"By the Light," Gallahan whispered reverently, crossing himself. "She is a prodigy. She is a tactical messiah. She isn't just playing; she is conducting a symphony of psychological torture! She trapped his Mage and then took a sip of milk. The disrespect is staggering!"
"What are you two whispering about?" Sir Boris rumbled, bringing his warhorse over to join the huddle.
"The Lady is beating the Archduke at chess," Lucas reported grimly.
Boris's single eye widened. A feral, unhinged grin split his scarred face. "Truly?! Our little Mushroom is crushing the hedgehog?! I must witness this!"
For the remainder of the afternoon, the three legendary commanders of the Black Bastion abandoned their perimeter-defense protocols.
They rode their horses in a tight, inappropriate cluster directly beside the carriage window, taking turns peering through the gap in the velvet curtains, providing a hushed, fanatic play-by-play commentary of the carnage inside.
