Chapter 45- This Is Madness
The game should have ended twenty minutes ago.
At least that was what Elias claimed.
Unfortunately for Elias, reality had once again chosen to side with Veronica.
I watched as the final game piece struck the board with a sharp wooden crack that echoed through the room. Several nearby pieces rattled from the force of it while Veronica slowly leaned backward against the couch cushions with all the confidence of a conquering general returning from war.
For a moment, nobody spoke.
The fire crackled softly in the hearth.
Rain continued battering the palace windows.
The warm scent of tea, parchment, and burning wood filled the room. And three fully grown adults stared at a wooden game board as if it contained state secrets.
Nathaniel was the first to lean closer.
His dark eyes moved slowly across the board.
Methodically.
The way a man might inspect a crime scene. Elias followed a second later. Then both men looked at Veronica.
Then back at the board.
Then at Veronica again.
The confusion on their faces was almost identical. Which only made Veronica's smile grow wider. The woman looked insufferably pleased with herself. Without warning, she raised her hand and gave both men the middle finger.
"Losers."
Her grin widened.
"There is a reason I am Head Captain."
Elias immediately pointed at her.
"You cheated."
Veronica gasped. One hand flew dramatically to her chest. The performance would have been more convincing if she hadn't already been laughing.
Nathaniel sighed.
I smiled into my teacup.
Elias looked exhausted.
"You are unbelievable."
"I am gifted."
"You are cheating."
"I am talented."
"You are cheating."
"I am what happens when perfection takes human form." Nathaniel closed his eyes. I watched him take a slow breath. The kind soldiers take before deciding whether murder is worth the paperwork.
Veronica noticed.
She smiled at him, too.
"Don't worry, pudding. One day you'll be almost as good as me." Nathaniel looked genuinely offended.
"Almost?"
"Let's not be unrealistic."
I laughed.
Veronica stretched lazily across the floor like a cat that had successfully murdered a bird and wanted everyone to admire the corpse.
"You know what the truly embarrassing part is?"
Elias groaned.
"No."
"The fact that your entire profession revolves around strategy.
" Nathaniel immediately sat back. Apparently, he knew where this conversation was going.
Elias looked toward the ceiling. Likely searching for patience.
Or divine intervention. Perhaps both. "And yet somehow," Veronica continued mercilessly, "you cannot beat me. "
She tapped the board.
Then tapped it again.
For emphasis.
"Not once."
I bit my lip.
Elias pointed toward her.
"You're impossible."
Veronica smiled sweetly.
"Yet victorious."
"You are cheating."
"Prove it."
The challenge hung in the air. Elias immediately grabbed the rule book. Nathaniel leaned over beside him. The two men began reading with the desperation of scholars attempting to decode ancient prophecy. Meanwhile, Veronica sat back, looking absolutely delighted. The woman enjoyed victory.
No.
That wasn't quite accurate.
Veronica enjoyed rubbing victory directly into other people's faces until they questioned every life choice that had brought them to that moment.
There was a difference.
A terrifying difference.
"Besides," Veronica continued, "I am better than you at everything."
Elias barked out a laugh.
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
She pointed dramatically toward herself.
"I am the better swordsman. The better strategist."
"No."
"The better rider."
Elias opened his mouth.
Paused.
Closed it again.
Veronica immediately pointed at him.
The gesture contained the triumphant energy of a woman who had just conquered a small nation.
"See?"
Elias muttered something unpleasant beneath his breath. Veronica looked thrilled. I found myself wondering if her soul was somehow powered entirely by other people's pain.
Honestly?
It would explain a lot.
Then the conversation somehow shifted toward money.
I still don't know how.
One moment, they were arguing about strategy.
The next Veronica was bragging about her income.
"You only make more than I because of your pension."
"It counts."
"It absolutely does not."
"It does."
"No."
"Veronica."
The woman pointed accusingly toward him.
"You are literally being paid for existing."
"I work."
"You mean your bloodline work. You receive a pension because of your royal bloodline, my love."
"It counts."
"It doesn't."
"It does."
Nathaniel slowly lowered his head into his hands. I watched the motion. Then looked toward Veronica. Then back toward Nathaniel. Then burst into laughter. The poor man looked so tired.
Like he had witnessed something that permanently damaged him.
Veronica remained completely serious. Which somehow made everything funnier.
"I am the highest-paid guard in the empire."
Nobody argued because she was.
"The highest paid noble." Still true. "The wealthiest woman in the kingdom."
I cleared my throat.
Veronica pointed at me.
"Excluding royalty."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Then she turned back toward Elias and narrowed her eyes suspiciously. A dangerous expression. The same expression she wore before interrogations. Or before threatening ministers. Or before throwing people out of windows.
"You aren't dating me for my money, are you?"
I nearly inhaled tea.
Nathaniel made a sound that might have been a cry of pain.
Elias stared at her.
Just stared.
For several long seconds.
The silence stretched.
"We've known each other for years."
"That doesn't answer the question."
"Veronica."
"You might be exploiting me."
"Veronica."
"I don't know how I feel about financially supporting my future husband."
I laughed so hard my stomach hurt.
Soon, a new game started.
One after another.
The room grew warmer as the evening deepened.
Rain hammered against the windows while firelight painted the walls gold.
At some point, servants delivered food.
At some point, Elias lost again.
At some point, Veronica became unbearable. Actually, she had been unbearable from the beginning. She became more unbearable. The woman narrated her victories. Every single one. In detail.
With commentary.
And occasionally diagrams.
I had no idea someone could become this arrogant over a board game. Then again, Veronica once threatened a seven-year-old over cards.
Perhaps I should have expected this. Eventually, I stopped trying to beat her directly.
That was impossible.
Instead, I watched.
Observed.
Learned.
Achilles always said people revealed themselves through games. He said games stripped away masks. Eventually, people stopped pretending and became themselves.
At the time, I thought he was being dramatic.
Now I wasn't so sure. Veronica played games the same way she approached battle.
Aggressively.
Fearlessly.
Every move had purpose. Every decision pushed people where she wanted them to be. It was less like watching someone play and more like watching someone set traps.
Then I noticed something else.
A pattern.
She was cheating
It was so clever that we all kept missing it.
Her hands moved so fast that cards went missing right under our noses, and we still failed to notice.
I spent several games testing it.
Several more are learning how to use it.
Then finally
"I win."
The room froze.
Veronica stopped speaking. Nathaniel stopped breathing. Elias looked hopeful for the first time all evening.
Slowly.
Very slowly.
Veronica turned toward me.
"What?"
"I win."
The silence that followed was glorious. Veronica stared at the board. Then at me. Then at the board again. Then back at me.
"You cheated."
"I didn't."
"You absolutely cheated."
"I didn't."
Her eyes narrowed. Then widened. Then narrowed again. Suddenly, she started laughing.
"When did you figure it out?"
"A few games ago."
The grin spreading across her face looked frighteningly proud.
"clever girl ."
Elias immediately pointed at me.
"She's cheating."
Nathaniel nodded.
"Definitely cheating."
"No."
Both men looked betrayed.
Veronica folded her arms. "She adapted." That somehow offended them more.
The argument lasted another hour.
Possibly longer.
Eventually, the room blurred together.
The voices softened the warmth of the fire wrapped around me. My body grew heavier.
Sleepier.
More exhausted than I wanted to admit.
Enough to turn exhaustion into a living thing.
Enough to make my eyelids heavier with every passing minute. I stretched out across the rug, just for a moment. The carpet was soft. Comfortable. Warm from the nearby fire. The voices continued around me.
Veronica laughing.
Nathaniel arguing.
Elias complaining.
The sounds blended into something soothing.
Safe.
Familiar.
My eyes closed.
Only briefly.
Just for a second.
The next thing I knew, someone was laying a blanket across me.
I opened one eye.
Veronica was stealing game pieces.
Again.
I smiled.
Then darkness pulled me under.
The next time I surfaced, I wasn't entirely awake.
The world felt distant. Dreamlike. I heard a door open. Cold air drifted through the room. Then Veronica laughed. The sound floated through the haze.
"Gods, you look like a wet dog." A familiar voice answered. Too quiet to understand. "Go change before you catch a cold."
Then suddenly I was moving.
Strong arms lifted me from the floor.
I frowned.
Not because I disliked it.
Because apparently my imagination had become incredibly ambitious.
Really?
Hallucinations now?
Wonderful.
The physicians had forgotten to mention that side effect. I made a mental note to complain later.
A formal complaint.
Possibly written.
Dear physicians,
I regret to inform you that my loneliness has progressed to the point where I am creating imaginary husbands.
Please advise.
The thought made me smile sleepily.
The scent reached me next.
Rain.
Leather.
Smoke.
Home.
I sighed.
Oh.
This was a very detailed hallucination.
Honestly?
I was impressed.
Weeks ago, my imagination produced dreams.
Now it produces scents.
Progress.
The arm holding me tightened slightly.
Warm.
Solid.
Protective.
Gods.
My madness had excellent taste. I burrowed closer. If my mind insisted on creating an imaginary version of my husband, I fully intended to enjoy it. The hallucination was remarkably realistic.
I could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest. The warmth beneath my cheek. The rough fabric beneath my fingers. Honestly, if I were losing my mind, I deserved credit for the craftsmanship.
The bed appeared beneath me.
Soft.
Cool.
The warmth vanished. Immediately, disappointment hit. There it was again. Then the mattress dipped. Strong arms wrapped around me once more. Pulling me firmly against a broad chest.
Heat returned.
Safety returned.
Comfort returned.
I sighed happily.
Never mind.
The hallucination had come back.
Excellent.
Very considerate of it. I pressed closer immediately. Before my imagination changed its mind. The arm around me tightened. Clearly, I had become completely insane.
That was the only explanation. A perfectly reasonable explanation. Certainly more reasonable than believing Achilles had actually returned.
Because if he had returned, I would have noticed.
Probably.
Maybe.
Actually, now that I think about it...
No.
Insanity.
Definitely insanity.
I nodded sleepily against his chest.
Yes.
That made much more sense. My loneliness had finally become sentient. Wonderful. I nestled deeper into the warmth. The heartbeat beneath my cheek remained steady.
My eyes refused to open. Because if I opened them, reality might return. Reality was lonely. Reality was cold. Reality was an empty bed.
This?
This was warm.
This smelled like rain and leather and home. This wrapped strong arms around me and held me close. If madness wanted to spoil me for one night, who was I to complain?
The last thing I remember before sleep finally dragged me under completely was smiling against the warmth of this truly was insanity...
Then perhaps insanity wasn't nearly as bad as everyone claimed.