CHAPTER 433: CHECKMATE UNDER THE SUN

By the time the bath had cooled and the morning light deepened into gold, Luna and Orpheus finally rose from the water. The warmth still clung to their skin, and the air smelled faintly of lavender and steam. Luna wrapped herself in a white robe embroidered with silver thread, while Orpheus donned a simple dark tunic that brought out the quiet sharpness in his eyes.

They left the bathhouse side by side, their steps unhurried. The estate’s halls were silent save for the distant song of birds drifting in from the gardens. The calm that followed their shared morning felt almost sacred — an unspoken harmony that words might have broken.

In the main hall, sunlight poured through tall arched windows, scattering across the polished floors and illuminating a grand chess table carved from black and white marble. It was an old heirloom of Luna’s family, one she often used to test her strategic mind against visiting nobles — few of whom dared to challenge her twice.

But today, as she glanced toward the table and saw Orpheus’s faintly amused expression, spark of competitiveness reignited in her chest.

"You’re thinking it," she said, narrowing her eyes.

Orpheus tilted his head innocently.

"Thinking what?"

"That you could beat me at chess."

"I wasn’t," he said, walking toward the table, "but now that you mention it..."

Her lips curved into a grin. "Fine. Let’s settle this. One game."

"One game," he agreed, his tone smooth.

"But don’t say I didn’t warn you."

They sat across from each other, the morning light spilling over the board as Luna moved her first pawn with confidence. Orpheus mirrored her move calmly, his hand steady, his expression unreadable.

At first, the game began evenly — pawns advancing, knights leaping, bishops cutting through the board with elegance. Luna’s eyes gleamed with sharp focus, her fingers tapping lightly on the table as she calculated her next move.

"You’re not bad," she said after a few turns.

"But you’re predictable."

Orpheus raised an eyebrow. "Predictable?" He moved his queen. "I prefer the word ’methodical.’"

Luna frowned slightly as his piece took one of her knights. She leaned forward, studying the board with mock suspicion. "I see... You’re one of those quiet killers. Smile politely, and then—bam! My knight’s gone."

He chuckled. "Better than charging without a plan, don’t you think?"

Her lips twitched. "We’ll see about that."

The pieces danced across the board — a clash of minds rather than blades, though the tension felt no less fierce. Every time Luna made a move, Orpheus countered with calm precision. His strategy unfolded slowly, deliberately, a web tightening around her.

"Hmm..." Luna muttered, scanning the board. "You’re cornering my queen."

"Am I?" he asked, feigning innocence.

"You are," she said flatly. "And I hate it."

He smiled — that infuriatingly composed smile — and moved his rook. "Check."

Luna groaned. "Already?"

"You could resign," he offered.

"Never," she shot back, eyes narrowing. "I’ll fight to the end."

The next few minutes were a blur of quick moves and counterplays. Luna leaned so close to the board her hair brushed the marble, while Orpheus sat back, fingers steepled, watching her with quiet amusement.

Her mind raced — she tried a feint, sacrificed a pawn, even attempted a bold flank — but Orpheus adapted effortlessly. Each of her attacks collapsed under his calm counterstrikes.

Finally, his knight slid into place, trapping her king in a tight corner.

"Checkmate," he said softly.

Luna froze, staring at the board as if the pieces had betrayed her. The realization hit, and she slowly leaned back in her chair with a dramatic sigh. "Unbelievable."

Orpheus’s smile widened. "You played well."

"I lost in fifteen moves!" she exclaimed.

"Fourteen," he corrected gently.

"That makes it worse!"

He laughed quietly, resting his chin on his hand. "You’re improving, though. You almost had me in the mid-game."

Luna folded her arms, glaring at the board.

"Almost isn’t good enough."

"Would you like a rematch?"

Her head snapped up. "Obviously."

The second game began, fiercer than the first. This time, Luna moved faster, her confidence undimmed. Her golden eyes burned with focus as she plotted each move like a commander rallying troops.

Orpheus adjusted his strategy — slower, more defensive, watching how she adapted. Their pieces clashed again and again, each turn a calculated risk. The sound of the marble pieces clicking against the board echoed softly in the sunlit hall.

Minutes stretched into an hour. Luna refused to back down, even when her position began to crumble again.

"You’re smiling," she said, squinting at him.

"You think you’ve already won."

"I think," Orpheus said calmly, moving his queen into position, "that confidence suits you."

Luna blinked, momentarily thrown off by the unexpected compliment. "Flattery won’t save your king."

"Wasn’t meant to," he murmured — and then, smoothly, he moved his final piece.

Her eyes widened. "Wait—"

"Checkmate."

Silence.

Luna slumped forward, resting her forehead against the table with a muffled groan. "No... no, no, no. I was so close!"

"Closer than last time," Orpheus admitted.

"Seventeen moves."

She glared up at him. "You’re enjoying this."

"Absolutely," he said with no shame at all.

When Luna finally admitted defeat, Orpheus rose and circled the table. He stopped behind her chair, resting a hand gently on her shoulder.

"You’re too hard on yourself," he said.

"I hate losing."

"I know," he said, voice soft. "That’s why you’ll get better faster than anyone."

Her pout softened, and she tilted her head just enough to glance up at him. "You think so?"

"I know so."

A faint blush crept across her cheeks.

"You’re just saying that because you like watching me lose gracefully."

He chuckled, squeezing her shoulder gently.

"There’s nothing graceful about your losing face."

"You are so mean" she said, mock-offended.

"Not this morning," he teased.

She laughed despite herself, the sound soft and musical. The frustration melted away, replaced by warmth — that same easy comfort that had followed them all morning.

Later, they carried the board to the veranda overlooking the hills. The orchard stretched far into the horizon, the trees heavy with fruit. A light breeze brushed through, carrying the scent of apples and sunlight.

Luna poured two cups of tea, handing one to Orpheus.

"Next time," she said, eyes glinting, "I’ll win."

He accepted the cup, meeting her gaze with a faint smile. "I’ll look forward to it."

They clinked their cups lightly, sipping as the sun climbed higher. The world felt calm — two warriors at peace, bound by laughter and quiet companionship.