Free The Prince Deceiver (The Silk & Steel Saga Book 6) by Karen Azinger Page A

she kept hope
alive, keeping his pieces from closing on her king. Relentless, she chased him
into a corner. Bringing all of her remaining pieces to bear, she threatened him
with a pawn. “Checkmate!” The word was sweet upon her lips.
    Rage flashed
across his face but was quickly smothered beneath a congenial mask...but his
eyes told the truth. Something ominous gleamed in the depths of his eyes,
something akin to hatred.
    The queen
stilled, a rabbit hiding from the hawk’s bloody talons, but then the prince
smiled and she doubted her own insight.
    Reaching
forward, he toppled his own king. “A victory for the Queen of Lanverness. That
makes one game apiece, the third game will tell the tale.” The prince offered her
his felled king. "To the winner goes the spoils." He drilled her with
his stare. So sharp, his gaze cut her like icy daggers. 
    Unable to blink,
unable to look away, the queen felt assaulted...she felt defiled.
    "Will you
have more wine?" Lady Sarah blustered into the chamber, a tray in hand.
    Light flared
behind the queen's eyes. Liandra broke from his stare, her head throbbing.
    The prince
snarled. Standing abruptly, he knocked the chess pieces across the board.
"You shall not win." His voice was a low hiss, a barely audible
threat.
    The queen
struggled to ignore her throbbing headache. “The last game is not even begun.”
    “This endgame is
closer than you think.”
    “Your arrogance
will be your undoing. Even a pawn can topple a king.”
    He sneered.
“Only in myths.”
    “Myths are
metaphors for life; any bard will tell you that.”
    “Bards and
pawns, I’ll grant you the riffraff of life, the dross of the back alleys, for
they shall never defeat magic and cunning. But then, what does a mere woman
know of either? How can a woman ever wield true power?” Turning abruptly, his
cape swept across the board, toppling the few remaining pieces. Without a
backward glance, the prince strode from the chamber.
    The queen
remained in her chair, staggered by the prince's parting words. You shall
not win. She stared at the chessboard. So many pieces toppled across the
board, the prince left wreckage in his wake.
    "Are you
well, majesty?" Lady Sarah hovered close, concern on her face. "So
sorry to interrupt, but I didn't like the way he was staring at you."
    "You did
well to interrupt." The queen rubbed her forehead.
    Lady Sarah
gathered up the cheese platter and forgotten wine goblets. "Will you play
him again, majesty?"
    "We suspect
we are entangled in some game to which we barely know the rules."
    "How can
you play a game when you don't know the rules?"
    "Life often
entangles us in the games of others. The real question is learning how to win
even if you are blind to the rules."
    Lady Sarah gave
her a puzzled look. "How do you do that, majesty?"
    The queen gave
her friend a wan smile. "Know your enemy. Know yourself. And then make
your own rules."
    "Is that
what you're doing?"
    "We
try." The queen closed her eyes, hoping to dull her headache.
    "Can I
bring you something?"
    "Leave the
wine."
    "As you
wish." Filling the queen's goblet, the lady retreated from the chamber.
    The queen sat
alone before the toppled chess set, malachite soldiers and ebony gargoyles
scattered across the iridescent board. Two chess games, each as different as
night and day. The prince was far more complex than he first seemed and his
barbed talk of Navarre and the precarious nature of her own royal line put her
teeth on edge. Some deeper game was at work here. Magic to quicken a child, the
thought wormed itself into her mind. Plots within plots. Liandra reached for a
goblet of red wine. She’d won the second game, but somehow she felt as if she’d
lost.

11
    The Mordant
     
    The Mordant
returned to his manse, seething with anger, cursing the queen. Twice she'd
foiled his soul-strike, but he'd defeat her with chains of a different sort.
Adding insult to injury, she'd snatched victory from defeat in the chess match.
The silly board