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Chapter 1: My Beloved Grandpa
My beloved grandpa died——
We met by chance in the royal capital’s public garden.
While I was taking a walk through the garden, I saw an old man sitting alone in a gazebo, staring seriously at a chessboard.
He had flipped the board around and was basically playing chess all by himself.
Sometimes he’d stare blankly at the scenery, then go back to playing alone again.
He looked so lonely that, before I realized it, I walked up, picked up a white pawn, and made the next move.
“Whaaat!? You made that move? Sit down, young lady!”
Instead of getting mad that a stranger had suddenly joined in, the old man smiled warmly and gestured to the bench across from him.
He ruffled his fluffy white hair as he agonized over his next move, finally making a weak one.
Then he lifted his mustache into a big grin, looking so smug that I couldn’t help but burst out laughing.
“Checkmate.”
“Wha—!? Wait, wait, wait… ah, no, I can’t win this, can I?”
“Hahaha!”
“Ugh… hey, do you have some time?”
When Grandpa called out toward the bushes behind the gazebo, a calm “Yes” came in reply.
Probably his bodyguard, I thought.
“All right then, let’s play another round! You have time, right, young lady?”
“I do. I accept your challenge.”
I didn’t think I was that good at chess, but maybe I’d gotten stronger from playing with my father—or maybe Grandpa was just that weak. I wasn’t sure.
The following week, like fate, Grandpa was there again playing lonely chess.
When our eyes met, he beckoned me over.
After that, we started meeting regularly at the gazebo on a set day each week, playing chess and chatting for about two hours.
“I really love playing chess with you, Emma.”
He said that with a bright, grandfatherly smile, elbows resting on the gazebo’s table.
“Eh, thank you.”
“So maybe you could go a little easier on me?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re so stingy, Emma!”
Grandpa naturally copied my casual, half-commoner way of speaking.
I’d guessed he was a noble of high rank—the quality of his clothes gave it away, and there were always guards hiding in the shadows nearby.
Two years passed since we first met.
By then, the black-haired guard who used to stay hidden behind the gazebo had started joining us.
His name, I learned, was Demetrio.
The three of us would sit in the gazebo, drink tea, and play chess together.
Even when Grandpa and Demetrio teamed up, I still crushed them every time.
“This move, right here!”
“You’ll lose your knight if you do that.”
“Too late! I’ll take this pawn!”
Ignoring Demetrio’s warning, Grandpa snatched my pawn with his rook.
“Ah, hey—!”
It wasn’t even a smart sacrifice move; the cost was too high.
At this point, no deep strategy was needed—the two of them were just hilariously bad.
They looked so much like a grandfather and grandson pair that just watching them was fun.
There were other guards, but only the black-haired one ever came to the gazebo.
“See? You lost that piece just like I said.”
“I thought it would work…”
“Ahaha! You two are way too weak!”
“Ugh… she’s laughing at us.”
Those peaceful, happy days went on.
One spring afternoon, as we yawned and said how sleepy the warm sunlight made us, Grandpa suddenly said:
“Lately, I’ve been feeling really sick, you know.”
“Eh…?”
I didn’t understand what he meant, so I glanced at Demetrio.
His face didn’t change, but a faint crease formed between his brows.
“Emma, here, take this.”
Coughing weakly, Grandpa handed me a plain white envelope—no name written on it—just passed it to me with a flick of his wrist.
