable. It had a citrusy, slightly sweet fragrance with a hint of mint.

"That's a Red Poppy Potion," I said. "It's a strong pain reliever and cough suppressant."

My eyes wandered over to her skin and eyes. There was a slight yellowish tint. Looking at her arms, there were signs of bruising, and her ankles were swollen.

"How long have you been taking it?" I asked. "You're showing signs of liver failure. You're dying."

I didn't need to know the future to understand that my grandmother would die soon. I wasn't trained in proper medicine, but I knew the tell-tale signs of when someone's body was breaking down.

"Hmmm, you can tell?" Grandma smiled and leaned back in her chair as well. "It was a choice of living my days out in excruciating pain or living a shorter life, but one that was manageable."

"You know you're dying, then?" I asked. My voice cracked.

"We all die at one point or another, child. It's about how we live our life that matters."

I sighed.

I knew she would pass soon when I came here, but a small part of me hoped it was preventable. I thought that perhaps I might be able to save her.

"Is there anything else that can be done?" I asked.

"Luca, my dear sweet boy, I have sought out many resources, as have your parents. However, there is nothing that can be done about my condition. At this point, I just wish to pass away with dignity."

"Is there anything you'd like me to do before you pass?" I asked.

If I couldn't save her, I could fulfill a wish of hers.

Grandma smiled. Her dark lips widened.

"I do have something in mind." She waved over her butler. "Ben, bring the board and pieces here."

Another two servants quickly picked up and towed away the remaining dishes on the table without being told to do so.

"Peep!"

Wait! I was saving the marmalade cake for last!

"Excuse me, could you bring a slice of that marmalade cake and a cup of tea?" I asked one of the servants.

"Certainly," the woman bowed and left.

Ben entered with a wooden checkerboard and two sets of marble pieces of various sizes and styles. He sat it squarely in the middle of us.

"You'll play white, and I'll play black." Grandma began to set up the board.

"Peep!"

Oh? What is this game?

Leona fluttered, and her small yellow body hopped around the wooden board.

"Chess?" I said, half-replying to Leona. "I've only played it a handful of times, and I'm not very good at it."

"No one is good at anything when they start." Grandma finished setting up her pieces. "But if you make an effort, over time, you'll improve."

I finished setting up my white pieces.

"Grandma, you want to teach me chess before you pass away? Is that it?" I gazed up from the board and into her sharp gray eyes.

"No, child." She smiled. "I want you to beat me."

I blinked in confusion. There were only a few days before she would pass on. It was an impossible request. But then again, only I knew just how short her time remaining in this world was.

"Oh, don't be so nervous. I don't expect you to beat me today."

A servant came by and placed a marmalade cake slice and a cup of dark tea beside me on the table.

I took the tea and took a sip. Notes of vanilla and undertones of bergamot wafted from the cup. My eyes gazed across the checkerboard, and I moved one of the central pawns forward.

"But one day, I expect you'll beat me," Grandma slid one of her pawns forward. "After all, it was your mother—your birth mother, I mean—that introduced this game to me."