Chapter 4

- Elly -

"Don't just stand there silent like a corpse. It is uncomfortable," the Count said.

"Forgive me?" Elly answered absent-mindedly. The Count took a lot less time to undress, but still enough that she had spaced out, wondering what kind of man Sir Lanclair would be. She couldn't quite decide what the feeling in her stomach was supposed to be. It should have been excitement, but that seemed to have settled, instead it might have been dread.

"You may talk," the Count said.

"Oh."

"So?"

"Well ..." Elly said. She didn't know what would have been an appropriate thing to say to a Count, even less what this specific one would have been interested to hear about. Certainly not the concerns on her mind right now.

"... I asked my father about chess the other day. He told me not to stick my nose where it doesn't belong."

"I take your father is very old-fashioned then?" the Count said.

"I suppose so."

"Are you truly interested, in the game, I mean?"

"Maybe."

The Count slipped out behind the dressing screen, still very much not finished buttoning up his shirt and grabbed a wooden box from the shelf.

Elly tried not to look but there hadn't been many chances in her life to see the naked chest of a man. It might have been pure curiosity, or it might have been because he was somewhat handsome, she didn't really know.

"Sit," the Count said. He placed the box upon the table, before his slim fingers went to button up the last bit of his shirt.

"I am afraid I can't." What maid sat down on a table during her work, after all?

"Sit," the Count repeated and took a chair for himself. While he opened the box and started placing its content on the table Elly dared to let her curiosity win once more. She slowly sat down and stroke her dress straight.

"The rules are not that difficult, really, as long as you remember the moves every piece is allowed to take," the Count said. He took up every black and white piece and explained its name and purpose before placing it on the board without paying too much attention to Elly herself however, who couldn't help but let a slim smile sneak upon her lips.

And before she knew it, she played her first game of chess and forgotten were all worries about appropriate behaviour or anything else for that matter.

"That was a very bad move," the Count said, among other advice. "You ought to protect your king, not your knight."

"I like the horses better, though," Elly said. Her fingertips moved over the wood carved figure.

The Count scowled. He shook his head as if frustrated, but the corners of his lips twisted upwards, like he tried not to smile. He took another move. "Check mate."

Elly leaned over the board to realize she had indeed lost.

"Not that bad for a first try. But you need to anticipate the moves of your opponent more," the Count said and resumed to place the chess pieces back to their starting position.

"So it is difficult after all," Elly said.

"Only for the simple minded."

Elly pursed her lips, not quite sure if that should have been an insult or a compliment. She could remember the names of the pieces and where she was allowed to place them, but apparently failed to see beyond that.

"That gossip you mentioned before. Tell me about it," the Count eventually said, as if making casual conversation, his eyes pinned on the chess board.

"Oh, I'd rather not. It is not many pleasant things the people have to say."

"About me, you mean?" the Count said and glimpsed at Elly.

She averted her gaze. "Well." A proper answer not to offend the Count wouldn't form in her head. She was too invested in keeping the moves of his chess pieces in mind.

"Then at least tell me, what you think."

The strategy Elly had planned slipped out of her grasp.

She looked up from the chess board to find the Count looking straight at her. Observing her and her reaction. Withthose enchanting blue eyes.

"I think I know not enough of you to be a proper judge," Elly said. She grabbed the pawn she had won from him tight in her hand, fighting for the courage to speak her mind. "But I don't suppose a man with the patience to teach chess to a maid is likely to fall to a state of unreasonable slaughter."

The Count leaned back in his chair. With a grim frown and tensed jaw he crossed his arms over his chest. "That's what the gossip says? That I slaughtered the people of New Hamsville?"

Heat rushed to Elly's cheeks. She shouldn't have spoken after all. "Among other things," she mumbled, trying to focus anywhere but the man in front of her.

"Tell me," the Count said with a voice of ice and a face that very much looked like not all the stories told about him had been tall tales.

"Maybe I should retreat for the night," Elly pressed out and stood up from her chair a little quicker than would have been polite.

The Count let out a heavy sigh. With it the tension left his face. Elly wandered her eyes over it longer than she should have, but he didn't look away either.

"I apologize. I did not mean to upset you," he finally said.

And that upset Elly more, or rather confused her. What Count apologized to a maid?

"Sit, please. There is awfully little to do to kill time in this supposedly grand castle."

Please?

"I suppose I should," Elly mumbled. The Count's every wish had to be fulfilled, she'd better grow ears and a tail right that moment. Just that he hadn't asked of her to bark like a dog.

Carefully she sat back down.

A while the game went on in silence. Uncertain what to do, Elly wrung her hands in her lap, whenever it was not her turn. "Do you play a lot?" she dared to ask then.

"Every chance I get, although that's not many," the Count said.

"Many enough to have a chess set with you at all times."

"That is more because it is a keepsake."

"Oh, I see," Elly said. "May I ask of whom?"

"You may ask me anything, but that does not mean I will answer," the Count said. A teasing smile tucked at his lips, that had Elly smile a little herself.

They continued one game after another, none that Elly would have won, with little talk in between, until she couldn't help but yawn. She glanced at the grandfather clock, one of the works of her father in his younger days. A beautiful piece made from dark wood decorated with fancy jewels.

It had become quite late.

The Count's attention followed hers. "I suppose we should call it a night," he said.

"As it pleases you, my Lord," Elly said. She wasn't exactly eager to stand outside on stand-by until the morning with nothing to do but wonder about the sudden changes in her life. She feared she might discover she wasn't as pleased by them as she had expected to be.

What if Sir Lanclair was a terrible man? What if she hated him? Could she spend her entire life with him then, only to escape her boredom of the moment?

The Count gestured Elly to stand up and so she did, a little more reluctant than would have been appropriate.

"Thank you for your patience," Elly said. "I'm to be married soon, therefore I lay back my duties. I wish you a continued pleasant stay at our humble town and a safe journey home. Good night, my Lord."

With the words of farewell Elly bowed her head.

The Count waved his hand to dismiss her, suddenly rather uninterested.

Elly left the room with great care not to let the old door make too much noise as she closed it behind her. The hinges had a habit of creaking in creepy ways that hollowed through the halls at night like nightmares every time she forgot to be careful about them. The head maid had scolded her countless times for it already.

***

- Jake -

"Rumour has it the maid left your room rather late last night," Nathaniel said as he let himself down on the cushioned chair next to the window.

"We played chess," Jake answered rather absent-minded. He took the dagger out below the pillow of the bed and fastened it in place in the hidden pocket of his jacket. Dressing and undressing certainly would have been easier without weapons concealed in his clothes, but Jake wanted to be prepared at any day or nigh time.

"That's what you call it these days?" Nathaniel said.

"I do not take what's not mine to have." Jake couldn't help giving Nathaniel an angry glimpse.

"A man your age should take a woman to bed instead of playing board games with her," the demon said and poured himself a drink from the fine carafe the brown-haired maid servant had brought in before with trembling hands together with the breakfast.

"I have two healthy hands to please myself and I know fairly well that I will not go to hell for that."

"You are no fun," Nathaniel pouted. "All that frowning and fretting will bring you to an early grave."

Jake stopped in front of Nathaniel to regard him with a grim face. He ought to know by now the jests of the man faced demon, but lately he couldn't shake them off that well anymore.

"You know my fate as well as me," Jake said. His voice came out twisted. Bitter.

A sly smile crossed Nathaniel's face. He took another sip from his cup before he answered. "Now, do I?"

Jake threatened to falter under the demon's observant eyes and turned to grab himself a piece of sweets from the table. "Instead of playing games, tell me something useful," he said while chewing.

Nathaniel sighed in annoyance but sat up straight to talk business. "The Baron is a nasty bastard."

Jake raised an eyebrow. He hated that word. People always threw it around like an insult, like it truly meant someone was less of a person, when in fact no one could choose their heritage.

Jake remembered all too well how the folk at the castle had whispered about him like he was the devil's offspring and his mother like she was an evil witch. Strangely though, they never dared question his brother's birth. As if a man's infidelity was acceptable.

"No, he really is. He was the bastard son of the old Baron. After the rightful heir died due to sickness he was adopted into the main house," Nathaniel explained himself.

"And knowing that helps me how?" Jake grumbled.

Nathaniel grinned his most evil grin, his slightly pointed teeth put to display. He grabbed a piece of paper from his pocket and held it under Jake's nose. "It helps, if you have proof, that the sickness wasn't one at all."

Jake grabbed the paper and took a quick look at it, before putting it in his own pocket.

"Unless you want to have another go at trying to convince the old man to give you his riches with more honest methods," Nathaniel said.

Jake grimaced. He wasn't fond of the idea of extortion, but he had his goals, and he had tried it the decent way. Or half-decent at least.

The demon's eyes sparkled with mischief.

"You seduced the servant for it, didn't you?" Jake caught on quickly.

"Aren't you glad I don't have any morals?"

***