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In the aft tunnel through the Verdict Ring, Carolle and Lord Bernard didn’t rush to remedy their tardiness for Lady Leupp’s fête. Their dawdling steps echoed amid the friezes detailing the Tower of Trône d’Argent’s history. Lord Bernard tucked his slender leather case under his arm as he delayed them further to relay the story behind each relief. Impressively knowledgeable and so pleased to share, the high lord piqued Carolle’s interest. But her true prize awaited at the end of the tunnel.
Carolle paused. Wintergreen trees and snow coated the peaks above mirror-still Lake Sabine, encircled in trees enchanted by autumn’s brilliant spell. On a shorter hill opposite the lake, the Tower of Trône d’Argent took her a moment to recognize, for it wasn’t a tower at all.
“Tower by function,” Lord Bernard explained when she inquired about the stately, columned palace. Colonnades arced out on either side of the Tower, supporting a line of statues over the manicured trees and sprawling lawns. “The magi ascend as they progress through the curriculum to receive the highest honor, their mantle. Not a clever metaphor, but I suppose children need to understand it.”
Unable to keep her eyes on the stairs, Carolle nearly stumbled a few times while descending to the valley where Lady Leupp’s pastel tents offended in a garish line along the gold-and-red autumn foliage. Lord Bernard offered his arm.
Carolle traipsed at his side into the sweet scent of cooking fires and onto a knoll where Lady Leupp’s guests bowled downhill. Farther down the lawn, Gaines aimed to seduce everyone in his green ensemble’s well-fitted jerkin. He spared Carolle a secret smirk before devoting his charm to consoling Lady Leupp, whose throw had missed all nine pins.
Lord Bernard exchanged a few pleasantries with the nobles on the knoll and explained their tardiness. “Forgot the pieces,” he said, lifting his dusty leather case for them to see. Then, without introduction, he carried on walking before Carolle had even withdrawn her hand from his arm.
Instead of invading the jovial attendants near Lady Leupp, Lord Bernard nonchalantly took the brick path encircling the lake. After some silver-mantled mages passed them by, Carolle whispered, “Won’t someone find it rude, us sneaking off?”
“Have you not heard? My reputation carries a certain expectation. If it rubs off on you, please accept my apologies.” The High House noble winked at her. “Would I be wrong in suspecting your concern for offending Ludmilla Leupp is as shallow as my own?”
Carolle rewarded him with a tight, mischievous smile.
They abandoned the trail and rustled and crunched fallen leaves on their way to an amber-and-crimson copse near the lakeside. Under a dark purple plum tree, an old scroll-worked table and benches occupied a nook open to the shore. As Lord Bernard brushed leaves from one of the benches, he said, “Insidious woman. Ludmilla seeks a husband, above all. I do not fault her determination in ascending the Rings but question her judgment when pursuing old fools like me. I could be her father, if not her grand. Transparent desperation—her sheer precipitous nature—speaks ill of her diplomatic agility. As a lord or lady achieves higher ranking, thus, too, does their political responsibility grow.” He flicked the last leaf off and gestured for Carolle to have a seat.
“Ta,” Carolle said. She sat, wondering what the high lord must think of her attention. Friendship, then. She breathed a little easier, relieved to be able to distance herself further from her mam’s occupation, and absorbed the view of the Tower across the lake.
A swipe of Rodinger’s hand across the leaves on the table revealed a checkered game board. He set his leather case next to it.
“Are we going to have our own game, then?” Carolle asked.
“Yes.” With that familiar and previously misinterpreted twinkle in his eye, he unclasped his case and began arranging brass and pewter figurines on the board. “You’ll learn more from this than the insincerities they volley at the fête.” He gave her fan a sidelong glance. “And you won’t be needing that.”
As he arranged the last few pieces, he said, “I find conversation flows easier when a game distracts the mind.”
Recognizing the horse, Carolle tapped its metal ears with the pad of her finger and asked, “Chess? I’m afraid I never learnt to play.”
“Excellent! No bad habits to break, then.” He set the empty case next to him on his bench. “You’ll recognize chess’s similarities to your performances. Each piece has a specified movement. Combine the movements strategically to execute the show with a favorable outcome.”
Doubtful, Carolle smiled a preemptive apology.
“I frame it this way,” Lord Bernard said, “so you understand the importance of the whole match and refrain from acting on willy-nilly reactions to what appears correct in the moment.”
By naming the pieces after characters in Elysant on the Glass, Carolle quickly picked up the movement patterns. The stratagems Lord Bernard issued challenged her relentlessly. As they played, she asked him about life on Verdict Hill, which required extra prodding to get more than grunts of apathy for social events. The one thing she knew for certain, Lord Bernard selected his friends as strategically as he played chess—and just as often.
All the while, Elysant failed to protect Gambion, her king, three times, but Carolle set her mind to slaying Triumph.
While Lord Bernard thought over his next move, Carolle enjoyed the aura of autumn and the shiny mantles passing under the colorful leaves on the path across Lake Sabine, above and below in the reflection. At least one mantle from each of the four Towers passed within a span of minutes. “Will they ever open new Towers?” she asked. “I know I’m repeating myself, but Patevia could use one. It’d be nice not to ship our magi out to Trône d’Argent or Aontus, mind.”
“Yes,” Lord Bernard answered, to her surprise. “Well, if all goes to plan. Naturally, that hinges on a peaceful unity floating just outside of our grasp.” His thick fingers slid the bronze queen, Mathanas, to a square that trapped Gambion and prevented rescue from Elysant. “Checkmate.” He opened his leather case and began clearing the board.
“We can’t stop now,” Carolle said. “I just learnt how to properly use the canaries.”
“Pawns.” He chuckled. “If you prefer it, we could continue later. As time allows.”
“I’d enjoy that,” Carolle said, relinquishing the pieces she’d intended to hold captive until securing another engagement with him.
Lord Bernard closed the case and rose. “I’m delighted to play against a fresh mind, though I must admit a slight offense at championing the petty god.” His laugh lines deepened. “Well, I have an appointment with the queen and the high lords in chambers this evening and much more to do beforehand.”
Strolling back with Lord Bernard’s arm warming her hand, Carolle relished the serenity of her surroundings. Aside from the nobles shouting and guffawing for attention, the lake offered tranquility, something she hadn’t really felt since her days as a footpad. The Pixie of Bryn Mawr had menaced traveling merchants for only two years before getting scooped up and assigned to rehabilitation in Queen Ada’s dance troupe, but Carolle had grown fond of the countryside.
At the edge of the fête, Lord Bernard slowed their walk and asked, “Shall I leave you to the fête or escort you back to the Verdict Ring?”
Carolle shifted behind Lord Bernard to block her eyeline to Lady Leupp on the knoll. “If I’m already in the valley, is it illegal, like, to stay for a while longer on my own? Have an afternoon stroll?”
He, too, spied Lady Leupp’s way. “Go on. My presence does not increase the worthiness of your character in accordance to this stricture or any other. I’ll mention it to the royal guards. If anyone dares to raise issue against it, I shall personally pardon you.” Unbending his arm, he set her free. “Thackeray shall arrange our game for the next day free of your performance. Would you prefer to play here again?”
“Yes!” Carolle answered with more glee than she’d intended. She curtsied. “I had a wonderful time, I did, diolch yn fawr. Fresh air and bright leaves. Those mountains. Can’t think of a better way to spend the day, really.”
Straight-backed with an air of belonging should someone try to stop her, Carolle parted ways with Lord Bernard and doubled back to the copse. She meandered at the shore, watching the reflection of the mountains and the shimmery mantles across the water.
Snapping branches brought her attention back to the copse. In unlaced green, Gaines emerged from the trees near the plum. He carried two maple goblets rimmed with silver. “You should be careful out here alone,” he said. “A crazed magus may sneak up on you.”
“I was feeling all right until you came creeping, good boy,” Carolle replied, moving closer to speak without being overheard.
“It’s that time of year again,” he said, offering her a goblet. “Warm spiced wine?”
Carolle accepted her drink. She sipped the clove-and-cinnamon-scented wine, her eyelids closing halfway. Too much spice overpowered the sweetness. “Finished giving Ludmilla Leupp a chase around the lawn?”
“She’s finished with me,” he said, hopping up to stand on the chessboard. “For now, anyway. Lord Eccles has arrived. To Ludmilla, he presents a more promising offer. More likely to die in his sleep on the wedding night, you see.”
“Ah,” Carolle said. “No accounting for taste, then.”
Gaines dropped to dangle his legs over the side of the table and grinned at her like a fool. “I’m sorry. Was that a compliment, Lady Ysbryd?”
Curling her lip, Carolle said, “Perhaps. But I meant it as an insult for her.”
“Oh, you wait and see; we’ll be friends before you know it.” He fiddled with his cambric sleeves and began rolling them up. “Now please tell me you’ve secured your next meeting with Lord Bernard.”
She swirled her wine in the hefty goblet as she paced around the table. “Aye, didn’t even have to try really. He’s going to teach me to play chess.”
Tucking in the last roll of his sleeve, Gaines furrowed his brow. “Chess? That’s a bit storybook, isn’t it? The noble teaching the, um, less cultured to be sophisticated?”
“No,” Carolle answered flatly. “We enjoyed ourselves today without one condescension between us. Try to imagine what that’s like.” She let Gaines off the hook when he bowed his head in apology. “You may want to know he mentioned there’ll be more Towers ‘if all goes to plan.’”
“More?” Gaines repeated with disgust. “Why? They barely keep the peace between the ones they have.” He cracked the knuckles on his right hand and shook it out. “Well, no one would permit a Tower in the Warring States. In any event, as I’ve said, you don’t need to concern yourself with those kinds of questions yet.”
“I didn’t ask him for you, man,” Carolle said. She flittered her fingers at him. “Go on back to Lady Leupp already, lest you lure her by here.”
Gaines threw a rude gesture in the direction of the fête. “Oh, as you wish.” He picked up his goblet and dropped off the table. At the tree line, he dallied. “Your troupe is attending the Winter Peak gala, yes?”
“How’d you know that?” Carolle asked. “The invitation only came this morning.”
He tapped his finger to his temple. “It’s tradition for one of the shows to perform at the opening. Yours is the newest.”
Gaines’s pink lips turned downward. “Keep bonding with the codger over your lessons. We’ll move things forward after the Winter Peak gala. In five weeks, we’ll be bolder.” He thought for a moment, drumming his fingers on his goblet. “I meant what I said; I need you to be my friend, Lady Ysbryd. Carolle.” He waited for her reaction. She granted permission to use her given name by silence alone. “I shall guard your back but may need you to guard mine as well.”
His statement put an itch between her shoulder blades, a guilty itch. Carolle agreed and choked down another sip of the bitter wine. “Off with you, Gaines. You bloody nobles are dramatic beyond, you are.”
“As the lady wishes,” he said with full bow and scrape, goblet to heart. He walked into the woods and called back, “Your dress for the gala shall be the best yet.”
She smiled before she caught herself and grumbled her way back to the shore. Whatever Gaines schemed, she knew one thing for certain: the Pixie was keeping her goblet.
