En Passant

En Passant
A Story About Anthropomorphized Chess Pieces.

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Pointe woke up nice and early, as any royal servant would. The sun wouldn’t rise for another two hours or so. Pointe yawned, gazing around the darkened room she was in. She was sitting in the top of a bunk bed, and below her laid another Pawn, still resting peacefully. In fact, everyone in this room was a Pawn, a servant of Castle Black’s royal family. Trying her best to remain quiet, Pointe lowered herself down onto the floor of the bunk bed room, before dusting herself off, changing into some fresher clothes, and exiting the room.

Castle Black was notorious for being scarily quiet during early morning and nighttime hours, and as a servant of the Black Royal Family, Pointe could say with certainty that the rumors were accurate. Pointe’s every footstep echoed loudly and unevenly, to the point where Pointe would sometimes think she was being followed by two or maybe three more pieces. But she wasn’t. It was just her.

Pointe found the central staircase of the castle, a large, spiraling, stone creation, as imposing as it was impressive, and began to ascend it, her every step echoing loudly and dully washing away into silence.

Upon reaching the third floor of the castle, Pointe was met with a crossroads; three large wooden doors to the north, east and west. The castle had three towers: The North Tower, also called The Royal Tower, where the Black Royal Family resided, The East Tower, which was where the castle’s two Bishops resided, studying various topics Pawns like Pointe didn’t really concern themselves with, and The West Tower. Pointe didn’t actually know what was in The West Tower. In fact, Pointe was pretty sure no Pawn actually knew what was in there. It probably wasn’t important, however. After all, Pointe had never been called there, so why should she concern herself with its contents?

Pointe, trying desperately to keep the large wooden door’s rusty hinges from squeaking so loudly, entered into The Royal Tower. She was greeted with a hexagonal hallway, with the bottom of the stairs leading up to the next floor to her right, and the path towards the stairs to her left. A few Knights paced up and down the hallways. This pattern repeated itself all the way up to the top of The Royal Tower; a hexagonal hallway that requires one to go all the way around the hall before ascending to the next floor. This hallway surrounded the rooms for each member of the Black Royal Family, and the entrances to each Royal’s room were always halfway between the stairwell going up and the stairwell going down, or in the case of the bottom of The Royal Tower, the entrance.

Treading quietly, so as to not wake any of the Black Royal Family, who were surely still sleeping, Pointe wound her way through the first floor of The Royal Tower, then the second, third, fourth, and fifth floors, before finally arriving at the sixth floor, where Princess Black resided. Rather curiously, -well, at least to Pointe- Princess Black, the elder of the two heirs, had the room at the top of the tower. This was the smallest room. Prince Black, the younger heir, got the larger room on the floor below Princess Black. Pointe found this fascinating, although she didn’t really know why she found it fascinating. Pawns such as Pointe never really put much thought or attention into anything besides following their instructions and serving their masters, so they didn’t exactly have the introspective skills required to, or indeed, even the want to suss out details such as “Why is it that the elder heir resides in the smaller room?”

Having reached the fifth and sixth floors of The Royal Tower; what Pointe considered to be her station, Pointe began to pace around the hexagonal hallways and weave up and down between the two floors. Around the sixth time Pointe passed by the door to Princess Black’s room, she heard a faint call.

“Pointe…” The voice was tired and grumpy. Princess Black was calling for Pointe. Promptly, Pointe opened the velvety, double-sided door to Princess Black’s room and made her way to the Princess’ bed, against one of the walls of the room.

The Princess had dark circles under her eyes, and her whole face had an odd discoloration to it, as if the Princess had trouble breathing.

“Yes, my Princess,” Pointe began, curtsying. “Do you need something? Did I wake you by accident?” Princess Black groaned, and she slowly looked over at Pointe.

“Could you go and tell Mother to send for one of the Bishops?” The Princess asked, a little whine in her voice. “I feel I’ve taken ill. My head aches.”

Pointe gasped. “Oh my! You’ve taken ill, my Princess?”

“Agh!” Princess Black cringed. “Do not be so loud, I say! Just… go and fetch Mother, would you?”

“Yes, my Princess.” Pointe curtseyed again, and dashed out of the room. No longer caring to keep quiet, Pointe dashed her pitter-pattering dash down to the third floor of The Royal Tower. As she came upon the door to Queen Black’s private chambers, Pointe slammed face-first into one of her personal Knights, and fell down onto her bottom.

“What business have you with Queen Black, Pawn,” the Knight asked gruffly, seemingly ignoring Pointe’s slamming into him moments earlier and gripping tightly onto his spear. Pointe found a nervous lump growing in her throat as she rose to her feet and dusted herself off.

“I… uh— Princess Black sends me, sir,” Pointe stammered out. “She says she’s taken ill, and Princess Black wanted me to tell the Queen to get one of the Bishops, sir.”

The Knight scanned Pointe for an uncomfortably long time. Pointe noticed that her hands were trembling. She quickly clasped them together, and pressed them against the front of her skirt. This did not stop the trembling. The Knight turned to his fellow guard on the other side of the door, this one holding a halberd, silently conversing with each other. Finally, the other Knight nods his head.

“You may enter, Pawn,” the Knight states, grasping the door handle. Upon opening the door, the other Knight, the one with the halberd, entered Queen Black’s chambers, followed closely by Pointe. The door closed on Pointe’s heels, which did not do much to assuage the nervous feeling Pointe had in the pit of her stomach.

The Queen’s room was dark, the torches in the fasteners along the walls and the various candles and candelabras unlit. Along one of the walls of the room was a large bed, with curtains hanging along it’s top. The curtains were shut. This was the Queen’s bed. Despite the darkness in the room surrounding her and the Knight, Pointe could make out the Queen behind the curtains, still wearing her crown even as she slept.

The Knight who had entered along with Pointe approached the Queen, gently pulling aside the curtains. With the softest touch, he placed a hand on the Queen’s shoulder and lightly shook her. The Queen moaned, irritated, as she was roused.

“My Queen.” The Knight spoke softly and clearly. “A Pawn is here to see you. She says Princess Black sent her. Says the Princess has taken ill.”

After a short pause, the Queen spoke. “Light the candles.”

“Yes, my Queen,” said the Knight as he took out a piece of flint from a satchel on his hip. He scraped it against the pointy part of his halberd, and the flames of one of the candelabras danced into life.

“Bring it here,” Queen Black commanded. “Put it on the nightstand.” The Knight did so promptly. The Queen waved her hand over to the door as she yawned. “Thank you. Return to your post.”

Pointe kept her gaze trained on the Queen as the Knight left. The Queen sat up in her bed and stared sternly right at Pointe. After a few moments, Pointe realized she had forgotten something, and quickly gripped the edges of her skirt and curtseyed, keeping her head bowed and her knees bent.

After what felt to Pointe like an eternity, but what was actually around forty-five seconds, the Queen spoke, tersely. “Rise. I am told you were sent by my daughter, Pawn?” Irritation was clear in the Queen’s voice, and Pointe couldn’t tell why exactly that was. Was it because she was awoken so early? Was it because of Pointe’s presence? Pointe certainly hoped it wasn’t the latter, but it could easily be that. Perhaps even both reasons at once. Regardless, Pointe promptly rose out of her curtsey, clasping her hands in front of her skirt and standing up as straight as she could.

“Y-Yes, my Queen. Princess Black sends me.”

“Why?”

“Pr-Princess Black believes she’s f-fallen ill, my Queen. She sent me to request that you bring one of the Bishops to her.”

Queen Black sighed, and began to massage the bridge of her nose with her fingers. Pointe felt the lump in her throat swell in size.

“Oh, why can’t Belle ever be direct with the Pawns,” the Queen muttered, clearly exasperated. She rose from her bed, and began to stretch, yawning.

“Very well… fetch me my bathrobes.”

“E-Er... Your bathrobes, my Queen—”

“Yes, my bathrobes. I haven’t the patience to wait for the other Pawns to make their way here and assist in dressing me— Come now, chop chop!”

Pointe had the candelabra shoved into her hands, and she clumsily grasped it before dashing about the room and trying to find Queen Black’s bathrobes. The Queen continued on as Pointe dashed around, her tone softening.

“Plus, it’s my sick daughter we’re talking about here, Pawn. Not some important royal event. There’s no need for me to dress myself up in all my finery.” Pointe, having found the bathrobes, presented them to Queen Black.

“Thank you,” she stated, slipping on her bathrobes. “Come now, follow me.” The Queen, moving along in something like a graceful march, made for the door and swung it open. The two Knights outside stood at attention.

“You there.” The Queen gestured at the Knight with the halberd. “Go to the Eastern Tower and fetch Bishop Samuel. You’ll probably find him in the library or the greenhouse.” The Queen pointed at the other Knight, the one with the spear. “And you, accompany me.” The spear-wielding Knight nodded his head, and the halberd-wielding Knight promptly marched off, descending down the hallway.

With a quick pace, the Queen, the Knight, and Pointe made their way back up The Royal Tower, arriving at the sixth floor in around seven minutes.

“Stand guard out here,” the Queen instructed the Knight as she opened the door to Princess Black’s room. The Knight promptly stood at attention by the side of the door as Queen Black and Pointe went inside Princess Black’s room.

Another Pawn was inside the room, lighting candles by Princess Black’s bed. She curtseyed upon noticing Queen Black. Princess Black had sat up in her bed, resting against some pillows and sipping from a tea cup. Queen Black stood at the side of the bed, looking down at Princess Black. Pointe took her place behind the Queen, standing against the wall. The other Pawn joined Pointe there, standing side-by-side. Pointe recognized this Pawn. She had a rather distinctive swirl in her hair that reminded Pointe of a sweet roll.

“Merry morning, Mother,” Princess Black said, voice still rather tired. “Would you care for some tea?” Princess Black gestured at a tea set placed on her nightstand. There were two cups left unused. The Queen looked over at Pointe and the other Pawn, clearly attempting to suss out which one was Pointe and which one was the Pawn who had served the tea.

“What kind of tea is it,” the Queen asked, deciding to side-step the problem of which Pawn was which by not directing her question to either of the Pawns stood against the wall.

“It is an herbal tea, my Queen,” the swirly-haired Pawn responded. She had more confidence and composure in her voice than Pointe had. “Cinnamon, with some sugar. I’ve heard from a baker in E’three that it helps with sickness, m’liege.”

“I suppose I’ll have some. Pour me a cup.” The swirly-haired Pawn nodded, and went to pour a cup of tea. Pointe, without being asked, pulled a chair over to the Queen.

“Ah, thank you,” the Queen said, sitting down. Pointe, straining a little, pushed the chair closer to Princess Black’s bed. The swirly-haired Pawn presented Queen Black with the tea, and curtseyed upon it being taken from her. Both Pawns placed themselves back against the wall.

“So, you’re sick, are you?” The Queen asked, after taking a long sip of tea. There was a tinge of suspicion in her voice, as if Queen Black did not actually believe her child was ill.

“Yes, I believe I am,” the Princess responded, nodding. “I woke up at this hour with the most awful pain in my head.”

“Ah… Well, I suppose I can’t be mad at you for sending for me. Your face, Belle-deary… have you trouble breathing?”

“Yes… my nose is all clogged, and my throat hurts.”

“Oh… poor girl.” The Queen leaned forwards and planted a small kiss on Princess Black’s forehead, and held it. “Oh my,” the Queen said, pulling back. The suspicious tinge in her voice vanished. “You’re very warm. You might just have a fever.”

The door opened. The halberd-wielding Knight entered, followed by a Bishop, still dressed in his nightwear.

“I’ve brought Bishop Samuel, as you requested, my Queen,” the Knight said, crossing an arm over his chest. The Queen nodded her head in reply, beckoned Bishop Samuel closer, and dismissed the Knight, who left and closed the door behind him.

The two Pawns looked at each other, as if silently gossiping with one another. Bishop Samuel was a rather contentious figure among the lower-ranked staff of Castle Black, particularly due to his deportment around the Black Royal Family.

Bishop Samuel, a touch groggily, walked over to the Blacks.

“What’s the problem?” He asked.

Pointe and the other Pawn were shocked. Bishop Samuel didn’t even greet the Queen and Princess!

“Excuse me,” the swirly-haired Pawn began, anger clear in her voice. “I do believe you’ve—” The Queen raised her hand, and the swirly-haired Pawn quickly became quiet.

“You’ll have to excuse the Pawn, Bishop Samuel. I’m afraid they don’t share your appreciation for getting straight to the point.” The Queen gave the swirly-haired Pawn some side-eye, which made the Pawn blush and avert her gaze away from the Queen. With a low grunt, Bishop Samuel nodded his head.

“Anyways,” Queen Black continued. “I’m afraid my daughter might’ve fallen ill. A fever, it feels like.”

“Well, that’s what she gets for lollygagging around in the cold until the witching hours,” Bishop Samuel replied bluntly, shrugging his shoulders. The Princess’ face went flush and the Queen got a surprised look on her face.

“Excuse me, what?” The Queen looked at the Princess, who was now trying to hide herself under her covers. “Belle, just what were you doing out at that hour?”

The Princess made a whine of protest. “I was not lollygagging, Samuel,” mumbled Princess Black from under the covers, trying to hide her flushed, embarrassed face from Queen Black and the Pawns.

“Then what were you doing, deary?” The Queen tried to pull the covers off of Princess Black, but she was unsuccessful.

“I-I don’t want to say. It’s embarrassing…”

“I’ll say,” Samuel sighed, exasperated.

“Samuel!” The Princess whined loudly, pulling the covers off of herself to glare pitifully at the Bishop.

The Queen eyed both her daughter and Bishop Samuel suspiciously. “Samuel… were you with my dear Belle when she was outside so late?”

“Yes,” the Bishop began, as he produced some basic medical tools from somewhere within his pajamas. He popped a thermometer into Princess Black’s mouth. “Your daughter, it would seem, has recently taken up an interest in fencing. She insists on practicing late at night, and on the Knights’ outdoor training material.”

The Princess’ face got all flush and red. The Queen gasped and looked at her daughter incredulously. “Fencing? At night? Belle, deary, what were you thinking? You could pierce yourself!”

Princess Black covered herself in her blankets again, making some sort of embarrassed, quiet yelp, like a mouse’s squeak.

“Don’t bother asking why your daughter was engaging in such activities. I know not, and she refuses to tell me.” Bishop Samuel yanked the covers off of Princess Black, and plucked the thermometer from her mouth. He squinted at the instrument and scowled.

“Oh, my. Three hundred and eleven Kelvin? That’s worse than I thought. This is a really bad fever.”

Queen Black gasped. “Will my darling be okay?”

“Well… ah…” Bishop Samuel rooted around inside his nightwear, attempting to find something. “Well, in the long term, yes. She’ll be alright, but it’ll take around three days of headaches and she risks infecting the rest of us...”

“And in the short term,” the Queen asked, voice raising a little.

“Well, that would require some Helanis,” Bishop Samuel said, patting around his pajamas. “But I don’t appear to have any on—”

The Queen sighed in frustration. “Ugh… look, do not even trouble yourself with looking for any Helanis… just go get some more.”

“That would… require me to go to Defore. That’s where the nearest alchemy shop is.”

“What about the one in Efonne,” the Queen asked, arching an eyebrow at the Bishop.

“Allow me to clarify: Defore is where the nearest alchemy shop that, given the option, I would patronize is. I have very high standards when it comes to my ingredients, and I’ll have you know that Efonne’s store does not—”

Queen Black cut off Bishop Samuel with an aggravated groan. “Very well, very well!” Queen Black waved a hand over at Pointe and the swirly-haired Pawn, before slapping it against her cheek. “Take a Pawn with you and go.”

“Very well, Bonne—”

“And do not refer to me by that name. It is ‘Queen Black,’ understand? While I can appreciate your brevity, Bishop Samuel, I will not have you neglect to refer to me by my rightful title.”

“Understood.” Bishop Samuel turned to the two Pawns placed against the wall. They had watched this whole interaction silently, keeping neutral expressions on their faces. Bishop Samuel pointed at Pointe. “You there, the Pawn on the right. Your name?”

Pointe took a few seconds to register the question and mull it over in her head. Even after that, she wasn’t certain she had been asked what she thought she was asked. “M-My name, Bishop Samuel? You wanted my name?”

“Yes, yes, your name. What is it? You’re going to be accompanying me, it would be awkward to just call you ‘Pawn’ all the time.”

Pointe was confused. No piece who wasn’t a Pawn referred to her as anything other than “Pawn” or “you”, let alone want to call her anything aside from those two options. Well, aside from Princess and Prince Black, but that was only because Pointe was their unofficial personal Pawn, so of course they would ask for her name...

“Er… Ah… It’s— It’s ‘Pointe’, Bishop Samuel.” The name took a while to leave Pointe’s lips. She hardly used it out loud herself. This was such an odd experience for her.

“Good, good… come with me, Pointe. We’ve got to prepare.” Bishop Samuel turned on his heel and made for the door, followed quickly by a discombobulated Pointe. The Bishop was around twice as tall as Pointe, and she only came up to just above Bishop Samuel’s knees. Pointe had to jog just to keep pace.

The two worked their way down The Royal Tower, Bishop Samuel moving almost as if he were a ball rolling down a ramp, Pointe chasing after him like a puppy desperately trying to keep up with it’s owner. And once they had reached the bottom, they turned and entered The East Tower. Up and up the two climbed, until they had reached the very top, the sixth floor.

Bishop Samuel swung open the door to what seemed to be his personal room. It was small, and compact. This was because Bishop Samuel was only making use of half of the room. The far side of the room was coated in dust, while the side near the door was spotless. A few moments after Bishop Samuel had entered, Pointe staggered in, sweat falling off of her forehead as she panted and gasped for air.

The Bishop stared at the Pawn, a concerned look on his face. “Are.. you alright, Pointe?” Bishop Samuel walked over to Pointe, who had collapsed down onto the floor, lying down on her back, and knelt down beside her, placing two fingers along her neck.

“So… So many stairs… my legs hurt…”

“Was I moving too fast for you?”

“Wh-What…? No, n-no, it wasn’t you, Bishop, it was—” Pointe cut herself off with her own gasps, trying to reclaim her composure. It was honestly quite the embarrassing moment for Pointe, having someone above her rank kneel over her as she panted incessantly. What if somebody thought she had caused a scene?

After a few moments of Pointe gasping for breath, she finally began to breathe normally, no longer panting and gasping.

“Are you alright now, Pointe?”

“Yes… yes, sir,” Pointe said, standing up and dusting herself off. “I’m dreadfully sorry, sir… I should probably improve my stamina…”

“I can slow down if you like, Pointe. It’s not like it’ll kill me if I do.”

Pointe was stunned at this point. First, someone higher in status than her wanted to know her name, now someone higher in status than her was making concessions for her?

“I… I… uh…” Pointe couldn’t make any noises beyond stunned babbling. She nearly stumbled over. The Bishop steadied her, a confused scowl on his face.

“Are… are you sure you’re alright, Pointe? Are you feeling ill? Lightheaded?”

“I… I-I’m fine, Bishop Samuel, I’m fine… sorry…” Pointe squirmed her way out of the Bishop’s grip and steadied herself, before quickly trying to change the subject.

“Do you need me to help you get packed, Bishop Samuel?”

The Bishop looked at the Pawn strangely, before gesturing over to some cabinets. “Er, yes… there’s some bandages in one of the cabinets over there. Look for a roll of a beige, stretchy material.” Finally, something Pointe found familiarity in: An order. She walked over to the cabinets and began to root through them, while Bishop Samuel grabbed a backpack from a closet and began to place other objects and supplies into it.

Pointe found what she was looking for. A roll of a beige stretchy material, around as big as Pointe’s fist. Without even really thinking about it, Pointe plunked the roll into Bishop Samuel’s backpack, not noticing that he was putting supplies into it himself until after she had placed in the bandages. Pointe looked at Samuel with an odd, concerned expression.

“I, uh… could’ve gotten those for you, Bishop Samuel. It’s no trouble, re-really…”

Bishop Samuel seemed to be catching onto something about Pointe, and he gave a low sigh before responding. “In the interest of speeding things along, I decided to ready supplies as well. Now, then. Let’s be off, shall we? I would like to reach the river in Sifore before midday.”

“Y-Yes, let’s,” Pointe responded, slinging the backpack onto her back. It was heavy, not to mention as big as her torso. Regardless, Pointe kept herself stood up straight, and waited for Bishop Samuel to start off. Samuel turned to the door and started down The East Tower, moving at a far slower gait than before. Pointe trailed behind him, feeling a little calmer than a few moments ago.

After around ten minutes, the pair had reached the grand entryway of Castle Black. The rest of the Pawns were all up and about by this point, bustling around, cleaning and dusting. But, it was still early, and everyone aside from Princess and Queen Black, the Pawns, Bishop Samuel, and the Knights were all sleeping. Thus, the Pawns who had opened the door for Bishop Samuel and Pointe did so quietly, wincing at every squeak the aging door made, fearing that somehow it’s noise would reach into the sleeping quarters of every Piece in the castle. After giving a small nod and a “thank you” to the Pawns that had opened the door for him, Bishop Samuel walked out of Castle Black, with Pointe trailing behind him.

Bishop Samuel held out a sundial and squinted at the shadow cast upon it by the sun. It was about ten or fifteen minutes before noon. The Bishop and the Pawn had crossed the Siforean river, and were now just on the edge of the Defore province. As much as Samuel would’ve liked to keep going, he had heard Pointe’s stomach growl no less than three times by now. It was time, he decided, to stop for lunch.

“Pointe?” Samuel called, turning around on his heel. Pointe walked right into him. “Ah, there you are.”

“Er— Sorry, Bishop Samuel, I wasn’t w-watching where I was going,” Pointe murmured, dusting off the Bishop with a rag she had apparently stuffed in her pocket sometime before they left Castle Black.

“That’s alright. How about we stop and rest, hmm? Maybe eat some lunch?”

“That’s… that’s not for me to decide, Bishop Samuel,” the pawn said, clearly tired from all the walking. Samuel sighed. Pointe’s insistence on being submissive to him was starting to irritate. However, Samuel supposed, it’s not like he could blame her for being so uncomfortable. Pawns were at the lowest point on the social and political hierarchy. All they really ever did was serve. Regardless, it still irritated Samuel.

“Very well, then… Pointe, let’s stop for lunch,” Samuel sighed. “Just put the backpack on the ground somewhere. There should be a blanket inside. Spread it out under that tree over there.” Pointe dashed over to the tree in question, a large one with thick leaves, and placed down the backpack, before pulling the blanket out and spreading it. She was finished very quickly.

“I’m finished, Bishop Samuel. Would you like me to prepare your lunch?”

“That won’t be necessary, Pointe. Just sit. Eat your own lunch, why don’t you?”

Pointe’s face became flushed, and her gaze flitted nervously off to the side. Bishop Samuel arched an eyebrow.

“You did pack a lunch for yourself, didn’t you, Pointe?”

“Uh… er… n-no. I d-didn’t, Bishop Samuel.”

Samuel moaned and slapped a hand against his forehead. “Why, Pointe?”

“Y-You didn’t tell me to, B-Bishop Sa-Samuel— I… I...” Pointe’s voice was starting to quiver. Her face went flush and her eyes looked panicked.

The Bishop was stunned. Such was Pointe’s need to be given instructions that she wouldn’t pack food for herself if not told to do so? Preposterous, truly… so preposterous, in fact, that the anger that had built up within Samuel just… vanished. It was knocked right out of him with the daintiest touch.

Samuel sighed. “Oh, this isn’t worth getting angry over… I’ll just give you my rice.”

“Th-That— Th-That won’t be ne-necessary, Bi-Bishop, I— I’d hate to impose—”

“It’s fine, Pointe. Calm down. You need to eat, don’t you? Now here,” Samuel handed Pointe a covered dish and a fork. It was warm. “Eat. You need the energy.”

Although a bit panicked, Pointe began to eat, calming down over the course of lunch. Samuel ruminated over his thoughts on Pointe throughout lunch. It seemed incomprehensible to him. Waking up each day, earlier than anyone else, to serve whoever’s above you, then going to sleep later than anyone else just to repeat the cycle every day.

At some point, a noise became apparent to Samuel, around when he and Pointe were preparing to resume their trip, having finished lunch. It was a trotting sound, coming from up the road to Defore. He turned to look at it, which made Pointe curious. What, or whom, could be coming down the road?

Pointe caught sight of the silhouettes of around three figures rising above the horizon. One was riding a horse, one trailed besides the horse, looking to Pointe like a more lightly armored Knight, and one trailed behind the first two, seeming short enough to be a Pawn.

Samuel, however, seemed to be pretty concerned with what he saw. “Pointe,” he spoke, hushed and concerned. “Get everything packed, then get behind me. Quickly, now.” Pointe nodded her head, and dashed over to the backpack. Hurriedly, she folded up the blanket she and Bishop Samuel were eating on and placed it inside, double-checked that everything was packed, and ran to Bishop Samuel’s side, backpack equipped.

“Good. Now, follow me. Just… try to stay quiet, okay? Let me do the talking.” Samuel began to walk down the road, towards the figures, who were now closer than Pointe thought. Pointe walked after him, confused and a little scared.

“Er… Bishop Samuel, what’s happening?”

“No time to explain,” Samuel muttered. “I’m sorry, I’ll explain later.”

Thus, the Bishop and the Pawn walked closer to the figures. Pointe eventually noticed that the figures were White Pieces, subjects of the White Royal Family. Pointe immediately felt a lump grow in her throat. Her hands went all clammy and dry. Why were White Pieces here? They’re pretty far from their homeland...

Eventually, the two groups met. The White Piece on the horse halted their mount and turned towards Bishop Samuel. “Ho, Bishop,” they spoke. Bishop Samuel, as if expecting this, halted and turned to face the White Pieces. Pointe stopped as well, visibly nervous. She got a better look at the White Pieces, now that they were up close. The Piece Pointe believed to be a Pawn was, in fact, a Pawn. The lightly-armored Knight was, on closer inspection, a Rook. Rooks were quite possibly the only Piece that Pointe found more intimidating and frightening than Knights. They were often siege soldiers, wild, rowdy, and fans of brutal weaponry, like axes and maces and flails. This particular Rook had a war-axe attached to their hip.

The Piece on the horse caught Pointe’s attention in particular. He bore a remarkable resemblance to Prince Black. In fact, the only visual difference Pointe could find was in the hair, the height, and the clothes. This sight made Pointe gulp. She and Bishop Samuel were in the presence of Prince White, of the White Royal Family. No wonder Bishop Samuel was acting so cautious. While the Black and White Royal Families weren't at war with each other, tensions were very palpable.

"My apologies for interrupting your travels, dear Bishop," Prince White continued, voice calm and confident. "But I was wondering if you'd be so kind as to give me directions to Ayone? I'm not as familiar with this…" Prince White paused for a moment, making a face as though he were unsure of something. "This neck of the woods, as I'd like to be." Prince White turned and looked down from his horse at his accompanying Pawn. "Pawn," the Prince whispered. "I used that phrase correctly, yes?"

"You did, my Prince," the White Pawn responded, curtseying. Prince White turned back to the Bishop, sighing in relief.

"Yes," Bishop Samuel responded, turning half-way and pointing towards the Siforian river. "After crossing the upcoming river, take a left after you leave the next town. Then, just continue on. You should find Ayone with no problems."

It was at this point only that Bishop Samuel spoke, something that rather surprised Pointe. The Bishop did not seem to be one for holding his tongue, yet here he was, making absolutely sure it was his "turn" to speak before doing so. This whole experience was making Pointe squirm uncomfortably in her skin. The White Pawn noticed her distress, and beckoned Pointe over. Pointe complied, taking cautious, jittery steps over to the Pawn.

"Greetings, Black Pawn," the Pawn said, crossing one arm over her chest and bowing. Pointe did the same. "You seem rather nervous. Why is that?"

"I've… never so much as seen White Pieces in person before," Pointe confessed. "And now I'm in the presence of Prince White himself. I've worked myself into a lather, I'm afraid…"

"Oh, don't worry. In fact, were I in your position, I'd be incredibly honored to have my first experience with White Pieces be with the honorable Prince White. He has such a respectful aura about him, doesn't he?"

Pointe gave the White Pawn an odd stare. That… wasn't exactly comforting, though it was clear the Pawn intended it to be so. "Yes, he certainly does…"

The White Pawn picked up on Pointe's stare. "Oh, my, did I come off wrong? My apologies." The White Pawn curtseyed. "I intended well, I assure you."

Pointe returned the curtsey. "It's quite alright. Sometimes we don't exactly say what we mean, yes?"

"Yes, quite. But curiosity compels me. Why is your Bishop travelling, hmm? And with only one Pawn, no less?"

"Er…" Pointe stammered. She wasn't sure if she was supposed to say. She stole a glance at Bishop Samuel and Prince White. They were discussing something, but Pointe couldn't exactly make out what. "I don't know if I'm allowed to tell you that," Pointe admitted. "Perhaps if your Prince were to ask…"

As if on cue, Prince White spoke much louder than he was previously. "So, I must wonder… why are you travelling to Defore?" The two Pawns looked over at the Prince.

"Princess Black has caught a fever. I'm going to Defore to buy some Helanis to assist in her recovery."

Prince White suddenly got a surprised look in his eyes. "What? She's taken ill?" Prince White sounded more than passingly concerned.

"Yes, I'm afraid she has. Took a chill while practicing her fencing in the middle of the night."

"Oh man, I told her to wear heavier clothes," Prince White murmured to himself. Bishop Samuel raised an eyebrow.

"What was that," Samuel asked, dropping his formal tone and crossing his arms.

"Wh-What?"

"I said 'what was that.' Answer me, young man." A stern, interrogative growl was building in Bishop Samuel's voice. At this, the two Pawns, particularly the White Pawn, reacted with surprise, and Prince White's accompanying Rook grabbed their war-axe and threatened Samuel with it, growling.

"Know your place, Bishop," snarled the Rook. "Did you forget who you're speaking—"

"Hold your tongue, Rook," Samuel interrupted, bearing down on the Rook, who flinched at the interruption. "This is a matter relating to my Royal Family. I will not let you and your Prince depart without a satisfactory answer."

Prince White sputtered and stammered, clearly uncomfortable with being put on the spot so suddenly.

"Well, young man? What say you?" Bishop Samuel pressed. At this point, the Rook looked just about ready to lop Samuel's head off, readying their axe.

"Rook, stay your weapon," Prince White ordered, clearly exasperated. Promptly, the Rook complied. The Prince sighed as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. He was collecting his thoughts.

"Around two weeks ago," the Prince began, nervously scratching at the back of his head. "I met Belle— Pardon me, Princess Black, at the lake up by D'Five, while I was practicing my fencing with my Rook. She took an interest in it, and I agreed to train her. When she told me that she was practicing back at Castle Black, I told her to wear heavier clothing, as the nights were getting colder. I see she didn't heed my advice."

“Ah. So you’re the reason she’s taken to fencing so suddenly.” Bishop Samuel’s glare softened, although Prince White still held a nervous expression on his face. “I suppose that also explains why she's been so hesitant to tell anyone.”

Pointe got a confused expression on her face. “Wait,” she mumbled. “What does Prince White have to do with Princess Black keeping her reasons secret?” Pointe considered the idea that the reason might be the tensions between the two royal families… but wouldn’t that reduce tensions? This was a conundrum, most assuredly.

“I’m afraid I don’t know myself,” the White Pawn replied. “I can’t fathom a reason.”

As the Pawns tried to suss out this conundrum in their heads, Bishop Samuel and Prince White had finished with their conversation-turned-interrogation. “Pawn, to me, please,” Prince White called. Promptly, the White Pawn dashed over to her master’s side, giving a wave goodbye to Pointe. Pointe returned the wave, and with no further words, Prince White and his two accompanying White Pieces started off down the road.

Bishop Samuel sighed in relief. “That… turned out much better than I imagined it going,” he noted aloud. Samuel beckoned for Pointe, who, much as the White Pawn had just done, promptly dashed to his side. “Come along, Pointe. We’re only about a kilometer or two away from Defore.”

Bishop Samuel and Pointe were almost back at Castle Black. Bishop Samuel had gotten all the supplies he needed, and even though it was obvious to him that Pointe was about to collapse from exhaustion due to all the walking, the return trip had passed uneventfully. However, there seemed to be something happening at the Castle itself… the drawbridge was down.

“Hmm… Pointe,” Bishop Samuel began as the two Pieces walked towards the drawbridge. “Do you know if there were supposed to be any events today? The drawbridge is already down.”

“Um…” Pointe racked her brain. Pointe had never been given exact information on the Black Royal Family’s “social calendar,” the various festivals and events and gatherings the Black Royal Family attended, but she had cobbled together something resembling it in her head. “I don’t think so, Bishop Samuel. Maybe somebody forgot to put it back down?”

“That’s possible, I suppose. Come on, let’s get inside and see if we can figure out what’s going on.”

“I thought you were supposed to help heal Princess Black?”

“Yes, that as well. Come along, Pointe.”

As Bishop Samuel and Pointe entered the castle, they found quite a commotion going on in the main entryway and hall. The castle Pawns were seemingly cleaning the whole castle all over again, weaving between Rooks and Knights who were being ordered to various positions by a very confused Bishop, who was relaying instructions from none other than King and Queen Black themselves. Samuel and Pointe, after exchanging confused glances, waded through the crowd of Pieces and arrived before the King and Queen, Pointe curtseying and Samuel… getting straight to the point, as was his usual.

“What’s going on,” Samuel asked, gesturing to the chaos going on behind him. The King and Queen both sighed, Queen Black massaging the bridge of her nose.

“It would seem Prince White has decided to pay us an unexpected visit, Bishop Samuel,” King Black explained, voice gravelly and low. “Said he had heard Belle took ill. Now we’re preparing the entire castle just in case the rest of the White Royal Family comes looking for him.”

Samuel nodded, while Pointe just sort of started to panic. She was almost about to start assisting the rest of the Pawns when Queen Black grabbed her by the backpack, prompting Pointe to promptly turn to face her Queen.

“You, you’re the Pawn who accompanied Bishop Samuel, correct?”

“Yes, my Queen.”

“Come with me. Bishop Samuel, you as well. I’d like to deal with my daughter’s fever before any guests show up.”

And with that, Pointe, Bishop Samuel, and Queen Black went to the sixth floor of The Royal Tower. To Pointe’s surprise, Prince White’s Rook, the one who had threatened Samuel with an axe earlier, was standing in front of Princess Black’s door, alongside a Black Rook. Both bowed at the sight of Queen Black, but Pointe was still nervous at the sight of a White Piece in the castle, especially one with a weapon.

Queen Black, Samuel and Pointe entered Princess Black’s room, Pointe rather shocked to find Prince White sitting on Princess Black’s bed, conversing with her. Prince White rose and bowed, crossing his right arm over his chest, when Queen Black entered the room. Pointe looked around the room, wondering if— Oh, she was here! Prince White’s Pawn was standing by Princess Black’s nightstand. Pointe, trying to contain her excitement, walked up to the White Pawn, smiling and waving. The White Pawn waved in return, giving a small grin.

“Good afternoon, Mother, Bishop Samuel,” Princess Black said as the group entered the room. “I suppose you’ve already gathered that Geoffrey's here?”

“Belle,” Prince White whined quietly, face going a little flush, his ivory-white face turning glossy black at the cheeks. “I thought I asked you not to use my first name, i-it’s embarrassing…”

Princess Black turned to face Prince White, gripping his hand and squeezing it, whispering something in his ear. Pointe didn’t hear what it was, but it seemed to calm down Prince White. Queen Black cleared her throat.

"Yes, yes I have. It was rather easy to figure out, on account of my entire staff being thrown into pandemonium the instant you arrived at the drawbridge, Prince White. At least send a messenger beforehand next time, alright?"

“Yes, Queen Black, I’ll make sure.” Prince White nodded his head affirmatively.

Queen Black sat down on a large chair, which Pointe helpfully pushed close to Princess Black’s bed. “Let’s get down to brass tacks, then. Bishop Samuel? You managed to get the Helanis from Defore, correct?”

“I did. Pointe?”

Pointe slung the backpack off of her back, and it felt as though two-hundred pounds had been lifted from her back. Bishop Samuel grabbed the Helanis from the backpack. Using a mortar and pestle he apparently had on him, Samuel pounded the Helanis into a thick liquid before loading it into a syringe. He approached Princess Black, who immediately began to panic at the sight of the needle.

“Now, Belle, this might sting a little.” Bishop Samuel was seemingly ignoring Princess Black’s squirming and whimpering. “But it’ll be over quickly. Just… I don’t know, breathe into Prince White’s shoulder or something on my count of three.”

“Belle, calm down,” Queen Black chastised, prompting Bishop Samuel to pause, as if only now registering that Princess Black was throwing a fit in bed. “If you’re brave enough to go fencing in the middle of the night for some unfathomable reason, surely you can handle a tiny needle prick, correct?”

During this whole scene, Pointe and the White Pawn gossipped and chatted with each other, admittedly finding Princess Black’s panicking to be the teeniest bit funny. Not that either would ever admit that, especially in front of their superiors.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Pointe began, relieved to not have to carry such a heavy backpack anymore. “Your Prince was heading to Ayonne, wasn’t he?”

“Well, that was the plan, but upon hearing that your Princess was ill, he decided to stop here and check on her.” The White Pawn leaned close to Pointe, lowering their voice to a whisper. “They’re definitely smitten with each other. Look at them!”

Pointe looked towards Princess Black’s bed, to find that Princess Black was shuddering in her bed, Prince White holding and cuddling her in his arms as Bishop Samuel gave Princess Black a shot of Helanis.

“Well, they do look very… is ‘close’ the word I’m looking for?”

“Most likely.”

“Ah, thank you. But it occurs to me that I’ve not yet asked your name.”

“Oh? Well, I doubt that I’ll ever see you again after we leave here, but… It’s Pirouette. Your name?”

“Pointe.”

“Well, it’s certainly a pleasure to meet you, Pointe. And it’s been amazing to visit Castle Black. I’m willing to assume that I’m more well-traveled than you are, but even then, I’ve never so much as seen a place like this outside of Castle White.”

Both Pawns curtseyed to each other. It would seem that Bishop Samuel was done giving Princess Black her shots.

“Well, that’s that,” Bishop Samuel said, placing the needle into whatever pocket he had it in. “You should start feeling better soon. Anyways, I should be getting back to my studies. Am I done here?”

“Done here, yes,” Queen Black began. “But if you could help the other Bishop downstairs, that’d be nice.”

Bishop Samuel groaned and rolled his eyes, something that shocked both Pawns. Well, Pointe was shocked less than Pirouette, having gotten used to Samuel’s… “eccentricities,” for lack of a better word, but it was still almost blasphemous in the Pawns’ eyes to behave so flippantly in front of a Queen.

“Very well, I’ll get on that,” Bishop Samuel moaned before swiftly exiting the room.

There was a silence in the room for a few moments. “He doesn’t like doing more than he feels he has to, I take it,” Prince White asked, looking over at Queen Black, who chuckled a little at the question.

“Well, that’s not really it. Samuel’s just a little… oh, what’s the word I’m looking for…”

“Disrespectful, that’s what he—” Pirouette started, before quickly slapping her hands over her mouth when she realized that she was speaking loud enough for Prince White and Queen and Princess Black to hear her. Pirouette’s face went hot, as did Pointe’s, who felt a familiar tight lump swelling up in her throat. Prince White awkwardly tugged at his collar.

“I… F-Forgive me, I… I...”

Surprisingly for the two Pawns, Queen Black began to laugh. “Oh, I get where you’re coming from, Pawn, but it’s just the way Samuel is.” She spoke in a jovial tone, as if she were entertaining guests. Well, Prince White was present, so presumably, she was. “Honestly, he’s like my husband back when he was courting me. He likes all his tasks laid out in advance.”

Pirouette, Prince White, and Pointe exhaled in relief. Princess Black began to snicker, with Queen Black joining in soon after. It seemed that the two royals were going to start sharing more stories, but before they could, the door swung open.

“Er, mother?”

It was Prince Black. Pointe and Pirouette did their courtesies, Prince Black waving in turn as he walked into the room, trotting up to his mother. Pointe looked back over at Prince White. With the two royals in the same room, the resemblance between them was clear as day. Prince Black looked like a young version of Prince White, right down to the shape of the eyes. In fact, the only visible differences were the hair and clothing. Well, the only visible differences aside from Prince Black being a Black Piece and Prince White being a White Piece.

“Yes, sweetness? What’s going on,” Queen Black asked, picking Prince Black up and placing him on her knee.

“Remember my friend Sadie? She and her mom and dad are here. She was wondering if we could play in the garden.”

Queen Black got a surprised look on her face. “Th-They’re here already—” Queen Black cleared her throat. “I mean, sure, sweety. You and Sadie can go and play. Stay in the garden, okay? And don’t mess up the plants.” Prince Black happily hopped down from his mother’s lap, and scampered out the door. Queen Black stood up and turned to Princess Black and Prince White. “Belle, Prince White—”

“Please, call me George. It feels rather odd to be so formal when I’m close friends with your daughter, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yes, yes… Belle, George, come along. Let’s go greet the new guests.” Queen Black turned to Pointe. “Pawn, would you please go and watch your Prince? Make sure he and his friend don’t get up to any mischief.”

“Yes, my Queen.” Pointe curtseyed, before making her way out of Princess Black’s room along with Pirouette, tailing behind the royalty. Pointe separated from the group after they left The Royal Tower, Pointe heading for the central garden and the rest of the group heading to the main hall.

Pointe exited into the central garden, looking around for Prince Black and his friend. She found them sitting on a swing together, swaying back and forth, back and forth. Pointe took her place behind the two, watching them go back and forth.

After a few moments, Prince Black noticed Pointe, and hopped off the swing to go and greet her. His friend followed behind him, and Pointe noticed that, much like how Prince Black looked like a younger version of Prince White, Prince Black's friend looked like a younger version of Princess Black.

"Hi, Pointe." Prince Black hugged Pointe, wrapping his arms around her, before gesturing to his friend. "This is Sadie, my friend." Sadie gave a small wave to Pointe, who curtseyed in return.

"Greetings, Miss Sadie. A pleasure to meet you."

"A pleasure to meet you as well, Pawn," Miss Sadie replied, giving a small curtsey.

"Oh, you flatter me, Miss Sadie," Pointe laughed. "I'm just a royal servant, there's no need for such formalities."

"Aren't you in a higher position than the other servants, though? Barry says you're his and Princess Black's personal Pawn."

"W-Well, not officially." Pointe began to blush, scratching at the back of her head. "I just happen to serve my Prince and Princess more than the other Pawns. It's not like I was hired or instructed to be their personal caretakers."

"Ah. You know, I'm actually a princess myself. My big brother is a prince! He has his own personal Pawn."

"Really," Pointe asked, trying her best to sound surprised. "I never would've guessed! Do you live in a castle?"

"Yeah! It's a really big one with three towers and a moat. There's lots of Pawns and Knights and I even have my own personal Pawn, like my big brother. She hasn't been around for a little while though. Daddy said she had a really bad stomachache and that she had to go home and rest until she got better."

"Oh, my, really? She must miss you a lot, Miss Sadie. Or, um… should I call you 'Princess Sadie?'"

"Well… most of the servants call me 'Princess White.' But I like 'Princess Sadie' better. And speaking of princesses… could you carry me?"

Pointe nearly did a double take. "Um… could you please repeat that, Princess Sadie? I didn't quite hear you."

"Carry me," Princess Sadie repeated, hopping up and down excitedly. "You know, like how knights carry princesses in my story books! I want to be 'princess-carried!'"

"Uh… o-okay, I could do—" Without any warning, Princess Sadie jumped into Pointe, making her scramble to catch Princess Sadie's legs and back. Princess Sadie wrapped her arms around Pointe's shoulders and back. Princess Sadie and Prince Black giggled excitedly, both staring up at Pointe's surprised face with puppy-dog grins.

"Yay! Princess-carry, princess-carry," Princess Sadie cheered, swaying her legs up and down and up and down. The two young royals giggled. Pointe, after taking a moment to steady herself, began to laugh as well.