Recently, I had changed my approach to chess. I would play as if considering a couple of pieces expendable. Sometimes I would proceed with the game as if the pawns and knights didn’t exist, other times as if the pawns and bishops didn’t. I tried to understand his game style by making efforts to compete with him on somewhat similar terms.

Because someday, I was determined to win.

However, just as I was figuring him out, he would also be figuring me out. That’s why I needed to practice creating variables and setting complex, intricate traps.

“If I could win easily, I wouldn’t need to face you until now, Count.”

I moved my knight to target his bishop. Shallow wrinkles formed between Beitram’s brows, as if he had expected the queen to move away.

While he calculated my move, I observed him. Though it was dreadful just to look at him, it was a habit I had developed to learn what expressions he made in various situations.

His eyes, which seemed to mix the coolness of a sleek snake with the ferocity of a savage beast, narrowed beneath his ash-like hair and reddish-black skin. I tried to read something from that expressionless face, but nothing was legible.

What on earth does this man want? For what purpose does he live, hurting people so cruelly?

Beitram, who had been reaching for his bishop, suddenly frowned and widened his eyes as if something bothered him. Our gazes met directly, but I didn’t avert my eyes. I was already accustomed to that intense gaze that seemed to roar at its opponent.

Beitram spoke in a low, deep voice:

“I think your gaze is excessively long, Lady Bickman. Do you have something to say?”

“Have you ever been happy in your life?”

At my sudden question, Beitram’s eyes froze. A brief silence followed, and he asked:

“What?”

“Sincerely, have you ever been so happy that your heart felt full?”

The golden-green eyes distorted. It was the expression of someone encountering an incomprehensible life form.

As I endured his gaze in the awkward silence, footsteps suddenly interrupted. Brook approached carefully and bowed his head.

“I apologize for the interruption. An urgent message has arrived for the Count.”

Glancing at him, Beitram clicked his tongue as if displeased. Then he moved his bishop to knock over my queen and stood up.

“It seems I’ve won this game……”

“I won.”

I cut off his words and immediately moved my bishop.

“Checkmate.”

As I murmured quietly, Beitram’s brow furrowed. His eyebrows gradually rose steeply as he scanned the board and calculated the moves. This would probably be recorded as the day I beat him in the shortest time.

This was an unexpected result. I hadn’t thought he would move his bishop. If he had looked at the board a little more carefully, he would have seen which way I was trying to lead him.

It was an uncharacteristically hasty decision for him.

“Master, it’s Hansen.”

The man who entered without waiting had grown a bushy beard. His cheeks were red and sweaty, suggesting he had been riding a horse for a long time. Holding his hat humbly near his lower abdomen, he looked at Beitram with an anxious face.

“P-please return to the castle right away. Madam, Madam Cecilie……”

Since Beitram’s gaze was still fixed on the chess board, the man hesitated awkwardly, then finally closed his eyes tightly and blurted out the rest:

“She has passed away.”

My lips parted helplessly without my realizing it.

I knew well what state Cecilie Ohr was in. And the tragic rumors surrounding her in the Ohr family.

Having lost consciousness and barely breathing like a living corpse, her condition had worsened since last winter. Since she could hardly take in nutrients, the doctor had diagnosed that she wouldn’t last long.

The most tragic victim of Beitram’s vicious actions would be Cecilie Ohr. Though I didn’t want to express any condolences to the count, I felt sympathy when thinking of her.

I rose from my seat and spoke with a respectful attitude:

“My heart grieves at this sudden sad news. I pray for the peaceful rest of Countess Balshwin……”

“The knight was bait.”

Beitram’s lips finally moved. And the next moment, I felt a chill down my spine and couldn’t move. He was smiling as if pleased when he raised his gaze.

“It was an enjoyable game, Lady Bickman. I look forward to the next one.”

I was momentarily stunned, not knowing how to interpret his smile. I couldn’t gauge whether he was trying to casually move past the situation by feigning composure, or if he was sincere.

His smile, seen in this unexpected situation, was making my heart cold.

“Let’s go.”

Beitram gestured impatiently to Hansen and took large strides. Hansen hurriedly bowed to me and followed him.

I quietly watched the two men leave the mansion. Maya, who had been observing the situation, rushed over.

“Are you alright, Miss?”

“……I need to hurry.”

“What? Hurry with what?”

Maya opened her eyes wide, but I didn’t answer. My thoughts were racing.

Even when the countess was alive, people spread disgusting rumors about my relationship with Beitram when he visited the Bickman mansion. If his visits continued after his wife’s death, then truly no man in all of Edmus would be found willing to marry me.

I needed to find a groom, anyone would do. As quickly as possible.

* * *

The more Beitram thought about it, the more incredulous he felt and suppressed a laugh. Lucienne’s chess skills were improving day by day. Now she could hold her own against almost anyone.

Moreover, she was skilled at deception. Like a merchant, she expertly exploited the psychology of people who are enticed by the bait before them. She would hide her true intentions as much as possible while scattering bait to inspire a sense of victory in her opponent. But when they realized it, that bait always turned out to be a shortcut to defeat.

Of course, she didn’t always succeed. But what was clear was that she would invariably devise a move that he would never notice, at least once.

Having played chess together for a long time, Lucienne had thoroughly figured out which paths he would choose in various situations. As a result, the time it took for her to win—in other words, the time he spent at the Bickman mansion—was gradually shortening.

When experiencing such unexpected defeats, he felt a chill as if an assassin’s blade had sliced between his ribs without him noticing.

The feeling of being closest to death. The momentary, dizzying sense of powerlessness was an emotion he rarely experienced.

By the time he became aware of it, he was already addicted. The moment when Lucienne suddenly declared “checkmate” in a clear voice had become the most thrilling moment in his daily life.

After tracing her moves again in his mind, Beitram narrowed his brow. At some point, it wasn’t the chess pieces but the fingers that moved them that kept flashing in his mind.

He had no eye for art. This was because he didn’t know what was beautiful. He could buy things worth money and manage merchant groups and people, but he didn’t know what objects captivated people.

Therefore, even the most beautiful women meant nothing special to him. After Cecilie became like that, he had kept a couple of mistresses, but since such acts were merely for reproduction to him, he didn’t seek them out often.

Consequently, their appearances meant nothing to him. Appearance was just a shell covering flesh. As long as they weren’t noisy, anyone would do.

But.

He recalled those piercing eyes. Large almond-shaped eyes filled with mysterious ash-colored pupils.

Lucienne never avoided his gaze. The number of people who would look him straight in the eye could now be counted on one hand. Even among those, no one would stare at him so openly for so long.

The young girl-like woman had changed a lot in four years. Her short hair sometimes made her look like a pretty boy, but when she wore dresses revealing her dazzlingly white shoulders, for some reason he felt hungry.

……Again.

Beitram clicked his tongue like a sigh. The area between his legs was swelling. Recently, after playing chess with Lucienne and returning home, he would get an *rection once in a while when recalling their time together.

Thinking about those eyes that shot at him clearly without fear, his c*ck hardened. To relieve the discomfort, he put his hand inside his pants and grabbed his *rect c*ck. The pillar with bluish veins protruding became even tighter.

All women’s bodies are the same. The pleasure they provided certainly existed but was brief and unsatisfying. Since anyone would be no different, it was more convenient to take care of himself when desire arose.

“Hoo.”

Exhaling a rough breath, he began to slowly touch his c*ck. The pillar, its tip wet with excitement, swayed with his movements. The squelching sound echoed lewdly.

First, he imagined thrusting his c*ck into a woman with spread legs. Since his mistresses were usually not wet inside, he had to apply ointment or oil beforehand. His c*ck was long and thick, so he had never inserted it all the way.

As a compromise, he thought about smelling a woman’s flesh and grasping her soft br*asts, and his lower abdomen began to twitch. To finish quickly, he tightly gripped his c*ck and stroked it, heightening his excitement. As his tense buttocks rhythmically bounced against the air, a quiet voice echoed in his head.

‘Checkmate.’

Murky s*men spurted out with a surge. After pausing briefly, his member *jaculated again but still remained *rect without losing strength. Annoyed, Beitram frowned and roughly wiped his dirty hand with a handkerchief from his pocket.

Forcibly stuffing his unsatisfied c*ck back into his pants made the front bulge out. The discomfort spreading through his stiff lower body left him feeling not at all refreshed. A moderate heat still lingered between his legs.

Something was missing. Missing by far.

Exhaling an irritated sigh, he turned his head to see Hansen standing awkwardly outside the carriage. They had arrived at the castle in the meantime.

Opening the door and stepping out, he saw Hansen bow deeply. He threw the dirty handkerchief on the ground and walked inside. The sky was turning red as if sunset was approaching.

As soon as he entered, the first thing he heard was the sound of children crying. Though they seemed well past the age for crying, the children often cried.

Of course, today they would be crying because their mother had died.

“You’ve arrived, Master. Um, Madam……”

“I heard.”

Waving his hand at the butler’s words, Beitram washed his hands in the basin brought by a maid and said:

“Prepare the funeral slowly. There are still some unresolved matters regarding the Ohr family’s assets. You haven’t spread the news that Cecilie died, have you?”

“Of course not. Other than sending Hansen to you right away. We haven’t even called a doctor yet.”

“You shouldn’t have told the children either. Now it’s gotten noisy.”

The butler bowed his head at Beitram’s words as he looked toward the sound of crying.