Page 42 of The Silent Princess

So perhaps not all is lost then.

Tristan

Retaliation was expected. Thick blood drips all over my chess set, coating the handmade marble pieces in crimson liquid. Had each piece not taken two months to craft by hand by an artist in a small town near Verona, perhaps I would not be in such a displeased state. But pile onto that the realization that Ella was sitting right here a few hours ago, and now I can feel wrath settling beneath my fibers, spreading like cobwebs. Who is Ella to me now? Is she still a stranger? I will admit, on my part, she has already taken place in my mind, probably more than she should have, but the thought of her, vulnerable and shaken, hours away from whoever came here to commit this act, is deeply, deeply unsettling.

Nate stands beside me, sharp and calm in his black suit, a fresh razor cut on his jaw, the thing all too common ever since having Maddie and having to juggle it all by himself. Without a word, I unlock my screen, and right as I am about to call Ella, I realize how idiotic my action is.

Me: Where are you? Are you safe?

I text. She does not answer right away, and I tap my leather shoes on the floor repeatedly, listening as Nate talks about possible entry points and cameras we could check, my mind drifting to the young woman who was here yesterday. Will she be safe now that I have paid a visit to her stepmother? Will she be safe coming here tonight again, given the situation? “My bet was on your car getting the brakes cut, but this is, well, much different.”

“We knew they’d warn us back,” I say calmly.

“Yeah,” he runs a hand on his chin, “but the Vodianovs are not the most subtle, usually.”

“You’re right. They don’t waste time with subliminal messages.”

“Perhaps they have a new brain. Someone who is a better player.”

“No. That’s Cole. Look.” I point at the dark king, fallen while all the other pieces are still standing. “He did not appreciate our encounter last night and wanted to strike back. Pressure us.”

“Chess. How odd.”

“His father taught him. It was in his report.”

“You mean the file you learned by heart.”

“As you should too.”

“It did not occur to me that I had to learn all our enemies’ hobbies as well,” he snaps back. “By the way, he entered his first tournament when he was twelve, lost to a man called Smavlov, then took private lessons with a grandmaster for four consecutive years. Should I go on?” His delivery is sharp, with a flair I would qualify as a tight-ass British investigator, but I suppose that is just Nate. He’s always been the observant kind. I would smirk if I were not trying to figure out a way through this mess.

Think.

I have played all the moves in my head. It was a possibility. It was inevitable. Cole Vodianov wants war, and he has just signed a treaty by covering my chess set with what I gather, from the consistency, is most likely pig blood.

“Cancel all our appointments today. Reinforce security in the building and add more on our floor. Make sure we are guarded cyber-security-wise and track down all Cole’s movements since his men found him last night. I will call Brenton, Matt, and Saoirse.”

“Saoirse won’t answer.”

“She will. She is already watching, I can assure you.” I click my tongue. Saoirse is a highly trained and capable woman, as visible as a cloud of dust, and she has worked for me ever since I took the reins. Matt introduced us. They worked together in the Middle East when he was in the army. Labeling her a private investigator would be an affront. Anything that Matt and Brenton can’t do, she does. I would say she can slide into anybody’s skin and dig out their darkest secrets. Although her services are not easy to catch, as she is indeed a spider, playing hide-and-seek until she finds a good enough reason to come into plain sight. Brenton is much more reliable, even if his approaches are far more conventional. My phone vibrates as I hear Nate’s voice behind me, pacing as he makes calls.

Ella: Home. Yes, why? Aren’t you?

A weight lifts off my shoulders.

Me: What are your plans today?

Ella: I’ll be downtown after lunch. My stepmother wants us to go on a shopping spree together.

Mara Brooks, what game are you playing? One does not go from ice to fire without a reason. Is she truly trying to make peace with Ella or drag her into her depths? On the other hand, if she is downtown, then…

Me: Meet me after.

Ella: I don’t know if it’s possible. I told you I’d be there tonight after my shift.

Is it safe for her to come here? Am I thinking clearly? If she cannot work here tonight, then when will I see her? My head spins, and I shake my arm, as if shaking away a cramp. Those migraines have the worst timing.

Me: Please.