Lovers' Gambit is the story of two people who are destined to be together, where every action is a step towards victory in the game of fate....a game of love and deceit. Unspoken consequences follow every call, forming a convoluted web of desires a...
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Two wanderers, each on their own journey through life, brought together by the unpredictable turns of fate along the winding paths of chance.
The early morning mist begins to lift, the street awakens with a gentle murmur. Cobblestones, polished by centuries of footsteps, echo the passage of time. The facades of Georgian townhouses, arrayed with wrought iron balconies and trailing ivy, stand sentinel under the soft glow of gas lamps.
The street comes alive with a ballet of activity. Shopkeepers raise awnings, revealing storefronts brimming with the promise of a new day. A butcher arranges crimson cuts in his window, while a baker gently places loaves into a century-old oven, filling the air with the scent of freshly baked bread.
Street lamps flickered and went off as she moved quickly through this particularly empty street of Marylebone, with the first light of the dawn seeping through the buildings. It was still very early and there were not many people around as well. She adjusted her coat and breathed in the crisp air as she walked down Baker Street, some of her black, shoulder-length hair flew loose from the braid at the back of her head.
She looked at the shops on this side of the road, the small French bakery with pastel green door, the Italian butcher shop with its fine chandeliers and colourful hams. But she couldn't spare a moment, at least not if she intended to grab a cup of coffee while on her way to the 8 AM class. With her steps slightly quicker, the sound of her boots echoed as she moved down the pavement.
And then she took a turn and stepped into the warm and inviting cafe, her eyes, that mirrored the subtle hue of captured drops of autumn sunlight scanned the cozy interior through frosty windows that were beginning to steam up in the chilly morning air. Her dark hair, swept back in a loose braid, framed a face marked by gentle contours and a faint smile playing on her lips. As she reached the counter, she slid her hand into her bag, the glint of a silver bracelet catching the soft glow of the cafe's lights. The silver of stars and clouds chimed softly with the soft tinkle of bells adorning the moon motifs.
"The usual, please," Meerab said, her voice soft yet husky, as though she had caught a cold or perhaps as if she had abruptly woken up and rushed through her errands to start her day. She raised her gaze from her wallet, revealing eyes that held a deepness of contemplation, briefly meeting the barista's eyes before flickering down to count out the exact change. The barista grinned in acknowledgment, swiftly preparing the soy latte that Meerab favored.
Within moments, the barista exchanged the cup for the money, and Meerab, with a small, grateful smile, cradled the warm latte in her cold hands, holding the warmth close.
She moved back into the street and had to be extra cautious because it was early morning and many people weren't around. Within a few minutes she had turned onto Portland Place, an imposing white building of the University of Westminster confronting her.
