Chapter Six

It had been three days since the "incident," as I had come to call it. Lindy had finally stopped asking me what was wrong, and Midge had taken to looking at me with a mix of pity and confusion. Susanna and I avoided each other at all costs; we were both afraid that I would do something to hurt her. Sir Foxwood and I…hadn't spoken since. Tonight was a chess night though, and I supposed I could not avoid him forever. As I wiped down my last table, I felt a prickling at the back of my neck, telling me that I was not alone in the dining room. Focusing intently on ignoring Sir Foxwood, I cleaned the same table three times before I noticed I was making a fool of myself. Heaving a world-weary sigh, I dropped my rag into the bucket and made my way to the door with my back a little too straight to seem relaxed. Like a bell, Sir Foxwood's voice rang through the dark dining room.

"I apologize."

With my back still turned, I gave a little smile. There's still hope for him yet. I allowed myself to relax and dropped the bucket, facing him. A single candle was lit at his table, the light from the flame dancing over his face.

"It's about time," I said, not too sharply.

"You're back then?" he chanced a smile.

"I've been here," my eyebrows knit together in confusion.

"I mean…the Oribelle Roberts I've come to lo…like. I've missed your exasperating, never-ceasing chatter. If you can believe it, the silence nearly drove me insane."

I laughed softly, walking towards the table. "How many times do I have to tell you, Sir Foxwood―"

"Lucien."

"What?" I stared rudely.

"I think we've broken every other formality. You're a friend, call me Lucien."

"Well then, how many times do I have to tell you, Lucien," I rolled my tongue around his name, liking the way it came from my mouth. "You're already mad."

"At least once more," he said softly.

A tension settled in the room, but much unlike the thick, uneasy one of before when I was still angry with him. This tension was lighter, and yet more dangerous. I had the feeling that I was dancing on the edge of a precipice, where one false move would send me spiraling downwards to no end. This was not the kind of tension thatseemed sodense it could be cut with a knife; this was a haze of tension so inconsistent and fluid that you had to slide through it. Sir― Lucien seemed to notice it as well, for he cleared his throat awkwardly, yet said nothing.

"This is a chess night, isn't it?" I asked stupidly, jumping at the sound of my own voice.

"It is…you still wish to play, do you not?"

"I do," I nodded.

"Well…let us begin," he said, offering me another grin. Damn my heart for flopping over at that smile.

As the game went on I became more and more confused. Thoughts were swirling madly in my mind. I found myself lingering on the moment three days ago when Lucien tried to make me tell him what Susanna had accused me of.He'd touched me. I'd been touched by men before, sure, grabbed roughly by the wrist, slapped on the hand, pushed, but I had never been touched with such concern. I was struck then, by how little the color of my skin must've meant to him. Lucien was really a man unlike any other I'd ever known.

As he studied the game board in quiet concentration, I secretly studied him. In the firelight, the chestnut hair that flopped boyishly over his forehead in gentle waves had a honey-brown glow to it, lending to him a vulnerability that was not there in ordinary circumstances. His eyes twinkled and glittered like the sapphire jewels in Christelle's tiara, but with so much more intensity. At once his forehead relaxed (his skin is so smooth) and he gave the pieces a half of a grin (his smile is so free) as he slid his bishop across the board, taking the knight that was protecting my king. I noticed how inviting his hands were; wide palms, long, unscarred fingers with clean, neat nails. My hands fidgeted in my lap, I wanted to feel his palm against mine.

"Check," he nearly sang at me.

I looked up at him, startled out of my thoughts. I blushed; I should have been paying attention to the board, not his damned attractiveness. Shaking my head as if it would refocus my thoughts, I stared at the game.

His king was backed into a corner, protected in front by a pawn, and his queen would never leave more than four spaces to the side and two spaces in front of the king, protecting him from threats as they got too close. If I moved my rook so that it was on the same row as his king, his queen would move diagonally to take it. If I moved it to the same column as his king, his other bishop would take it. Looking at the board with great focus, I noticed that my queen was not as trapped by his two pawns as I thought it was. A rush of excitement passed through me, though I hid it well. All I had to do was move my queen diagonally so that she was on the same row as his king and it was checkmate. It would take his queen two moves to do away with mine, and his king was trapped by his own pawns! I won! Smiling slyly at Lucien from under my lashes, I slid my queen diagonally to rest menacingly three spaces away from his king.

"Mate," I stuck my tongue out childishly.

"What?" he nearly yelped.

"Checkmate," I said simply, grinning from ear to ear. "Look at the board all you want to, it'll tell you the same."

He grumbled as he looked at his king, cornered by my queen.

"Make a move, I dare you," I giggled.

Lucien heaved a great, dramatic sigh. "No, no, a man can tell when he's been beaten."

"I won! I won!" I sang. "And you looked so smug when you said check!"

"Oh alright, enough," he snapped, but laughed good-naturedly.

"I knew I was getting good, but I never actually thought I'd win," I said thoughtfully. "You've been playing so much longer than me…you didn't let me win, did you?"

His expression told me all I needed to know; he looked as if I'd just thrown a brick at him and hit him dead in the face. "Heavens no!"

"Alright, I'm glad to know I won on my own," I bit back another smile.

"Belle, I'd never deceive you in such―"

"I shouldn't have assumed―"

"You are really good."

I blushed again. What's wrong with me? Am I turning into Christelle? "Thank you."

There was another awkward silence, and for some inexplicable reason I felt compelled to answer the question he'd asked me three days ago.

"Susanna accused me of― behaving in an― of― breaking the vow of…oh, sod this! She accused me of lying on my back for you."

I looked at the floor after blurting this bit of information; my honey skin was most definitely glowing red by now. Lucien seemed to be choking on air.

"She wha―"

"I don't know what made me say it…just now. I was going to keep it to myself, but I had to― I'm not like that, y' know?"

Still looking quite short of breath, Lucien nodded. His cheeks were as red as I supposed mine were.

"She told me to go back to whatever brothel I crawled out of. It's like Queen Griselda…she sacked me because she thought the King was paying attention to me. The King doesn't even know I'm alive. I'm a good lass, I am," I said in a slightly pained voice. I hated how weak I sounded.

"You are," Lucien stated simply. "You're a very hardworking, quick-witted young lady―"

"I aint no lady, now."

"I say you are, and you are," he looked at me sternly.

I laughed at his expression. "Alright, then."

"And you don't deserve for people to behave so unjustly towards you."

"Wherever did you fall from?" I asked, looking at him in wonderment.

"Pardon?"

"You have every reason to not be nice to me, and yet…and yet―"

"Au contraire, Belle; I have every reason to be extremely nice to you. You've brought good humor and a new sense of enjoyment to my life. I love The Eve, she has been all I've known for years, but you have filled a spot that I did not even know was empty."

We were dancing way too close to the edge of that precipice.

"Th-thank you," I stuttered like a fool. I gazed at the candle flame to avoid looking at Lucien; it had nearly melted all the way down. "I should probably be in bed right now; early day tomorrow and all…"

Lucien seemed to snap out of a trance-like state. "Yes, yes, I should probably head upstairs as well." He began to put away the pieces of the board.

"Here, let me help―"

"No, it's quite alright―"

But our hands had already brushed each other in my attempt to help him put away the game. I felt an electric shock jolt through me and I grabbed my hand with the other. Looking up, I saw that Lucien looked the same as I.

"My apologies," I muttered, blushing harder than ever. What a fool am I!

"No, no…" he trailed off.

I slowly made my way from the table, picked up the bucket I had dropped earlier and began to make my way downstairs. As my foot touched the first step, I turned over my shoulder to look at Lucien, who was trembling ever so slightly as he snapped the lid of box of game pieces closed.

"Goodnight, Lucien."

He jumped and faced the sound of my voice. "Dream well, Oribelle."

Once I had tucked myself into my bed and closed my eyes, I was shocked to find the first image I thought of to be Lucien's smile. What have I gotten myself into?