The Knight and The Fox.

A Game Where No One Loses

Ingrid shut up, he loves you. Just do it.

She scolded herself, lying face first on the blue velvet loveseat. She shivered softly and decided better of idling around in the thin lace slip she wore. Her face dragged a pattern into the lighter side of the velvet as she lazily hauled herself off of the furniture. 

Straightening up, she flattened her attire and jogged to the closet where hung her limited wardrobe. It was all simple and practical, save for 3 dresses her mother-in-law had insisted she keep. Only one of which she liked. She owned very little of her own, but she also didn't find the need for anything else. That's just how she was, how she always would be.

She grabbed a soft robe and hastily tied it 'round her waist. She shivered again as she began warming up. Ingrid smiled as she buried her face into the soft fabric.

It smelled like him

Gathering herself again, she shut the closet doors and searched for her slippers. She found them quickly enough. They'd been where they always were but, in her nervousness and jitters, she had overlooked them multiple times.

She slipped her feet into the silk with a soft thud. She took a moment to appreciate the comfortable clothing she wore, it was a little concerning really. It almost felt wrong for her to have this.

No, she decided, Just be grateful.

She sighed contentedly and walked to the standing mirror. Her eyes widened when she got there and stared at herself.

She looked comfortable, yes, but from the top of the robe peeked the soft white lace of the slip. Her hair was down and, since it'd grown out some, it fell around her shoulders like a gentle golden waterfall. She realized she never would've even considered doing something like this 5, even 4 years ago. But, in the past few years, she'd married, loved, and been loved in return. She felt confident enough -comfortable enough- to take the risk and just- do it.

Her heart warmed gently. It sent a tingle through her spine, it was mixed with anxiety and excitement.

Finally, she nodded in determination and turned away. She marched to the door, took a deep breath, held the robe 'round her, and opened the door. The cold air of the corridor hit her like a slap to the face.

She walked, and walked...and walked.

Navigating is difficult when you live in a huge estate with 3 floors and try when it's dark, she concluded after walking into a suit of armor for the 3rd time.

A door opened and suddenly she found herself face to face with the Margravine.

The older woman said nothing. She looked Ingrid up and down and smiled, not rudely, just knowingly. She pointed down the hall and put up 4 fingers.

Ingrid put her hands flat against eachother and mouthed a silent 'thank you' before jogging in the direction she'd been given.

Arriving at the door, she straightened out her slip and caught her breath. She stared at the door for a long moment, questioning her descision last-minute.

Stop. Stop it now. Just do it, you have nothing to lose. He'll love you either way.

Just be his wife.

With a newfound motivation, she turned the handle softly, letting it click. The door pulled open easily enough.

She stepped in, closing the door behind her.

C'mon, you can do this.

Her figure leaned against the wooden door, her arms entangled behind her back as she stared at his back.