[centre][h2]Sunvale, Kingdom of Xandria[/h2][/centre] [hr] It was a bright, cloudless day, a full four years ago. The young Anice Gracieux, heir to her family's power and fortune, was even younger: a shy, but cheery, six year old girl. She was not yet the heir at the time; that title still belonged to her aunt, Zoé Gracieux, her mother Victoria's elder sister. Anice's grandfather Frank had not yet passed away, and Zoé was the heir presumptive, residing in the House Gracieux seat of Fleur de Violette, assisting the aging Duke Frank in his twilight years. Anice lived with her parents in her father's seat, Sunvale, a castle perched on an island in southern Xandria. The island was owned by House Dustin, of whom her father, Trent Dustin, was Lord. House Dustin of Sunvale was a prominent family in Xandria, wealthy and well respected. Their island seat's ports were filled with merchant vessels and war-galleys alike, the masters of the Xandrian seas. Anice was not sure exactly what the Dustins did, but she knew it had something to do with grapes. Sunvale, and all of the rest of the island that Anice had ever seen, was practically overgrown with grapevines. It was as if the entire island was one huge garden, and this was much to Anice's liking. The warm weather of Sunvale, and the vineyard's pleasant scent, offered something pleasant for the young girl. A distraction, to draw her thoughts away from what went on in Sunvale underneath the warm sunshine and vibrant orchards. Anice's mother, Victoria Dustin, who would in four years be the imperious Duchess Victoria Gracieux, with eyes on the Imperial Throne, now had only one ambition: escape. Every night, far past Anice's bedtime, Victoria would enter her young daughter's bedroom, freshly bathed, but crying. Sometimes she would limp, and sometimes she would wear makeup over her face, to hide her wounds from her beloved daughter. Anice would almost always wake when her mother crawled into her bed, but rarely would she say anything, or even open her eyes. If ever she spoke or moved, it would be to whisper a soft goodnight, or hug Victoria more tightly. Anice didn't know why her mother visited her at night, always crying, but she thought she might be sick. She hoped she would feel better soon. Young Anice would have her wish on that fateful, cloudless day, the first in over six years whose night held no tears for Victoria. Lord Trent Dustin, Anice's father, had been drinking a lot of grapejuice all day. It was a special grapejuice, only for grownups, and Victoria had always told Anice she wouldn't be allowed to have any until she was older. Trent sometimes poured Anice a glass anyway, but it would always go to waste. Anice trusted her mother's judgement, and she was fine with drinking the same juice as the other children. Drinking all o the juice would sometimes make Trent very happy, but other times, if he drank too much, he would be very mad. Anice would always leave and hide in her room if that happened. Her Dad was always loud, but when he drank too much, he would be even louder, and sometimes storm down the halls of his own castle, stumbling over and breaking things, making a ruckus. This was the first time he'd ever gone to Anice's room in such a state. "Victoria!" he hollered to his wife angrily, as she pushed open the doors to his daughter's bedroom. He was shocked for a second, finding the room smaller than he remembered and all of the furniture out of order, but after a few moments he realized he'd stormed into the wrong room. His stupor was too strong for him to care, though, and Lord Trent decided he didn't talk to his daughter as much as he should. "You know, girl..." he began, sitting on Anice's bed next to her, and staring down at the floor. "You're six years old, now. Over five years your mother has had to make you a brother, and she can't. You want a brother, don't you Anice?" The young girl squirmed uncomfortably, scooting down her bed a little further from her drunken father. "Maybe a sister, daddy?" she asked, staring down at the same spot on the floor that her father seemed to be fixated on. Trent took a few seconds to reply, smacking his lips and grumbling before any words escaped. "Another girl wouldn't do me any good. If I died right now my brother's son would become the Lord, you know? I don't know how it works in Violette, but there's no such thing as a Lady her. There's never been a 'Lady of Sunvale', except for the wives of the Lords. So you..." Trent trailed off, turning suddenly to grab hold of his daughter, closing his hands around her small arms and pushering her down onto the bed. "You are completely useless to me." He released her left arm, only to use his hand to strike her, smashing a fist against the child's face. His ring cut into her cheek, leaving a gash that immediately started bleeding, heavily. Both of his hands were then around her neck, squeezing it, strangling the life out of his daughter. He spoke to her as she strangled her, glaring into her eyes, utterly enraged. She didn't hear all of what he said. She couldn't see or hear or even feel much of anything, except the wound on her cheek and the tightening around her neck. "You had a brother, you know. Or maybe the sister that you wanted. Probably more than one. And your mother, your fucking cunt of a mother, she killed them! She murdered my sons!" Suddenly, Anice could breathe again, but only slightly. Her father's hands had left her neck, and he had broken out into tears, collapsing onto the floor next to the bed. Anice felt like crying too, but she hurt too much to cry. Her father's screaming that attracted the attention of a small crowd of servants and guards outside, but they didn't dare open the door, for fear of their lives. It wasn't until Victoria arrived, having grown tired of waiting in Trent's bed, that she opened the door herself. The sight of her daughter, bloodied and gasping for air, sparked an instinct in her that sprung instantly. She grabbed a candelabra off of Anice's bedside table and smashed it over her husband's head, crushing his skill and killing him instantly. The guards did nothing to stop the Lady of Sunvale as she carried her barely conscious Anice out of the room and away. That was the last part Anice remembered. [hr] [centre][h2]Violette, Republic of Violette[/h2][/centre] [hr] "Anice?" "Anice?" "Hello?" The third word was accompanied by a gentle poke to her cousin's shoulder as Tsirine tried to get her attention. Her face showed an expression of confusion and concern. Was something wrong? She didn't normally just sit there staring. Tsirine knew all sorts of things that could be wrong, she'd looked through one of her mom's books on healing a few times and sometimes people's heads just stopped working and they died. The young red haired girl was about to go get her mother when Anice finally responded. "I'm sorry. I was looking out the window, and it was so sunny today. I'm okay." Gathering herself and moving her thoughts away from the past and into the present, Anice Graxieux returned her gaze to the chess board assembled before her. It was made of some sort of fancy glass from across the ocean, one side's pieces tinted violet and the other's tinted gold. She still didn't fully understand the game, but the sunlight from the window reflecting off the glass sure made it look pretty. Reaching forward, Anice grabbed a rook off of the board and moved the piece to the right, defending her King from Tsirine's Queen. She wasn't entirely sure if that was a legal move or not, but she trusted that Tsirine would tell her if it wasn't. She rubbed the scar on her cheek idly, waiting for her cousin to take her turn. Tsirine nodded, but her eyes lingered on her cousin's face for a long moment as if looking for any sign that there was really something wrong. She knew what had happened to Anice, she also knew she wasn't supposed to talk about it, her mom had been very clear with her. And if Anice said she was okay... She looked down then at the chessboard and frowned a bit as she took in the current boardstate and what her cousin had done. Then she reached out with a hand and pointed to the rook. "If you do that then I can do this," She picked up a knight and moved it over to put Anice's king in check again while also threatening the rook. "You always have to look for opportunities like that. And not just ways you can get my pieces trapped, but also how I can try to trap yours if you make a move." Tsirine nodded again as she tried to explain. "It's part of the fun, thinking ahead." Anice pouted, frowning slightly, not quite bored so much as disappointed in herself. "I don't like this game. It seems like there are so many different things that you can do, but none of them is the right thing. I don't know how my mother thinks moving around bits of glass is supposed to teach me how to rule. I bet she never played this when she was little, and now she's going to be Empress." "If Raltene wins the most support she will be Empress." Tsirine corrected instinctively. "That might not happen." She pointed to the chess board. "My dad said that chess was like life, you take the best possible move and try to guess what your opponent will do but you never know for sure and you should plan for everything. I bet even if she doesn't win she'll have a plan." Tsirine smiled then. "Don't be too hard on yourself, you are doing better than I did when I was first starting to play and you won't make the same mistake again." Determined not to lose, Anice carefully looked over every piece on the board, analyzing every move she could move and every move Tsirine could make after her. It seemed as though none of her king's soldiers could save him, though, and so the king had to save himself. Grabbing a hold of her king piece, Anice moved him out of the way of Tsirine's knight, and carefully ensured she hadn't trapped herself before releasing her hand. "Another part is making your opponent have as few options as possible." Tsirine spoke as she reached out to move her knight again, this time to take the rook she had set up with her previous move. "You only could move your king which meant I was guaranteed to be able to take your rook." Raising an eyebrow and sighing, Anice crossed her arms over her chest and grumbled. "Can we play this again sometime later? I'm tired of chess. Auntie Vel!" Anice turned away from the chess table and Tsirine and towards Velhara, sitting off in the far corner of the room. "Did your big sister ever play chess when she was little? Do you need to be good at chess to be a good ruler?" Velhara stirred from her chair, lifting her head up as she looked away from the book she was reading to smile over at her daughter and her neice. It was the expression she almost always seemed to wear. "Varminia always enjoyed those games. But you don't need to be good at them, a ruler must be more than just a planner. And if you aren't good at it, you find someone who is and have them help. I was always forgetting the rules, I think the only time I ever won was when she was sick and fell asleep while we were playing." She seemed to be waxing a bit nostalgic, thinking about her own childhood. Tsirine looked across the table at her cousin and said softly. "Okay. We can play something else if you want." Anice thought about all of the different games the two of them could play there in Fleur de Violette, and eventually had an idea. "I know!" She reached over, tagged Tsirine on the shoulder and ran away, laughing. "You're it!" And Tsirine scrambled up to her feet and chased after her cousin in a hurry. Velhara, still smiling returned to her book. --- [b][Collaboration between myself and [url=http://www.roleplayerguild.com/users/raptorman]Raptorman[/url]][/b]