"I wasnae lookin' fer treasure."
"So what were ye lookin’ fer?" Harald's voice was mild. “Why ye keep lyin' tae me."
Enya's chest tightened. "I told ye, I was just?—"
“All I need ye tae dae is trust me.”
Enya could feel the weight of the moment, the choice standing clear before her.
Tell him the truth and betray Finley. Or keep lying and lose whatever fragile connection was building between them.
"Tell me." Harald settled into the chair near the chess board. "Can ye play chess?"
"A little. I’ve played with Amelia."
"Really?" Harald blinked. “All right then, let’s have a wager. Winner chooses what the other must teach them."
Enya moved to the board, studying the pieces with false intensity. "So ye’re saying if I win, ye teach me somethin'. If ye win, I'll... I'll tell ye what ye want tae ken."
It was a coward's bargain, a way to let fate decide instead of her own conscience. But Harald seemed to understand anyway.
"Alright," he said softly. "We'll play."
They played in silence at first, the only sounds the soft click of pieces on the board and the crackle of the fire. Enya had learned chess from her father before he had died and had played countless games with Amelia over the years to pass long winter nights.
But Harald played like he fought—with strategy and patience, always thinking three moves ahead.
Still, Enya held her own. She took his bishop, sacrificed a knight to protect her queen, pressed her advantage when she found it.
And slowly, she realized something.
He was letting her win.
Not obviously, not in any way she could prove. But she could see it in the moves he chose, the opportunities he didn't take. He was good enough to demolish her if he wanted. Instead, he was making it close.
Making it matter.
"Yer move," Harald said, his voice rough.
Enya studied the board. She could see the path to checkmate now—three moves, maybe four. If she took it, she'd win. The wager would be hers.
And she'd never have to tell him the truth.
Her hand hovered over her queen. It would be so easy. So simple.
But when she looked up and met Harald's eyes across the board, she saw something there that made her breath catch.
Hope. He was hoping she'd win. Hoping she'd take the escape he was offering.
Because he didn't want to hear the truth any more than she wanted to tell it.
"Checkmate," Enya whispered, moving her queen into position.
Harald studied the board for a long moment, then tipped his king over with a soft click.
"So it is," he said. "Well played, Lady Cameron."
"Ye let me win."
