She watched Chiona go. The proud, strong Dusk heir looked broken; head bent under the weight of grief, her steps short and hurrying. She disappeared into the midnight gloom that hung between the streetlamps, whisking away like a ghost into the night. Madeira waited until the sound of her soft shoes scuffing against the stones faded into the night, then all at once she let her composure break.
Her eyes dried up instantly, and a smile cracked wide and wild across her face. Her eyes burned with blue fire, a deep surprise and wild elation. She had won. She had won. She had pulled all her resources, made use of every item, skill, and contact at her disposal, and it worked. She was one rung higher, one step closer, to her ultimate goal. She was getting there. She was going to make it!
Madeira lifted her arms, clasping hands with an invisible partner, and began to waltz to music only she could hear. She had to study harder with Madame Belladonna, had to apply everything she learned to seduce the fragile, heartsick Chiona. And then... She imagined her invisible partner turning beneath her upraised arm, and caught them by the waist, lowing them into a dip. This is how they'd dance on their wedding day. Chiona would be dressed all in white, and she would be happy in her wife's arms. All of Lhavit would be there to witness the union of the richest, most powerful Tower and the capable, beloved foreigner. Aldgare would be pleased, and watch them with his trademarked enigmatic smile. And why wouldn't he be? Wouldn't she be a worthy daughter in law? Wouldn't she be a credit to the his Tower? To Lhavit? And once the old man retired, perhaps with some illness of the body or mind (and if it was induced, so what? Who would suspect, when mages have such notoriously frail constitutions) wouldn't she be the perfect partner to help her wife run the city's richest, most powerful Tower? Her mouth watered at the thought of sinking her teeth into the ripe throat of this city’s controlling head, and turning it any way she pleased. Didn't they understand? She wasn't Dusk's little pet foreigner anymore; some gift all wrapped up and pawned off by the Cravens in exchange for Dusk knowledge. She was the one in control now.
"Hullo Miss, are you ready to play my game?"
Madeira gasped, tripping over her own feet as she startled out of her waltz. The old man from the tavern was there beneath the shadow of one of the decorative trees that dotted the park. He was seated at a rickety folding table it appeared he brought himself. Across from him was one empty chair.
He patted the heavy square bag on the ground beside him, and smiled his crooked, oblivious smile. "You promised. So, are you ready?" He motioned her over, and to her surprise she felt her body obeying him. Before the conscious thought had even reached her mind she found herself sitting on the empty folding chair. "Wonderful. Okay, lets see... You're not the dice type, are you? Too much chance involved. Checkers? No, no, too simple. Cards? Ah, yes, I sense a talented bluffer in you for certain. But no, I think your game must be... Chess?" He took out a heavy and shockingly pristine chessboard. The base was a solid lacquered wood, inlaid with alternating white and black marble. "Yes, yes, we shall set up our soldiers on the battlefield." From a drawer built into the base he took out two marble chess sets, passing her the white pieces.
Her eyes dried up instantly, and a smile cracked wide and wild across her face. Her eyes burned with blue fire, a deep surprise and wild elation. She had won. She had won. She had pulled all her resources, made use of every item, skill, and contact at her disposal, and it worked. She was one rung higher, one step closer, to her ultimate goal. She was getting there. She was going to make it!
Madeira lifted her arms, clasping hands with an invisible partner, and began to waltz to music only she could hear. She had to study harder with Madame Belladonna, had to apply everything she learned to seduce the fragile, heartsick Chiona. And then... She imagined her invisible partner turning beneath her upraised arm, and caught them by the waist, lowing them into a dip. This is how they'd dance on their wedding day. Chiona would be dressed all in white, and she would be happy in her wife's arms. All of Lhavit would be there to witness the union of the richest, most powerful Tower and the capable, beloved foreigner. Aldgare would be pleased, and watch them with his trademarked enigmatic smile. And why wouldn't he be? Wouldn't she be a worthy daughter in law? Wouldn't she be a credit to the his Tower? To Lhavit? And once the old man retired, perhaps with some illness of the body or mind (and if it was induced, so what? Who would suspect, when mages have such notoriously frail constitutions) wouldn't she be the perfect partner to help her wife run the city's richest, most powerful Tower? Her mouth watered at the thought of sinking her teeth into the ripe throat of this city’s controlling head, and turning it any way she pleased. Didn't they understand? She wasn't Dusk's little pet foreigner anymore; some gift all wrapped up and pawned off by the Cravens in exchange for Dusk knowledge. She was the one in control now.
"Hullo Miss, are you ready to play my game?"
Madeira gasped, tripping over her own feet as she startled out of her waltz. The old man from the tavern was there beneath the shadow of one of the decorative trees that dotted the park. He was seated at a rickety folding table it appeared he brought himself. Across from him was one empty chair.
He patted the heavy square bag on the ground beside him, and smiled his crooked, oblivious smile. "You promised. So, are you ready?" He motioned her over, and to her surprise she felt her body obeying him. Before the conscious thought had even reached her mind she found herself sitting on the empty folding chair. "Wonderful. Okay, lets see... You're not the dice type, are you? Too much chance involved. Checkers? No, no, too simple. Cards? Ah, yes, I sense a talented bluffer in you for certain. But no, I think your game must be... Chess?" He took out a heavy and shockingly pristine chessboard. The base was a solid lacquered wood, inlaid with alternating white and black marble. "Yes, yes, we shall set up our soldiers on the battlefield." From a drawer built into the base he took out two marble chess sets, passing her the white pieces.
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