queen's gambit
Sylvain rarely buys things for himself beyond the occasional cologne and beauty product, things that he uses to keep himself properly groomed and presentable. But today, see, is a bit of a special day; today, in the marketplace just beyond the monastery’s gates, there is a merchant with graying hair and shaking hands. Crow’s feet cradle her eyes, accentuated when Sylvain approaches.
He’d told her his name months ago and he towers over her by two feet, but she’d called him her little lad since the first time he’d dropped by her stall and hasn’t stopped since. Affectionately and in return, he’s taken to calling her his big grandmother. Her laugh always makes him smile, too.
“Took a while, but it’s done,” she tells him, and holds out a delicate box, made of wood and decorated by fire. On the side, she has written, in her neat script: for Sylvain. “You’ve got high standards, little lad.”
“I think you’re just using me to hide the fact that you’re still a perfectionist after all these years,” he teases her, and sets a heavy bag of coin down on her table. The box she gives him is heavy; he cradles it to his chest like it’s the most valuable thing in the world. At this point, it feels like it is.
“You’ve overpaid again.” She knows, even without lifting the bag.
“Have I?” Sylvain smiles. “No way. I’m only a little terrible with numbers, you know.”
She bats at him with a laugh. “Yes, yes, I’m sure. Now take your bleeding heart away from my stall. You’ll tell me next week how you like the pieces.”
“I’ll love it,” he tells her, and with his promises to swing by again, he takes his box—a chess set, handcrafted by the old woman and her sons—to return to the monastery. He can hardly keep the excitement from his face when he passes through the gates. Why, if there weren’t so many people around, he might even be tempted to skip.
But he has a reputation to uphold, which means no skipping—and, upon sighting one gorgeous Constance von Nuvelle, it also means it’s his Goddess-given duty to approach her.
“Well hello there, Constance! I’d say it’s a beautiful day today, but compared to how lovely you look, everything else seems to pale in comparison. What brings you out here?”
@irroche

















