Chapter 35: The Board is Set, Let the Pieces Play

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Darcy leaned back in his chair, his single eye fixed on his partner. Without warning, he reached over the chessboard and flicked Cristin square in the forehead.

“Hey!” protested the attendant, shooting a glare at the eye-patched man. “What was that for?”

With a shake of his head, Darcy moved his piece into place. He swept up yet another one of Cristin’s pieces… for the fifth time in a row. “You’re distracted.”

Cristin bristled at the comment. Despite the immediate anger that flared within him at the words, Cristin could not deny it. Between the two of them, Cristin was the much more talented player. Yet now, he was losing like a novice who had just encountered the game for the first time.

“I am merely worried for the lord,” he muttered as his eyes roamed the board. His fingers hovered indecisively over the different pieces, in search of any chance at turning the game in his favor. “He should have returned a few hours ago.”

“Maybe one of the ladies caught his interest,” offered Darcy dryly.

There was a poignant pause as the two locked eyes.

Suddenly, the two grown men erupted into hysterical giggles.

Cristin wiped a mirthful tear from his eye. “I’d believe that if we were talking of anyone else.” His shoulder still shook with laughter.

Darcy shrugged but a smile played on his lips. “The lord can take care of himself.”

“Not against a half-trained assassin,” Cristin shot back, slamming his piece down with more force than necessary. “Or a poisoned drink. Or stupid brats sticking their noses in places they shouldn’t be in.” He winced as the table wobbled under the impact.

“Or traitorous spies,” Darcy added casually. Picking up his piece, he set it down deliberately. If all went to plan, victory would be secured in the next two moves.

Cristin stiffened, hand stilling. “The lord told you?”

“He didn’t need to.” Darcy shook his head. “When the lord gave me the orders… I figured the rest from that.”

Cristin stared between the game and the captain. Drumming his fingers anxiously against the table, he exhaled sharply. “Just say it. I know you want to.”

Darcy’s gaze softened. He reached across the board to rest his hand firmly on top of Cristin’s, halting the finger taps. “It’s not your fault.”

“Yes, it is!” spat Cristin, expression twisting with anger and self-loathing. “I’m the one who brought them in. The one who trained them. Armed them with knowledge and connections!” Jerking his hand away, he beat his own chest. “I should have seen the signs the moment their intentions strayed from our cause.”

Darcy tilted his head, expression unreadable but voice light.“I didn’t know you were a mind-reader.” He stuck out his hand. “Read my palm?”

Cristin flew out of his seat, eyes blazing. He towered over the other man but Darcy casually reached for his drink, remaining unfazed.

Cristin’s chest heaved as he glared down at his companion. But he was only met with a knowing look. They had knew each other too well.

With a defeated sigh, the attendant sank back into his seat. He buried his face in his hands, voice breaking. “If I hadn’t… If I just…” The words faltered, dropping into a haunted whisper. “The lord would never have had to make this decision if I had just done my job properly.”

Darcy glanced at the other, genuinely surprised. “That’s why you’re upset?”

“I failed our lord,” snapped Cristin. “And now we’re forced to make a dangerous decision that could ruin everything because of it.”

Cristin’s voice wavered as regret laced his words. “I never should have trusted Harmon. Never should have let Elody stay.” Cristin’s head snapped up, body trembling. “If it were up to me, I’d have them both-“

“The lord already made his decision.”

There was the soft scrape of a chess piece sliding across the board.

“I won’t tell you not to feel guilty,” continued Darcy, tone steady, almost soothing. “But what’s done is finished. Now, you focus on what you do best.” He gestured towards the board.

Cristin’s gaze lingered on the other man, suspicion flickering in his eyes.

All of a sudden, his expression sharpened, as something clicked within his mind. Straightening in his seat, the man quickly reached over to move a piece with practiced precision.

Darcy’s smirk curled deeper as his piece was forced to retreat back. They exchanged moves back and forth, a tense rhythm forming as the tides of the game shifted.

Cristin’s earlier hesitance was all but gone, replaced with calculated and deadly precision.

“Come with me on the mission,” Darcy smiled, even though that last move had certainly sealed his defeat. “Let us finish this business with the sisters together. We’ll make sure there are no loose ends… no witnesses.”

Darcy raised his hands, surrendering to the inevitable. The only one who could beat Cristin when he got into his element was currently busy, gallivanting the city alone with his mask.

Cristin stretched his knuckles, eyes gleaming with victory. “Never should have given me inspiration, Darcy,” he taunted, a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Now you’re going to lose.”

Darcy lifted his glass and held it out. “So will our enemies.”

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Elody stared at the open door. Although the Lord of Feldgrau was gone, she shivered. It was as if his icy presence still lingered. She held her breath, ears sharply listening for the footsteps to fade.

Elody’s didn’t dare move, head still pressed low into the mat, every muscle tense as she waited.

Time stretched unbearable until finally, the light tread receded, and the footstep faded into the dulled noises of the Lucky Charm.

Lifting her head slowly, Elody uncurled her clenched fist. She stared down at the beautiful jade ornament in her palm. The intricate carving caught on the candlelight, glinting softly. Despite her untrained eye, Elody could appreciate the excellent craftsmanship. The jade was impossibly smooth, a piece too valuable to belong to a mere courtesan like her.

Elody bit on the inside of her cheek. It seemed like a lifetime ago when she and her sister had been orphans on the streets, fighting for the mere right to survival. Her pickpocketing skills, though rusty, had not failed her now.

The jade ornament glimmered as she closed her fingers over it.

She would not wait for the lord to pass his sentence. Not without having a say in it. Not when she held a piece of leverage in her hands. Surely, this ornament was precious enough to negotiate certain conditions.

Rising to her feet, Elody scanned the room. Her mind raced for a hiding place.

New footsteps, louder now, returned. The heavy but familiar footfall made the artist scramble as panic flared in her chest.

Her breath caught as the doors slide open, and she hastily shoved the ornament beneath one of the ornate pillows. Scrabbling to her feet, the courtesan fell into a respectful bow.

Lady Athena’s sharp eyes regarded the artist. The woman’s sharp gaze dissected the younger like a wolf would its prey, cutting through her form like a knife. “Follow me,” came the harsh command, tone leaving no room for argument.

Elody swallowed hard and nodded. Her movements were graceful, just like the madam liked, as she slid towards the door. Her eyes flickered briefly towards the door before she forced herself to face forward.

Elody resisted the urge to look back again. It would all be fine was the mantra she repeated to herself despite the unease that gripped her.

Lady Athena was not a patient woman. Elody had no choice but to follow her brisk pace. She would come back for the ornament soon.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

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Faye wandered the halls with mild interest, her sharp eyes peered around her surroundings. She was pretty sure she was in a private section of the Lucky Charm she wasn’t supposed to be in, but the realization did little to worry her. Her gaze lingered on the portraits lining the walls. There were collections spanning multiple kingdoms, each its own masterpiece. Among them were even pieces Faye knew were unmistakably from Feldgrau. The madam clearly had refined taste and vast connections.

Faye froze. She peered up at the striking painting of a fearsome general. The warrior’s body was covered in blood and dark feathers while their long hair was entangled within skulls and crimson flowers. A frown pulled at her lips. The painted general’s mask was identical to her own.

Her lips pressed into a thin line, but there was a faint trace of amusement in her eyes.

“Behave, or I shall take your head, fiend,” the velvety voice of a courtesan drifted down the empty corridor. “If you’re good, this Raven General may even reward you.”

Drunken laughter had Faye’s jaw slack in disbelief. They were using her name in such a way? The nerve.

Her fists clenched at her sides. There was a part of her that wished to burst out from the hiding spot and bash some sense into their heads. But the sound of their approach dissuaded her. If word got around that the Raven General was frequenting such places… Faye could only huff in disappointment. The encounter would bring more trouble than satisfaction.

“Right this way, my lord,” the courtesan purred.

Faye flattened herself against the wall, tensing as she watched their shadows across the walls. The couple rounded the corner.

The brave and infamous Raven General flung herself into the nearest empty room. She held her breath, crouching low. Eyes wide, she crawled towards the corner of the room, praying that they wouldn’t notice. And waited.

A thud broke the sudden silence, followed by giggling.

“Not here!” gasped the courtesan. She pulled at her customer, urging him further into the Lucky Charm’s private rooms.

Thankfully, the couple were quick to move on.

Sighing in relief, Faye leaned back only to hiss in pain. Something had cut her palm. She reached down to pull out the offending object. Balancing it in the center of her palm, she glared down at the object.

The jade ornaments had slipped out from under the satin pillow.

Despite the sting, irritation gave way to curiosity. Faye turned over its cool surface in her hands. So smooth, she marveled.

The jade ornament winked in the dark. Why did it look so familiar, Faye wondered, trying to place where she had seen the carvings on the ornament.

Without a second thought, Faye slipped the ornament into her pocket. It had drawn her blood so now it was hers.

Faye slid open the doors, holding her breath. Glancing around at the empty corridor, she stepped back into the hallway, movements silent.

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Nikolai stepped out into the cool night, letting the crisp air wash over him. Lifting the mask, he scratched his nose. It was an appreciated reprieve from the cloister of perfumed scents in the Lucky Charm. The ice prince held back a sneeze. Noticing the presence behind him, he coughed and lowered the mask back into place.

“My lord?” a soft voice called.

Nikolai turned back, glad for the shadow of the mask that concealed his shocked expression.

Standing at the backdoor of the Lucky Charm was a beautiful pale woman. She bore an uncanny resemblance to Elody, if not for her shorter stature. Her presence was quiet, clad in a muted grey dress that practically blended into the wall. Her long features and downcast eyes confirmed her identity. This was Elody’s twin sister, the infamous musician, Harmon.

For a moment, Nikolai considered leaving without a word. Instead, he inclined his head in acknowledgement.

“You work for Lord Cristin, do you not?” Harmon’s voice was barely above a whisper.

The masked lord gave a brief nod.

Harmon stepped forward. The shadows seemed to cling to her as her dour expression darkened. “Please extend my apologies to him.” Her hands clenched tight, betraying her unease as she bowed her head low.

Nikolai stiffened, caught off guard. Harmon was a renowned courtesan, known for her silent pride and yet here she stood before a messenger, humbled and pleading.

“My sister has been foolish,” the woman kept her head bowed, voice measured. “It was my fault. I should have taught her better.” The rose-like lips, painted white and pink, pursed. “I will accept any punishment the lord sees fit.” There was a pause before the woman’s tone hardened. “For both of us.”

The masked man offered no response.

“But we are loyal to the lord,” Harmon insisted, trying to break the silence pressing down on her. “My sister never asked for this life,” Harmon hung her head like she had committed a grave crime. “She stayed because of me.”

The streets were eerily quiet, empty in the early hours. Even the clamor and noise of the Lucky Charm had died down to a faint hum.

The masked man shifted, leveling her with a hard stare behind the mask . “Lord Cristin serves the Lord of Feldgrau.”

Harmon stiffened, glancing around warily. “There are many ears around,” she warned. “You should be careful with your words.”

The masked man merely shrugged, unmoved by the warning.

“I merely wanted to clarify. Any grievance you hold is against the Lord of Feldgrau’,” answered the masked man, tone cold. “He is who you should blame... or hate.”

Harmon twisted her fingers behind her back. “And why should I hate my benefactor?”

The masked man’s reply was blunt. “You claim to be loyal but you failed to stop your sister from entertaining young Lord Langard, sharing our secrets with him. Nor did you stop her from meeting with the queen.” His voice turned sharp. “What happens to courtesans who have a loose tongue?”

But Harmon’s eyes widened in terror. “Elody spoke to the queen?” Her vision blurred as the revelation crash down on her. How could her sister be so stupid? Gossip with the Langard boy was one thing, but to tell him their greatest secret and entertain the queen. It was betrayal.

“Treason,” she murmured faintly. By the old laws of Feldgrau, they would be executed, rotting bodies hung off the Feldgrau Wall as an example to others.

The musician fell to her knees. The mud soaked her dress. Harmon stared, unseeing, into the space before her.

The masked man turned on his heels. The dark cloak trailed behind him, wrapping the figure in shadows.

“What will you do to her?” Harmon’s voice rang out, the sweet softness long gone and replaced with cold steel. “My lord! Answer me! What will you do to my sister?”

Nikolai did not bother looking back.

He heard the creak and slam of the backdoor behind him. Would they go into hiding or seek the help of their new benefactors, he wondered faintly.

Reaching the fork in the road, Nikolai paused, frowning. The streets stretched before him, unfamiliar and long.

The ice prince scratched the back of his neck. This was slightly embarrassing. The Lord of Feldgrau was lost.

Blue eyes lifted up to stare at the night sky. He squinted against the moonlight. Perhaps the rooftops would be more familiar.

With a resigned sigh, Nikolai reached into his pockets. It was best to secure his items so they would not be lost on the climb up.

His movements stilled. In half disbelief, his fingers searched the pockets frantically. But it was too late.

The jade ornament was gone.

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It was long past a decent hour to be up and about… even for an establishment like the Lucky Charm.

Slipping out the window, Nikolai could not get out of there fast enough.

He wasted no time in pulling himself onto the rooftops. The night wind was a temporary relief. Passing to catch his breath, the ice prince kicked at the tiling. The jade ornament was gone. Either it was lost before he had even arrived or someone else had found it. He wasn’t sure what was worse.

Peering over the edge, he braced himself for the jump and lept onto the haystack below. The sharp hay jabbed at his skin. Brushing himself off, Nikolai adjusted the dark clock, now heavy with mud and dried leaves. Nikolai rounded the corner, stepping into the shadow.

Rounding the corner, Nikolai slammed a fist against the stone wall. His knuckles stung, bleeding slightly.

“Damn everything,” he muttered angrily.

This night was cursed.

A muffled sound broke the silence.

Nikolai froze, head tilting slightly as he strained to listen. He wasn’t alone. It was a faint noise that should have been lost to the wind. A pained grunt, soft but distinct filled the air, followed by the unmistakable noise of a fist meeting flesh.

His jaw tightened. Someone was getting their ass handed to them.

Nikolai banged his head against the wall, letting a moment of defeat wash over him.

“Not so tough now, lady,” a man’s voice jeered, cutting through the empty night. “Where’d all that fight go?”

Nikolai let out a slow breath. It was impossible for the jade ornament to have fallen out. It must have been taken. But by who?

“I could take all,” a woman slurred, voice unsteady. There was a pause, accompanied by a hiccup. “Four of you, or is it five? I…”

Blue eyes flashed open. That voice.

She sounded disoriented, barely coherent. The words trailed off. “What is going on? Why is my head-“ followed by another grunt, louder than the first. Something, or someone, fell to the ground.

Nikolai edged around the corner, heart pounding despite himself. His eyes widened at the sight.

Faye knelt in the dirt, surrounded by three men twice her size. Her head hung low, staring at the dirt. Her proud braid had come undone. The loose dark hair clung to her face.

Nikolai stepped forward, then stopped. These men were smaller than Darcy and Cristin, Faye could handle them. Easily.

If he interfered, she would have questions for him. Ones that he didn’t want to entertain after the disastrous night.

Faye could handle herself. She always did.

But then the leader of the sorry bunch lifted Faye by the collar of her cloak. He laughed as he hauled her up by one hand.

“Let me,” she coughed, “go.” She clawed weakly at the hold lacking the uncanny strength she usually possessed. “Unhand me.”

In her expression was something Nikolai had never seen before.

Fear.

The man sneered, lifting his fist in the air. “Take this, you sorry-“

A loud crack echoed in the stillness of the night.