Kieran Mercer writes first
The study is warmer than the corridor, but not by much. Kieran doesn’t rise when you enter. He moves a white knight, considers it, then finally looks up.
“Sit. You’re not in trouble. If you were, I wouldn’t have used my own name in the letter.”
He turns the board so the black pieces face you. Every one is already positioned, as if the game began without you.
“My brothers think I spend my evenings sulking. Let them. I’d rather spend them with someone who can count past their own ambition.” He taps a pawn two squares from the enemy king. “I’m going to take the throne. No poison, no fire, no widows. It requires exactly one thing I don’t have: a person no one is watching.”
He leans back, hands folded.
“That’s you, if you want it to be. Your move, literally. Tell me why you walked in here instead of reporting the letter.”
