21

Rafael

Isa stepped out of the bedroom after her shower, towel drying her hair as she walked my way with her legs revealed by the shorts she wore around the suite. The cheap cotton didn't suit her skin, and the knowledge that she would soon be bathed in a luxury so unfamiliar to her that she'd never be able to go back settled over me.

The scar seemed more stark against her skin now that I knew the reason for it. As her skin turned richer from the increased sunshine, the paler, raised skin never changed.

She froze in place, her attention catching on me sitting in one of the chairs on the terrace. The chess board sat on the table between the chairs, and she squinted her eyes as she stared at it. Finishing drying her hair, she turned back into the bedroom to hang the towel in the bathroom before coming out more cautiously the second time.

"Have you ever played chess,mi princesa?" I asked, waving a hand to indicate she should sit in the chair opposite me. She shook her head as she lowered herself into it gracefully, crossing her legs as she leaned an elbow on her knee and looked at the board.

"I don't think I'd ever even seen a chessboard in person before coming here," she said, studying the pieces. She picked up a white pawn, turning the smooth marble in her hand as she ran delicate fingers over it.

The piece belonged in her hand.

"Chess can teach us a lot about life," I told her, taking the pawn and setting it back into its place on the board. "Every piece can move in a particular way," I said. I guided her through all the individual pieces and the ways they could move while she listened with rapt fascination.

Isa often downplayed just how intelligent she was, hiding behind her books and charitable work at the Menominee community center. She seemed to struggle with the difference between herself and Odina, never allowing herself to truly excel. Hugo said he'd seen her diminish her mind frequently, sometimes going so far as to forget about an assignment so she wouldn't have a perfect grade. He'd watched her circle the correct answer on a test and then change it when she was finished.

But within her lurked a mind I suspected would rival the smartest men in my organization. If only she existed in a life that encouraged her to own it, rather than act like it was something shameful.

"This is the Queen," I said, holding out the piece for her to wrap her fingers around. She took it, tilting her head as she studied it and ran her thumb over the crown at the top. "She's the most powerful piece."

"Not the King?" she asked, righting her head as she met my eyes.

"The game is over when the King is dead. But without a Queen, it never truly begins," I said softly, watching as she pursed her lips thoughtfully. "She can perform the most moves on the board. The Queen protects her King, no matter the cost."

She reached out a hand and grabbed the King, running her other thumb over the cross like she had the crown on the Queen. "This is probably the only game in existence where men gave a feminine symbol all the power," she said with a huff of laughter.

I grinned back at her, nodding my head. "You're probably right."

She placed the pieces back on the board. "The King controls the board, but the Queen is what gives him that power," she said, her voice dropping as she accepted the fact that she understood the basic premise.

"Exactly," I said. "Your move."

She widened her eyes at me, pursing her lips and looking down at the board. She moved a pawn, watching as I moved my own. The first pawn I moved had a tiny fissure on the top, a crack I only noticed when my palm brushed against it. I was too preoccupied with watching her to look down at the board, with observing her eyes as they flitted around the pieces and studied the game. She thought everything through, observed all the pieces as she bit her lip in concentration.

One day, she'd be a force to be reckoned with. Both on and off the board.

But today was not that day.


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