Remember Me *Book 3 Of The Remember the Rules Series*

The Games You Played

(A/N I think this chapter might be entirely dialogue and a ridiculously long chess metaphor. Don't kill me please)

"So... Let the game begin?" Felix asked when we got back to the orphanage that evening.

I blinked at him. Grinned. Stretched up on my toes and patted his cheek. "Oh, sweetheart. The game's long since begun."

He bent down to eye level with me (I winced internally when I realized that my face barely reached the middle of his torso, christ) and flicked my forehead. "Don't get smart with me. You know what I mean. What's our first move?"

"Information. As much of it as we can get." I pushed his face away good-naturedly. "We don't make a move until I know what we're up against. It's the basic rule of any game, Felix. You know that."

Tommy listened to our conversation in confusion. "What game are you talking about?"

It seemed wrong for me to call it a revolution when it was a revenge mission, so I waved my hand vaguely. "This... whole thing."

"Is this a game to you?"

Felix placed a calming hand on his shoulder. "Not in the sense that you're thinking. It's not for fun."

"Oh, it's definitely for fun," I smirked. "But don't worry about it too much. We take games very seriously. You're just a gamepiece. You can't see the whole board, and you don't need to. It won't affect you."

"What she means," Felix said, flicking me again when Tommy looked both offended and relieved, "Is that there are factors in play that affect us and not you. She didn't mean to compare you to a pawn in a chess game."

"I didn't mean to," I agreed as I sat down on the floor in the front space, "Although it's not a bad comparison. If you're not too tired, I can try to explain it to you."

Tommy still looked as if he knew whether to be offended or not at his comparison to a chess piece, but he sat across from me with a nod. "I admit I've wondered what you're like when you're not... somewhat mad. Besides, after seeing you handle Sir Lancelot and Sir Kay like that, I certainly couldn't sleep."

"Please, don't encourage her," Felix said in mock exasperation, sitting down and completing the triangle.

"Oh, shush peasant." I waved my hand at him, the poster child for a haughty princess. "Back up a few inches, you two. I need some room here."

I magicked up a chess board on the floor in front of me. "I assume you know the basics of chess, Tommy?" He nodded. "Alright. For the sake of this, let's assume we're the white pieces."

"You seriously think in terms of chess?" Felix asked, eyebrow raised. "It doesn't really seem like your type of game."

"It's not," my expression darkened and I felt Rosalie cringe in pain. "It was Pietro's. It's just the best analogy for the situation."

He fell silent instantly, face filled with guilt. Tommy noticed, but didn't comment on it.

"Does that make King Arthur and his followers the black pieces?" he asked instead.

I turned my gaze back on him and fought the pained expression off of my face. "Yes and no. If I'm the queen, Felix is my rook."

"Why can't I be the knight?" Felix asked. He wasn't whining, just curious. I could see the gears turning in his head.

"Knights have very limited movement," I explained. "They can be useful, but one mistake with a knight can cost the game because those mistakes are easy to make and impossible to undo. Rooks are way easier to manipulate."