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Fierce eyes sliced to me, and I froze over a pawn. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
“You did.” She tapped the board. “Go first. I expect your game to be as sharp as your tongue by the time we are finished.”
Troi’s visits became the fuel that got me through those next weeks.
One month into meeting, I realized she was teaching me more than chess, she was teaching me how to manage in the fae realm. Once I understood that, I began to pay closer attention to her words.
“King Brock is hosting his party in two months, a whole month earlier than most years. It’s at his wife’s request, of course, who wants to visit the east islands when the stars grow three times bigger to fill the sky with a rainbow of colors. The stars aren’t the important part.”
I absorbed the information. “The important part is he would do anything for his wife.”
She nodded. “Very good. Use that. However, don’t ever do that move again.”
Her eyes must have seen something on the board that I didn’t.
“Your queen?” she pressed. “It’s open.”
“I’m setting it up for something.” My voice sounded pathetic to my own ears.
Troi tightened the wool over her shoulders and took a sip of wine, letting me study the board. When I came up with nothing, she shook her head. “My bishop can take it.”
I blinked. “Oh. But then I could take your bishop with a pawn.”
She took another sip. “Not worth your queen. I’m going to do it so you learn your lesson.” She crossed the board with the bishop and flicked my queen off the table. It rolled to the floor under my mountain of easels and paintings. She grinned. “This is fun.”
“I’m glad,” I mumbled. The irony of a fallen queen wasn’t lost on me.
I picked at the blue paint on my wrist, leftover from another full day of painting. Talen had taken another mass of my artwork across the realm and as soon as my three months finished, I’d find the paintings and examine them. Dhalia’s story etched itself into my mind until the details were part of me, every moment ingrained so deeply, it couldn’t be forgotten. Her sister’s touch, the fae’s faces, the scratchy neckline of the blood-red dress. It all sat at my fingertips, waiting for me to piece it together, but I needed more.
I moved a piece, and Troi groaned. “You gave up your queen, then didn’t take my bishop with your pawn.” She flicked my pawn off the board.
“I’m not focused today,” I said.
“I see that,” came a voice.
Troi and I both turned to find Bash braced on the balcony wearing a sparrow-tailed overcoat the color of night and a gold, double-banded crown around his forehead. His hand rested on the glass door.
“I’ve come to see if my ally is spending her six months of isolation wisely, and I find her drinking wine and playing games with my sister.” He looked toward the chessboard, where Troi must have been only a few moves away from beating me. Again.
“I am training her,” Troi said, as if training me was a grand mission only she’d been entrusted with.
Bash didn’t come inside the room, as much as I wanted him to. I longed for interaction with someone other than Troi or Talen. My three months were half up, but they already felt like eternity.
“You’re a horrid teacher,” Bash said. “Have you given her anything helpful yet?”
“She mainly just mocks me,” I replied.
Troi lifted her chin. “It’s a style. It’s part of my charm.”
Bash sighed. “Let me do it.”
Troi’s eye twitched. But she slipped off the bed and held out her hand. “Be my guest. I have other work to attend to.”
She gave him an odd look, somewhere between confused and curious but never settling on either, before stealing his chariot and taking to the sky. Bash took her place without another word and set up the board.
I picked up the pieces Troi had been flicking on the ground. Bash glanced at me. “She’s a character.”
I set them down, unsure of what he wanted. His demeanor was calm as always, steady and sure in his movement and quiet in speech. “Troi mentioned she was your protector,” I said, moving my first piece.
