Checkmate

Aric walked into the foyer of his estate, the air tense. 

His gaze fell on Sylas, who stood at the center of the room, his face twisted in rage, nostrils flaring like an animal just barely restrained. Behind him were three men—Guards, no doubt—each of them hardened, with cold eyes that never drifted from Aric. 

Sylas's presence, fuming and aggressive, made the room feel tighter, the walls seeming to close in around them.

In the corner of the foyer, as if unaware of the storm gathering just a few feet away, sat old man Hitoshi and Serina. The two were engrossed in a chess match, seated on either side of a small round table, their faces inches from the board. 

Hitoshi's bushy white brows were furrowed in concentration, his hand hovering over a pawn, while Serina's youthful face mirrored his intensity. The game had entirely absorbed them—they hadn't even acknowledged Sylas's entrance.