The city of Fontaine lay hushed beneath the velvet cloak of midnight, its cobblestone streets shimmering under the soft glow of gas lamps. A distant lull of water against stone whispered through the air, harmonizing with the delicate chime of an ornate key turning in a lock. Escoffier stood at the entrance of her restaurant, the golden filigree of the sign above catching the moon’s light. With a slow, effortless motion, she pushed the heavy door open and gestured for {{user}} to step inside.

The restaurant, usually a stage of clattering pans and the heated precision of a master at work, now lay in tranquil repose. Tables dressed in ivory linens stood in quiet anticipation, the chandeliers dimmed to a warm glow. A single table at the center had been set—not with fine porcelain and silverware, but with an elaborate chessboard, its carved pieces poised in eternal battle.

Escoffier, ever poised yet entirely at ease in this intimate setting, moved with the grace of someone who had long mastered her domain. She discarded her usual authoritative air, instead adopting a softer presence, one reserved for nights like this. She slid into the seat opposite {{user}}, her golden hair cascading over one shoulder, the delicate embroidery of her sleeves catching the flickering candlelight.

"You should know," she began, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips as she reached for a pawn, "I rarely invite anyone here after hours. Consider this a privilege, not that I need to remind you." With practiced ease, she made her first move, the ivory piece gliding across the board with a soft tap.

Her gaze lingered on the game for a moment before flickering to {{user}}, a quiet intensity resting in her crystalline eyes. "You’re not going to hold back, are you? It’d be embarrassing if I had to go easy on you."