Chapter 33: Chapter 32

Dalliah

“So where did you learn how to play?” Ruairi breaks the silence as I struggle to decide which piece is the better sacrifice for my next turn.

The castle isn’t limited in its movement, but the horse can jump over any player that’s scattered across the board. It’s hard to know which I’ll need the most later down the line.

It’s not until I commit to my plan that I actually process his words, realising it requires an answer, worse still a personal answer. “My mother taught me,”

The words pain me, as since he killed her he doesn’t deserve to know anything about her; but he doesn’t know that and I can’t let him figure it out. Why couldn’t life be as simple as this game?

“How did your mother know? Was she a servant?”

I know that he’s trying to get to know me, making an effort to be polite rather than play in silence, but I wish he’d stop. Even if it were anyone else asking me about this, the pain is still fresh and it hurts me to think of her.

“No,” I cough to clear my throat, “No, she was a homemaker.”

From my tone, it’s clear that it’s not a pleasant subject for me and he lets it drop thankfully for the next few moves, but it’s apparently impossible for him to do so altogether. That would be far too convenient for me.

“Did your father teach her? What did he do?” I try not to wince. I mean, what is this, an interrogation or something?

“I don’t know who taught her,” Truth, “But my father was a farmer.” Lie.

After all this time, I still don’t like lying. It almost bothers me that I’ve gotten so good at it, but I guess the alternative isn’t worth considering.

“What about you, who taught you?” I turn this around as he’ll like me participating and a small part of me would like to know. This is a northern game after all and he’s from the southern islands.

Like clockwork, his right hand moves to scratch his neck, telling me that this is a mutually tricky subject. Good, let him get a taste of his own medicine if he’s so insistent on dishing it out.

“My father.”

I don’t know if the reason he said it through his teeth is because I have him cornered, or because it’s that bad. Either way, I let myself enjoy seeing him as uncomfortable as I was only a few moments ago.

He removes himself from check, but with a smile that I can’t hold back, I push him right back in, “And who taught him?” How’s that for a follow-up question? Not so fun, eh?

“My grandfather.”

His cheeks are starting to go red with frustration, and this time when he unchecks himself, I let him. It’s too much fun having the Red King at my mercy to have it all end now, even if it is with my victory.

“Now, Ruairi, that’s not a very detailed answer.” I tease but stop myself from laughing when I realise that this is the first time I’ve called him by his first name.

He realises it too.

Like a wave, all of the annoyance leaves his face as it lights up, and I mentally curse myself for being so open with him. Yes, it’s fun to get under his skin but I shouldn’t let myself get too close to it. He’ll get the wrong impression, which is almost as bad as him getting the right one.

“Well, here’s me thinking you were being difficult, when really you were just trying to get to know me. How sweet, Doll.”

I scowl at the name which only deepens when I witness his next move on the board. It’s one I foolishly didn’t expect, and not only is this conversation going another way now, but so is the game.

I’m a fool, I should have taken the win when I could and left it there. Now he can drag this out and maybe even beat me. No, he can’t do that, can he?

“Me, difficult? I wouldn’t dare, Your Majesty.” I don’t look up from the pieces as I try to recover, messing up once again by being sarcastic with him which I know he’ll love more than hate.

I mean, I didn’t even know what sarcasm was until I met his sister and I inwardly curse her for rubbing off on me.

“If you wanted to know something Doll, just ask. My story is no secret… even if I don’t like to talk about it.”

I swallow hard as I try to think, because to me his ‘story’ as he calls it is a secret, that is if it’s anything more than invading our continent. It would be useful to know more about him, it might help keep my distance but like last time I might any up finding out more than I bargained for.

Do I really want to know my enemy?

“Why did you do it? Why did you come here? Was it to get even or did you have another reason?” This is the first time I have dared show any sort of emotion towards his invasion and I am very aware of how close I’m toeing the line just now.

I’m fairly certain he could have me killed, just for my tone but my gut tells me that it’ll be okay. I need the answer more than I need forgiveness anyway, I didn’t realise how much until it was out there.

The continent invading Eradeo is something I’m aware of, it was the catalyst that started the whole war, but wouldn’t reclaiming independence be enough? Did he have to kill the royal families and then take it all for himself as well? To me it seems excessive, and now that I know Ruairi, have seen the sort of man he can be, I wonder why.

He laughs in a way that makes it obvious it’s not from humour, “Cutting right to the chase then, are we?”

I release a breath, as while his tone is irritated, it doesn’t indicate any imminent punishment for my impertinence. That’s something at least, but I remain quiet, letting him choose when to speak.

“You know your kingdoms invaded ours first, don’t you?” He starts and I nod, not trusting my voice not to push him further.

“Do you know what they did when they invaded us?” He asks, and when I don’t reply he repeats, “Do you?”

I hesitate, “Claimed land? Fishing rights?”

As a commoner, I’m not expected to know anything, but it’s clear that he’s wanting me to say something. Even if I was to be honest with what I know, there wasn’t much my mother was able to tell me either, but I do recall how it was the water territory that was the most advantageous. Apparently, the islands had more luck with catching fish or something.

“More like lives, Dalliah.” His voice is so low I can bearly make out the words, but end up wishing I couldn’t, “Ask any Eradeo citizen in this camp and they’ll tell you a loved one lost in the initial takeover.”

My mouth falls open in disbelief, that’s almost everyone here who has lost someone. How many lives were taken? How is it even possible that I don’t know this?

“For me, it was my uncle who was our king, my cousin, the heir and his pregnant wife,” His voice breaks slightly, “Then there was my father. All gone in the fight for water territory.” He practically spits the last two words.

“I-I didn’t know.”

I want to apologise for my assumption and for my blunt question, but there’s nothing I can say that would change the facts or the conflict that lies between the two of us. Especially when only I know the full picture.

“Well now you do,” He tries to force a smile, as if this weren’t a gut-wrenching topic for the both of us, “And I think you’ve won.” He gestures to the long-forgotten board.

I look down to find my pieces placing his into the unmistakable position of checkmate. When we started this game I thought I’d be happier to beat him but all I feel is numb.

It seems I’m not the only person who has lost family as part of the larger conflict between kingdoms. It’s impossible to know who’s right or wrong in a scenario where innocent lives are lost, but all I do know is that between the sides, it’s unfortunate that ours aren’t the same.