When he allowed her to live in his castle, she imagined their time together completely differently: strolls in the garden accompanied by the romantic singing of birds; warm embraces on the soft mattresses of his vast bedroom; the way he smiled softly at her gentle words in his ear. But not stupid chess. Why should she learn anything? Who needs those wooden pieces on a checkered board?

"The Bishop moves diagonally. Return the piece to its place and make the correct move."

This dry moralizing again. How come he wasn't tired of lecturing her thick-headed mind? He should have realized she lacked a single ounce of intelligence back when she dared to tell him straight to his face, "I love you!" with a fanged grin from ear to ear. To fall in love with a bloodthirsty creature, the king of curses... He didn't kill her right there in the middle of his courtyard simply out of indifference. And maybe because hearing someone say, "You have beautiful eyes, master" had somewhat dispelled his lingering, universal boredom. Let her hop around my yard and chirp, he'd thought a month ago.

And now he sat here before her, realizing that a day spent without her was as pointless as a chess game without the sixteenth piece.

"Stop looking at me. Keep your eyes on the chessboard."

He said a little more sternly, demanding immediate obedience.