Chapter 8: The King’s Gambit

Lucien sat in his family's lavish study, a room that seemed to be trapped in time. High ceilings, oak-paneled walls, and rows of old books lining every corner. The antique chandelier above cast a warm glow on the dark wood of the room. His father, Henry Nightshade, the Duke of Kent, sat opposite him at a chessboard, his expression calm but focused.

Chess had always been their way of connecting. For Henry, it was more than a game—it was a way to sharpen Lucien's strategic mind, to teach him patience and discipline, the very traits that made their family one of the most powerful in England. But today, it wasn't just about the game; it was about something more profound.

"Checkmate," Lucien said softly, moving his queen into position.

Henry looked down at the board, his eyes scanning the pieces before him. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Well played," he murmured, leaning back in his chair. He studied Lucien for a moment, his blue eyes piercing, as if they could see beyond his son's physical presence and into the depths of his soul.

"You've been making headlines," Henry said finally, breaking the silence. "The football world is talking about you, and not just here in England. France, Spain, Italy—they're all curious about this young Earl of St. Andrews who's taking the game by storm."

Lucien nodded, but his expression remained neutral. "I'm just getting started."

Henry's smile widened slightly. "So modest," he mused. "But you understand what this means, don't you? Your rise in football is going to open doors—and close others. Our family has always thrived in the shadows, operating behind the scenes. But now, with your fame, that changes."

Lucien knew exactly what his father meant. The Nightshade family had built its wealth and influence quietly, avoiding the limelight, preferring to pull strings from behind the curtain. But now, with Lucien's name being plastered across newspapers and television screens, their anonymity was fading.

"I'm prepared for that," Lucien said, his voice steady. "I know what's at stake."

Henry leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table, his fingers steepled. "Good. But I want you to understand something, Lucien. You're not just a footballer. You're the future of our family. The decisions you make will have ripple effects far beyond the pitch."

Lucien's gaze never wavered. "I know. And I'll handle it."

Henry studied him for a moment longer, then nodded in approval. "Very well. Just remember—every move you make, on and off the field, is part of a much larger game."

A New Challenge

Lucien left the study, his mind racing with thoughts of what his father had said. His fame was growing faster than he had anticipated, and with it came a new level of scrutiny. He knew that every decision, every move he made, would be analyzed and dissected by the media, by rival clubs, and by the people around him.

But that was the price of greatness, wasn't it? To reach the top, you had to accept the sacrifices that came with it. Lucien had been ready for this ever since he woke up in this new life. He had one goal: to become the greatest footballer the world had ever seen, and he wouldn't let anything stand in his way.

The next day, Lucien arrived at Fulham's training ground, his mind already focused on the upcoming match against Aston Villa. This was going to be a pivotal game—his chance to show the senior team what he could do, to solidify his place in the starting lineup.

As he walked onto the pitch, he noticed the senior players watching him more closely than usual. They had heard the rumors, seen the headlines, and now they were curious. Could this 15-year-old really be as good as everyone said?

Lucien was determined to show them he was even better.

Training With the Seniors

Tony Williams had decided to mix things up today. Instead of the usual drills, he had organized a full-scale scrimmage—senior team versus the academy players. Lucien, as captain of the U21s, was placed in charge of leading the youth side.

As they lined up, Lucien's eyes scanned the senior team. Craig Harris, the veteran defender who had clashed with him in the last session, stood at the heart of their defense, his expression cold and calculating. He was clearly still bitter about being humiliated by a teenager, and Lucien knew he'd be looking for revenge.

The whistle blew, and the game began at a frantic pace. Lucien immediately took control of the midfield, orchestrating the play with the precision of a chess grandmaster. His teammates looked to him for guidance, trusting him to lead them against their more experienced opponents.

Within the first 15 minutes, Lucien had already made his mark. He danced around defenders with ease, his close ball control and dribbling skills leaving them in his wake. His vision and passing were exceptional, threading the ball through tight spaces and setting up his teammates for chances on goal.

But Harris wasn't going to let him run the show without a fight. As Lucien dribbled past two midfielders, Harris stepped in, delivering a crunching tackle that sent Lucien sprawling to the ground.

The whistle blew for a foul, but Harris leaned down over Lucien, his voice low and threatening. "Not so fast this time, kid."

Lucien looked up at him, his eyes cold and unflinching. "You'll have to do better than that," he said calmly, pulling himself to his feet.

The game resumed, and Lucien continued to dominate. His football IQ, coupled with the skills of Maradona, Zidane, and Ronaldinho, made him nearly unstoppable. He was everywhere—tracking back to defend, breaking up plays, and then surging forward to launch devastating counter-attacks.

And then, in the 78th minute, it happened.

Lucien received the ball just inside the opposition half. Harris, along with two other defenders, rushed toward him, hoping to close him down. But Lucien had already anticipated their move. With a deft flick of his foot, he played a no-look pass between the defenders, splitting them wide open.

The ball landed perfectly at the feet of his teammate, who slotted it past the goalkeeper with ease.

The senior team stood in stunned silence. Harris, in particular, looked as though he had just been outsmarted in a game of chess—a game he thought he had control of.

Lucien didn't celebrate. He simply stood there, staring at Harris, his expression unreadable.

Aftermath

After the scrimmage, Tony Williams pulled Lucien aside.

"That was impressive," he said, his voice filled with a mixture of pride and disbelief. "You've got something special, Lucien. But you know this means the pressure's only going to get worse, right?"

Lucien nodded. "I'm ready for it."

Williams smiled, clapping him on the shoulder. "Good. Because you're going to need that confidence in the next few weeks. Aston Villa won't be easy, and the media are already circling."

As Lucien left the training ground, he checked his phone. Sure enough, there were dozens of notifications—tweets, articles, messages. But one stood out.

It was from Sophie.

"Nice game today, Merlin. Looks like you're still full of surprises."

Lucien smirked. Sophie had been watching, and somehow, her opinion mattered more than the headlines.

But as he put his phone away, his thoughts turned back to what really mattered—football. The world was watching, and Lucien Nightshade was only just beginning to make his move.

The Gambit

As Lucien walked home that evening, his mind drifted to the chessboard in his father's study. Every move he made on the football pitch, every decision off it, was part of a grander plan. Like a chess game, each action had consequences, and Lucien was playing for more than just trophies—he was playing for legacy.

He stopped for a moment, looking up at the darkening sky. In the distance, he could see the lights of Craven Cottage, Fulham's stadium, glowing faintly.

"The game has just begun," Lucien thought. And like any good strategist, he knew exactly what his next move would be.