Darrian was horrible at chess.
He constantly tried to be on the offense, but Lantus' defense and strategy was too much for him. His little "army" turned to sand under his command. Pawns, rooks, knights... no matter how hard he tried to pick off Lantus' army, he just... couldn't. Before he knew it, he was in check. Growling under his breath, he moved another piece before he was in checkmate. Darrian looked down at his king. For some reason, he pictured it as himself, and the thought unnerved him. Glancing back up at Lantus, his brow furrowing, he spoke. [b]"I have no interest in choosing a bride so soon."[/b] he explained, taking the king in his fingers and looking at it. [b]"Why would I want a heir? It's just going to be a brat. A bundle of nonsense wailing for a nursing. Then comes the training, and then the watching. It's the watching you have to have to take seriously."[/b]
He expected Lantus to understand what he meant. His eyes watched him coolly. [b]"When the whelp grows to his teens, it's when you have to be careful. I felt the same way when Lucina was Exalt. I waited for so long for her to die. She was weak. I knew that I was going to do better than her. I was tempted to carry out the deed, but I didn't. What makes you think that the brat will be an angel?"[/b]
Darrian sighed in frustration as he lined up his pieces again. The pawns in the front, the king next to the queen. [b]"I know that there must be a heir to the throne. But what kind of woman is worthy of marrying me?"[/b]