Chapter 25
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“What are all these chess pieces for?” Seri asked.

She’d been looking through his game cabinet, opening drawers and examining their contents. Brand was pleased that she was feeling comfortable enough to start exploring the room. She’d even asked for a little wine tonight—a rarity for her.

“For chess, obviously.”

He touched her lightly across the back. She didn’t flinch—much.

“Your wine.” He held the glass to her.

“Thank you.”

She took it carefully out of his hand. It was a small glass, and he was hoping that in taking it from him, her fingers would accidentally brush against his. But no such luck. She pried the glass away without touching him, and pulled it in, close to her chest. Brand gritted his teeth. It had been two weeks since Lotte left, and he’d been testing the boundaries of touch. So far, he hadn’t had much luck.

“Do you play chess?” he asked her, going back to the wine tumblers.

“I used to play with my father,” she replied.

“Hm.” He poured himself a glass.

“Do you play?”

“Not in the usual way,” he said.

“What does that mean?”

He turned to look at her. “In my version, the game doesn’t stop until all your opponent’s pieces are gone or the other player surrenders. Every time a king crosses a board, you get another rook. And at the start of each game, both players make up one new rule.”

Seri frowned. “How is that chess?”

“It’s the way I was taught. Truer to life, don’t you think?”

She took a sip of wine.

“Do you want to play?” he asked.

“I don’t see a chess board.”

Brand gestured. The top of the game table flipped over, revealing the black and white chess board on the other side.

“Oh,” Seri said.

“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” he said. “It moves quicker than a normal game. You might enjoy it.”

Seri looked at the drawer of chess pieces and took it out of the cabinet.

“What sort of rules can we make up?” she asked, putting the pieces on the table.

Brand was a little surprised she agreed. He’d assumed that Seri would be insist on playing the proper way. He walked over to the table.

“Anything is permissible,” he said.

“So I could say that I get two moves each turn?”

“And I could say I get three.”

He was standing quite close to her, close enough to observe the way the candlelight flickered across her cheek. Her eyes were on the chess pieces, her hands busily sorting the black from white. He reached in to take a piece, carelessly bumping her hand as she did. She froze, pulled her hands out of the box, and moved away.

“Not a fun game,” she said, “if both sides are trying to see how much they can get away with.”

“Well, we can make it fair.” Brand continued to sort through the pieces, tossing her the black ones and keeping the white for himself. “The rule applies equally to both sides. If you get two moves per turn, so do I. Is that the rule you want?”

“No,” she said. “I’ve always hated how immobile the king is. I want him to have the same power as the queen.”

“Does the queen have the same power as the king?”

“What do you mean?”

“Can she make castles?”

Seri thought. “Yes.”

“This is going to be a brutal game,” he said. “Kings and queens can’t kill pawns. That’s my rule. It will balance out the power, I think.”

Seri sat down. “This will be interesting.”

“Are you good at chess?” Brand asked, sitting down across from her.

“Yes,” she said.

“You’re going to lose.”

He slaughtered her. He knew he would. People who played chess the traditional way could not seem to grasp the new rules. Their minds were still bent to protecting the king. Same with Seri. She tried to adapt, but she fell into old patterns. He watched her as he wiped out piece after piece. She ground her teeth and fisted her hands. And when she finally lost, she folded her arms and let out a puff of breath.

“Well, that was embarrassing,” she said.

“We can play the traditional way, if you like.”

“No,” she said. “We’ll play your way.”

He grinned. “You don’t like to lose, do you?”

“Oh, I love to lose. Every time I lose, I learn something. Before long, I will beat you at your own game.”

“Maybe,” he said, pushing the pieces toward her. “Not any time soon.”

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