Tournament
* ~ * ~ *
Nadir shook his head - he could barely believe the scene unfolding around him. A cozy flat overlooking the Seine, a fire glowing cheerily in the grate, and Christine Daae embroidering in an armchair before it ...
Over the chessboard, he and Erik waged their comfortable war. With neat precision, his friend vanquished his bishop.
"I cannot understand it, Erik," Nadir cried, throwing up his hands. "You have the Devil's own luck!"
"True," smiled the former Phantom, with a glance over his shoulder at his beautiful bride; she returned his adoring gaze. "Now, Nadir, own it!"
"Very well," sighed the Persian; "Checkmate."
* ~ * ~ *
Nadir shook his head - he could barely believe the scene unfolding around him. A cozy flat overlooking the Seine, a fire glowing cheerily in the grate, and Christine Daae embroidering in an armchair before it ...
Over the chessboard, he and Erik waged their comfortable war. With neat precision, his friend vanquished his bishop.
"I cannot understand it, Erik," Nadir cried, throwing up his hands. "You have the Devil's own luck!"
"True," smiled the former Phantom, with a glance over his shoulder at his beautiful bride; she returned his adoring gaze. "Now, Nadir, own it!"
"Very well," sighed the Persian; "Checkmate."