"To play the pawns well; they are the soul of chess: it is they which uniquely determine the attack and the defense, and on their good or bad arrangement depends entirely on the winning or losing of the game." - François-André Danican Philidor
They...
"No one can be happy in eternal solitude." Anne Brontë, The Tenant of Wildfell Hall (1848)
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Blood Moon Shadow Pack, 1477
Veronica
The room was dull and cold.
The warm liquid dripping from my forehead forced me to open my eyes.
My body was numb. All I could do is writhe as my whimpers echoed through the walls.
There was no movement without pain.
The agony of the silver chains that burned the flesh of my ankle and wrist was piercing. I can't help but weep at the state I'm in, bound and naked. My tears caused tiny ripples on the pool of blood under me, from the cuts and lashes. My wounds were long and thin, like the knives and whips they used. Blossoms of purple and black covered the marred skin that hugged my bones tight. I winced when I felt soreness between my legs. I cried harder. Even these chains couldn't hold up my spirits nor my dignity.
My mother died after giving birth to me. That's what they want people to believe. The King said it was my fault, but I knew the truth. He killed my mother, his wife that night. As if being born a disgrace wasn't enough, in my twenty-four years of existence, I was wolfless. I was shunned and stripped down of my rights to be part of the royal family. When I was sixteen, I found my mate. His name was Edward, Lord Archibald's son, but he rejected me even before I could say a word to him.
"I don't want you as my mate. It'll taint my family's name."
I sneered at the memory. Coward.
I couldn't care less about royalties.
A few people took pity. Others would beat me to death. The King made sure to remind me of the sole purpose of my life: serving the royals, the council, and his allies. Fulfill every request they made.
The cell door was yanked open by the devil himself. He looked furious as he tilted my chin then spit on my face.
"You had one thing to do slut, the only thing you're good at, yet you fail!" he shouted, hands locked on my hair. "The Chief Warrior of the North told me you passed out before he finished!" he said, landing a solid slap on my cheeks.
