The loss hurt, to say the least. To say further, it absolutely stung. It had been years since the princess ever lost a challenge… And the fact that that Vampire just let her go, without any consequences!
Over and over the game replayed in her mind. In the mornings, the pieces danced around between the sun’s light and the room’s shadows. In the day, various scenarios and strategies were theorized and executed, only to be crushed by her vampiric opponent, sending Rosa into trembles and putting down another unfinished book. At night the memory haunted her dreams, including the possible penalties. She couldn’t even look anyone in the eye; all she could see in them now was a fraction of the respect they once had for her. She could hardly stomach most foods, and never went out again.
To make matters worse, the Queen, her mother, fell ill and died that week, from a sickness that Rosa didn’t research enough in time to make a cure. Never had her father, a smart and strong man that usually expressed little, cried so much.
As for Dari… Rosa didn’t even know anymore. He had since stopped knocking on her door by now, as did the servants. She predicted that he was helping to run the kingdom, both as a necessary and as a distraction from his own grief.
“Little help I am…” She muttered to herself, surrounded by books she could no longer read peacefully, sitting in the corner on the cold marble floor, and fingering the thick curtains that covered the windows and blocked out the afternoon's light. “If only I did not lose to that creature.” ‘She must have cursed me for losing. If I was to win, then everything could go back to normal and I would never be drawn to her again!’
Rosa stood up, curtains and books forgotten. Her stomach growled, but she ignored it. She changed out of her purple nightgown and donned a simple black and pink dress. Next she got her twin daggers off the mantle between her desk and bookshelves. The last item she collected was a leather bag containing several cloves of garlic.
~
Night had arrived by the time she entered the cave, but Rosa had no problems finding her way, as if the beings of the forest sensed her rage and moved out her path.
As expected, the vampire was there, wearing an expertly handmade green dress and shoes, the fabric taken from another poor victim. But that would end tonight.
“Uh, good evening, your highness.” Marria greeted awkwardly, not that Rosa cared. “It has been awhile. Pray tell, how are you fairing?”
“My Mother has died.” The words left her lips before she knew it.
“Oh dear.” Marria said with genuine sympathy. “That is so-“
“That does not matter.” Rosa interrupted, not wanting to hear any more pity from anyone, especially her – no, it. “I just want to play.”
“… Very well.” The vampire nodded and walked over to the game shelf, scanning the shelves as the pot bubbled and sizzled over the small fire.
“Chess.” Her command echoed through the cave. The vampire locked eyes with her and stared for what seemed like eternity.
“Are… You sure?”
“Yes. I am.”
“… Very well.” Marria took out the board and set it on the table. As Rosa set the pieces into place and formed strategies – both for the game and after – Marria went over to the pot and poured human stew into two wooden bowls with spoons. She placed them both on the table, for her and Rosa, as usual.
The two began their match. The vampire played defensively, despite being white, while Rosa puppeteered her dark pieces with renewed determination. The princess even began to enjoy herself again, at one point making Marria sacrifice her queen to protect the king. It cost both of her bishops, but Rosa didn’t care, because she could now foresee her victory in sight. All that existed was the game.
“Um…” Marria muttered, breaking Rosa out of her flow. “I’ve… noticed that your stomach has been growling for the entire game…” Rosa didn’t even notice that. “You have not been faring well.”
“You don’t say.” The princess couldn’t help but bark out a laugh, not lady-like at all.
“Here.” She pushes Rosa’s bowl closer towards her, eyes so kind and concerned – ‘Just like Mother’s’ – and lips in a small, encouraging smile that showed her dimples – ‘Like Dari whenever we talked’.
Rosa picked up the bowl of stew, the heated wood spreading warmth through her hands and arms that she hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever. She took the spoon and stirred the food a little, the wood as smooth and intricately carved as it looked. Scooping out a piece human flesh, she brought it to her mouth and chewed.
It tasted like seasoned pork.
ns 15.158.61.23da2
