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"This is a human game, no?"

Florence nodded.

"Shall we play?"

Her eyes flickered from the checkered board to Davian's autumnal gaze.

He leaned back in the wooden stool, with hands hung deep within his jacket pockets. Dark hair shielded the sheen of boredom glossing his eyes.

Florence reached out and moved the first piece—a birch colored pawn that felt awfully dense for such a small soldier. Her fingers rolled the balled tip together before pushing it forward one square.

Never in her wildest dreams was she sat across from a living prince, playing Chess.

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