Chapter 162: The bishop and the royals
The evening had begun to descend on the English lands and this meant, for many of the noble families, that an hour of free activity before dinner was approaching.
Among the people touched by this were also the Stanley brothers, who invariably were all together, and invariably dealt with completely different things.
The last rays of the pale sun shone through the large, precious and transparent windows of the common room.
Walter and Marcus were both seated, facing each other, on the precious and soft armchairs of the room but even if the two did not look into each other's eyes, their gazes were concentrated on a chess board placed on the dining table.
Their game went on for maybe half an hour, and it was incredible to see how logically the two were able to plan their moves.
The elder played the colour black, the younger played white and without mentioning a word, unless for uncomfortable comments, the two lords did not seem to be very inclined to talk at that moment.
In the meantime, Samuel observed the two from a distance, from a soft padded chair beyond the place where the two were, he really observed around himself as if he were composing yet another poem and was in desperate need of new words or convincing adjectives to use.
He watched from behind them, what could he add? There were so many fascinating things in that place: maybe the colours: brown and black of his brothers' hair illuminated by the last rays of the sun, or the magnificent notes and symphonies that the young Sophia, their young stepsister was playing accompanying their game.
Samuel did not know, so after a while he finished looking for details around the room and only, having taken ink and nib, continued to write what was projected in his mind.
The lord's soft and wavy blond hair fell sweaty from the heat of the day up to his shoulders, his blue eyes were concentrated in writing and rereading his mistakes, which had most shifted the attention of the two older half-brothers to him.
-What the hell, Samuel! Calm down, it seems that you are really writing something of vital importance- Marcus joked placing his grey and magnificent almond eyes towards his younger half-brother.
Samuel looked up at him: himself and his half brothers, each resembled their own mother and for that reason all of them were incredibly different.
While Walter was a mixed English-Italian and showed huge features of Northern Italy on his pale face and big green eyes, Marcus, his middle brother, had remarkable Asian-European characteristics.
The younger brother lifted his eyes from the sheet on which he was composing his poems and let his hands and mind write rhymes and briefly glanced at the chess board on which his two older half-brothers were still playing.
Walter was slightly ahead of Marcus and was moving forward, with the black army eating his brother's pawns.
Bishop...Marcus was desperately seeking victory, not realising that with both horses dead and only one tower left he was giving his older brother a great chance and advantage in putting the king in checkmate.
Walter had moved the queen, she could act and move as she wanted, eat whoever she wanted without too many thoughts, it was strange, how that thing was incredibly inspiring the poetic young man.
A queen free to eat whoever she wanted, free to act as she wanted, that aphorism: Isabelle Hannover.
Marcus' bishop shrewdly dodged the queen, blocking her in the next move, now he was ahead, blocking the queen had guaranteed the next move, eat her: Diane Stanley.
The king was completely exposed at that point, completely and it only took a small move by the bishop to get closer to the royal and make him give up and completely quit the game: Connor Jones.
In all the happiness of the moment, in the hard-fought game that had been going on for some time, Samuel, whose mind was usually very creative, couldn't help but think how that chess scene he had just experienced was full of aphorisms, which had completely inspired him to write something new and innovative.
The bishop who beats the queen and sets the king in checkmate, a mulatto girl who over the years had fought for freedom, she was the bishop in the game, his younger half-sister.
Samuel felt the paper being torn from his hands, he imagined it, he couldn't do much against his two older half-brothers, simply, nothing had changed since they were children, they hadn't grown even a little bit.
-Stop it! Give it back Walter!- Samuel protested leaning towards the two who had stolen the poem.
The big green eyes of his brother settled ironically on the sheet, reading the words, which for the quick creativity had been sprawled on that white surface, Walter smiled mockingly for a few moments. -The bishop and the royals?! A poem?! Come on Samuel, do you really believe that someone wants to read this stuff?- asked the man with an air of mockery but ultimately letting his younger half-brother be able to recover his work.
Samuel's face was red with embarrassment, from his nose to his pale cheeks, a colour that completely contrasted with the deep blue of his eyes and the pale blond colour of his wavy hair.
His eyes were covered with a veil of humidity as he tightened the poem to his chest: he knew his brothers would mock him and that was why he had never, ever revealed to them his passion for writing.
-Yes, I love to write, this is true...- Samuel admitted wiping his wet eyes with the backs of his pale hands -...and I know that you cannot appreciate this passion of mine but I really believe that this can really inspire many people in the vision of the truth...- the one admitted with a smile, looking up at the two half-brothers.
He wasn't hoping for a gentle reaction, which he wasn't granted anyway but something quite special instead came out of the soft pink lips of one of the people he would never have believed.
-I think Samuel is right- admitted Sophia Stanley placing her support on the side of her older stepbrother, something that Samuel, in his life had never been used to yet -on the other hand this could help to make the vision of freedom clearer and make it clear that women are also capable of fighting and defending their principles, just like men- the girl admitted slowly turning a hint of challenge and anger against the two perpetrators.
Samuel glanced at the girl, how wise she was, for only being thirteen, glanced at her long wavy brown hair reaching her breasts, at her grainy blue eyes, at her pale face.
It was a strange feeling, on the other hand Samuel had always been used in his childhood to protect himself from his brothers alone, so the fact that a young assistant was at his side was something special, magnificent and new.
-You are pathetic Samuel, to let a girl defend you- Marcus commented, as together with his older brother, embittered by that insolent little one, they decided to leave the room to go and deal with different things.
-Thank you for supporting me, Sophia- thanked the man in a whisper with the fear that the two could still hear him and maybe even punish him more for what he was saying.
The girl winked at him, smiled sincerely -it is fine, on the other hand we rebels must always support each other to achieve our goals, right?-.
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