So, when she turned those doe eyes on me, face full of sunshine and white teeth, I relented.
She grinned as I slid the dagger back into its sheath and gestured toward the table.
Elva slid her bishop across the board, smirking as she stole one of my pawns.
“Callum told me about your…" She leaned in, cupping her hand around her mouth as if the walls might be listening. “…mission the other day.”
Leave it to Callum. The man couldn’t keep a single secret from her if his life depended on it.
The bishop clanked against the wood on my move, harsher than I intended. “That information,” I muttered, “was supposed to be classified.”
Her eyes glanced down, tongue clicking softly. “Only diagonal, Verena. Remember?”
Gods, this game was torture.
With a dramatic groan, I dragged the piece one space diagonally and lifted my hands as if to say,better?
She nodded, though the corners of her mouth twitched as she swept her queen three spaces ahead. A strand of hair slid down her shoulder, her fingers gracefully catching it and twirling it around.
“Are you okay?” Her voice was soft, like she expected me to say no.
Sweet. That was Elva. Always considerate, always caring. Worrying over me when she was the one who needed guarding. And unnecessary, of course.
I was more than capable of taking care of myself, physically, mentally. And when I wasn’t, that’s what Gemma was for.
I studied the placement of her queen. “Fret not, princess. I can assure you it wasn’t nearly as eventful as Callum likely made it out to be.”
But concern wavered across her features, dimming the glow in her eyes. She dipped her chin, clearing her throat. “Your turn.”
It didn’t take long for boredom to overtake me; my attention fixed on anything but the damn game. My eyes caught the tapestry draped beside the floor-length doors, its woven fibers etched with the history of Luamis.
A woman observed from the threads, her turquoise eyes fixed not on me, but on Elva—watching her fingers hover over the chessboard.
I rose, hand at my dagger when a knock broke the stillness, heavy against the door. I stalked closer, the blade raising as I inched forward, opening the door just enough to see.
As if an actual threat waited for us behind its barrier.
A creased face stared back, brown eyes worn by the sun and years of strain. Or perhaps only from the sight of me.
“Lunch for Princess Elvira, Ms. Vale,” Fritz muttered through the crack.
He used his elbow to nudge the door wider, forcing the maid through with a tray and shoving me back a step with nothing more than his presence.
It wasn’t that Fritz hated me, not openly at least, but he had been Elva’s guardian since she was only a baby, after she lost both her mother and father.
His love for her was built from duty and a deeper promise, an adoration he had once reserved for her mother, Queen Leora. A kind of love that made him territorial.
And though Elva and I had been bound since childhood, though she had called me friend for all her life, I was not a princess. Not even close.
My influence on her?Undesired.
I could still feel the sting from the first time Fritz pulled me aside.Stop inviting her to train,he’d said.Stop putting a dagger in her hand. Stop teaching her to fight. Elva was not a soldier. She had rules, etiquette, a crown-shaped destiny to grow into. She had guards for defense. She didn’t need to know how to wrench free of a grip from behind. Or where to strike to open an artery. She was the most protected royal in Luamis, second only to the king himself.
She was safe.
At least, that was the lie.
Even then the unease never left me. Yes, she was safe... until she wasn’t. And what would the cost be then?
