I sneaked through the servants quarters before going downstairs to the hallway of the masters' bedrooms, trying to be as quiet and discreet as possible. I had taken off my white apron and was only in my black dress. I hoped that made me blend in with the dark a bit more. If anything happened, I'll use the same excuse and say I was looking for something I lost.

As my lantern wobbled and casted strange shadows on the walls and staircase, I felt myself grow gooseflesh. The wind outside also sounded especially loud.

I walked to Master Tobias's room, and when I was there, I knocked on his door.

The door opened, to my surprise—I was expecting a reply allowing me to enter the room—and then there was Master Tobias standing there in the dim room, only illuminated by a lonely set of yellow candles on his desk.

"Come in."

I didn't know how to feel that the whole situation was so disgraceful: a maid sneaking into a master's room in the middle of the night; an unmarried young girl and unmarried man together in a room in secret at night; breaking the first rule of the House of Beardsley.

"Come in, don't be scared." His tone was a bit gentler as he spoke now. He turned around to me, and looked at me.

He was calm and unbothered by the whole situation. His androgynous face was lax, his back straight, still dressed in a black vest and pants, not in his nightclothes yet.

He wasn't even prepared for bed, nor thinking about it.

He was ready for business.

I stepped into the room, then shakily closed the door behind me.

"Now that you're here, I want to ask—can you play chess?"

"Pardon me?" Was he simply going to ask me for a chess match? "Yes, but I don't think I'm very good at it."

He swept his hand towards the chair on his left, where a small chess table was. On it were two armies of black and white facing each other, eerily faceless despite the impending doom.

"Sit."

I nodded, held my head downcast and then walked to the table. I placed the lantern down by the floor carefully and tucked in my skirt before sitting down. The whole duration of it I was shaking, but I had already came so far.

Without any notice, Tobias sat across from me, crossed his legs, and then gestured for me to go.

"I'm not sure about playing chess in the night, in your room at night, sir—" I tried to say, but was cut off.

"I will tell you about the third, and most important thing." I frowned. "There's no harm in playing a game while speaking, is there?" At that, I became silent. I moved a pawn obediently. It was heavier than I thought.

"Do you know about the current situation of the household?" Master Tobias asked as we began playing.

"Situation?"

"Such as the matter of the inheritance."

"Oh." I thought about the talk we had downstairs, during introductions. "I only know that it is unsettled, sir."

"Yes, that's what everyone thinks."

I rose my head from the chessboard and looked at him, bewildered. He looked up too, meeting my eyes.

"I want to warn you beforehand—once you hear about it, you can probably never leave this cursed household until the situation is resolved. Which might be never."

My expression must've changed, because he brings his face closer.

"It's your choice—but I can't warn you that staying ignorant whilst being in this household is any better, neither."

"What do you mean?"

His eyes narrowed and he finally leaned back.

"How do the valets in this household seem to you?"

I thought of them. Phillip was mean, I didn't dislike Rudy or Holden, and Matthew seemed nice. Only Clifford, the timid one, and Harper, the young man, I didn't know about.

"I don't know—but they don't bother me, and go about with their business, so I don't dislike them, sir."

Tobias arched an eyebrow.

"You're a naive one."

I didn't reply.

"The valets in this household either try to manipulate their masters or manipulate the system so their master becomes the legal heir and thus they rise up in ranks."

I was confused.

"Then couldn't you masters, who have control of the household, easily fire them or do something?" I bit my lips, wondering if I was too ignorant. "I'm sorry—that was imprudent of me."

"Don't apologize." Master Tobias gestured to the chessboard, as I had stopped paying attention to it. "I want you to ask questions if you don't understand, and decide after careful consideration."

"Your question is a good one, but there are also things to consider. As of now, Mister Kupka is in charge of the firing and hiring, as that was our late Father's request. Mister Kupka understands the risks, but also sees the advantages: the children who have no idea about the importance of being the heir have someone helping them, and those who do understand—such as Silas and I—have allies."

His chesspiece clacked loudly against the board as he ate my third pawn. With reluctance, I moved my knight.

"I don't understand," I whispered. "What exactly is the problem then?" The knight wavered before eating his pawn. I took up his pawn—glossy like his hair—and rolled it between my fingers, studying the intricate design on even the simplest piece.

"Have you ever considered it strange, for a household that never accepts women to suddenly hire female maids?"

"Well, yes," I said cautiously, "but it can't possibly be bad, can it?" I thought of what Clo said and grew nervous again.

"I don't know if it's bad."

"What is it then?"

"It's so they can be our pawns."

Suddenly, another one of his chesspiece ate my knight.

"Watch out, Shuyan: you fall for my tricks too much." He looked at me, and gave a cold smile. "A knight is worth much more than a pawn, after all."

I didn't reply. However, the pawn in my hands did suddenly feel much smaller.

"What do you mean by that?" I found it hard to say the words. "That we are your pawns?"

"That's the thing you'll find out if you agree to work here until the very end."

"Until the heir is decided?" I felt queasy. "I don't know about this—not after what you said about us being pawns."

He held the knight—my knight—and held it in front of him and towards the desk, where the light was, and turned it around, inspecting each and every side of it.

"I don't necessarily mean it in a bad way, Shuyan. We all have different roles, you know."

"What do you mean?"

"Silas's new maid has agreed already."

"What?"

I couldn't believe it. Rhiannon has known about it already? And she was willing to be a pawn? Was that true?

If it was, that would explain her action tonight: why she believed me so easily and made Clo and Beth not come along.

"Her job is to help Silas, of course, and while your job would be helping me in a similar sense, it would also be to protect Eugene."

"Protect Master Eugene? Why?"

"Because he isn't fit for competition." Master Tobias looked up from the knight. "And I'm not only talking about his legs. Eugene is different from us—he had a life outside of Beardsley, and he doesn't live by the same values of us. Do you want to hear something interesting?"

I spoke for the first time without hesitation. "Yes."

"In the years before Father died, he would always ask us this enigmatic question: if one day the Beardsley House burned down, and there was no way to stop the fire and you could only choose to take one thing to bring with you, what would it be?

"So Silas, being Silas, of course, thought of it as a question used to determine the heir, would say some lie such as 'our great-grandfather's diary' or something—as though that man would risk his safety for anything." A dark look went over his face again, but then disappeared.

"And Augustin chose a photograph of our family and Valentin something similar: a photograph of him and his brother as babies. Elias said his favorite train set, and Olive said his sketchbook. However, do you know what Eugene said?" His brows furrowed. "He said something that none of us did."

"And what was that?"

"He said he would bring the people out. When Father said we were all outside, in safety, he said, 'Then the valets and other servants'. When Father said he couldn't take all of them, he said he'll take one person.

"At that time, we were still young and innocent—or should I say arrogant? Silas was upset he didn't think of it, so he smugly said, 'Saving one person won't make a difference', but you know how Eugene responded?"

He stopped playing altogether and looked at me. His eyes were shining—glistening, even, from both the candlelight and something I couldn't explain.

"No," I whispered. "What did he say?"

"He said this one phrase: 'It made a difference to that one.'"