𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧'𝐬 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐭 ♕From Beth the Eyes of Beth Harmon

XXIII - Mistakes

Episode 6

Adjournments

Part 3

Paris, 1967

Mistakes

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Here I was. In Paris, at the Hotel de Ville. Alone.

The building was gorgeous. Elegant curves, gold details and stone white pillars were a common theme. The chess boards were massive, nearly taking up the whole table. Everything seemed like a work of art. I felt like a doll living in an extravagant dollhouse.

But there was little time to focus on the finer things of the Parisian architecture.

I had my work cut out for me, and my head was in the right space to win against Borgov. I didn't want to mess that up. Thankfully, I was alone here, meaning no distractions. Thanks to Benny, and all that I had been through and prepared myself for in the past year, I was ready.

Nothing stood in my way. I was left to my own devices.

There would be one match a day for five days, and one day off for adjournments. They really didn't hesitate to organize the press conference right away. It was my first order of business to be taken care of, and besides the chess, I also prepared myself for the public and the press. I wasn't fifteen anymore. I learned how to act for the press. I walked in expecting the worst, including the gender based questions.

The five competitors and I sat on the stage as men in suits asked us questions. And Borgov was sitting right next to me. His wife translated his response in English, but I tried not to rely on her. If I wanted to understand the real, authentic Borgov down to the core, I had to understand him in his native language.

"Miss Harmon, what do you say to those in the chess federation who accuse you of being too glamorous to be a serious chess player?" A man with a booming voice said in the slightest of French accents.

"I would say that it's much easier to play chess without the burden of an Adam's apple." I said, my voice stern. Camera's clicked and flashed loudly from all corners of the room. A few of the men laughed, and a few slumped in their chairs at my response.

"So how are you feeling about your match with Alec Bergland?" The same reporter asked. I looked across the table to Bergland, who was sitting all the way at the other end, smiling at me sweetly, raising an eyebrow.

He was no doubt trying to take advantage of my gender by seducing me, as that's the second time he threw me a creepy smile. But nevertheless, I smiled back kindly, ignoring the gesture and acting like we were just two opponents, as that's exactly what we were.

"I'm looking forward to it."

"Does that mean you think you can beat him?"

"It means that I have to beat him."

"Miss Harmon, do you feel good about rematch with grandmaster Borgov?" Another reporter asked in a denser accent from somewhere in Europe.

"Very good. I slept on the plane so I arrived in Paris with no jet lag. I'm very well-rested." I said, a discreet smack in the face to Borgov, in reference to the conversation I overheard in the elevator in Mexico City. "At night I stay in my room and study Mr. Borgov's old games." I said with just a hint of fake admiration.