Vishta: The Queen of Steel

    "Checkmate."     The old man across me narrowed his eyes at the white Queen piece as though it had appeared out of nowhere on the checkered board. The Queen figure was made of wood, mottled by age and stained by careless hands. Nevertheless, it remained intimidating and elegant. Unrestricted. A warrior in her own right, protecting her king by killing another king if need be.     In a board game, not in real life.     "Come now, Old Zhu. We've been at it for hours. Is it that hard to accept defeat?"     "Hmm..." He casually took a long draw from his wooden tobacco pipe, humming as though he still had moves hidden in his long sleeves, never leaving his sight away from his own ambushed king piece.     Stubborn old fool.     Sighing, I leaned into the open window overlooking the shopping district, absentmindedly admiring the flow of traffic from the second floor of the inn. The sun was high in the mid-afternoon and the wind whipping around brought in the coolness from the mountains. It made me want to stretch and sleep my worries away. Especially when the plum trees were blooming, scattering their vibrant pink and white flowers all over the city.     I watched the main street below as Old Zhu took his time in delaying his inevitable loss. It was filled with busy people, ox and horse-drawn carts left small clouds of dust in their wake. Among them, it was easy to pick out who was rich and who was born a commoner. Bright colored silk for the people with money, sack clothes for the ones trying hard to live. A clear diversity, cruel. However, what mattered was they were both living together in peace.     "Beautiful, isn't it?" I asked no one in particular. Not the old man sitting across me nor the boy hiding above us, procrastinating on the roof or whatever a spy of my eldest sister does to entertain himself. He had not been subtle. For a long time. It proved he never had the intention of hiding his presence in the first place despite knowing I was aware.     "Indeed," Old Zhu said, but not enough to snatch my attention back to him. I doubt he was even looking at me. His mind and pride were busy raging whether to admit defeat and, perhaps, he was thinking about how to get away from it. "And you're lucky to be born in such a pristine palace, preserved from the centuries of change."     "I wasn't pertaining to that edifice, Lord Zhu." I looked over him, slightly peeved. "I was talking about the main streets. The traffic, the people and the colors brought out from these interactions. Like ants following their course of nature."     Old Zhu met my eyes, his salt and pepper brow arching. "I see."     "What?" I asked, imitating his expression. This was his trademark mannerism when he intended to size me up in ways other than board games.     The only entertainment I had when I'd been a child was playing chess and mind games in the barracks. Taught by a General who knew how to enjoy life like a child aside from being a pompous politician.     That had been years ago.     Now, Old Zhu was governing his dream inn, with a satisfied wife and married daughters. A tragedy for the Amganad Kingdom, losing a great General to old age and family nostalgia.     "Nothing." Old Zhu leaned back on his chair while drawing another long one from his pipe. "I'm just glad you can see the big picture from all the luxury and power you've been swimming in since birth. But..." He shook a gnarled finger at me. "Alas, you've failed to notice one important thing, the most wonderful part of life."     I almost snorted but my muscles did not let me. Years of practice in controlling my facial muscles and impulsive-tendencies from conveying my thoughts shaped my skill to mask my real expressions. I wouldn't really call it practice, more like forced punishment.     My eldest sister, Geviv, had had it with my inclination to burst out like a raging porcupine who got her nose flicked by a highly unpleasant lord of some land. I had been five then. She had grabbed me by the ear and threw me in the monastery to the monks and had said, "Pull out her tongue if this little beast don't learn how to keep her mouth shut or keep her demon in chains in front of important guests."     Effective. I'd learned, and realized how amazing the power of control was.     "Humor me," I said as I picked up the small cup on the table, twirled it around while looking for residue within the clear tea. "I am losing my wit by now, knowing I have dearly failed in some department in life."     Old Zhu shrugged, nonchalant. "You wear red and purple silk, my dear. You and your sisters dress like goddesses in storybooks, and all of you are graced with the trademark hair of Amganad royalty."     "Go on," I said, nodding in agreement. It was the flattering truth.     We, royal princesses, had to put a great deal of effort to look more beautiful and elegant than the noble-born ladies who thought they knew how to be royalty. Besides, natural beauty was utter ugliness in the eyes of the court.     It was a thing to look your very best or be damned by gossips that evolved into appalling myths only snake-faced women could weave. It was Heaven's gift that me and my five sisters were born with rare amethyst hair, which added to our assets wherein no noble-jealous-stricken lady could achieve.     "I can see why you alone, among your sisters, is the most incompetent when looking for a spouse. You'll never get a husband if you don't stick with your silk dresses, Vishta."     I blinked, appalled. "Come again?"     Currently, I was wearing the most common and unholy dress for a princess. A dull green tunic that fell to my knees and a white underskirt that reached my ankle, both were held by a blue sash to accentuate my waist. To say that my choice of dress was the reason for my wonderful single-life was a blow to my pride.     "Ah, was I too harsh? Forgive me, old age gets to me, you know."     "Barely," I said, rearranging my expression, smiling like a dainty daisy under the beautiful sunshine. "I was...", aghast, "I might have seen that coming from you if you've lived in the palace longer."     "Why don't I lend you an ear? It's so disappointing to see a wonderful woman like you wasting your youth this way. Why at twenty and one you still haven't found a man to cherish you?" He asked, kindly, as though I was really in need of ranting my woeful thoughts about myself being single. "Is the southern continent had a shortage of princes and lords in this vast land? That can't be right." He drew a douse from his pipe and exhaled through his mouth, puffing out white smoke that were swept by the gentle wind. "The Second Princess has been married for years now. Third Princess Yda seemed to have successfully snatched the second prince of Hanzu. Quite a feat I must say."     "I believe you should ask this question to my eldest sister Geviv, Old Zhu," I said, trying to be casual. "She's already twenty and nine, yet she refuses to marry despite being the famed beauty of Amganad."     "First Princess Geviv is a goddess! Goddesses do not need men in their lives. They are holy beings," Old Zhu replied with pride thick in his voice.     Of course. Nobody should wonder why she wasn't married whereas everybody should mind that the Fourth Princess was not going out there, waving her unmarried hand to all the princes in the south continent like a horny b***h.     "How nice for the eldest sister," I said, tasting bitter nectar in my tongue.     I glanced over the meandering streets and river channels, past the cluster of houses littered with plum trees, and towards the massive palace painted in red and gold. Its pillars were so humongous, they could be seen from here, half a mile away.     "Don't tell me you're still fascinated with that Second Prince of Migza?"     A pang of sadness hit me hard on the chest, gradually turning into an agonizing sting, as though someone poured vinegar on a freshly opened wound. Carefully, I placed the teacup on the table. If I kept hold of it, I might have spilled the tea with my notably shaking fingers.     "Vishta?" Old Zhu asked, wincing when he saw my mulling face as though he had been stabbed by it.     "Hmm..."     The prince of Migza.     The sly grin of a mischievous boy came to mind. 'Vishta,' he had called me with his strange accent. A voice, so soft and full of mystery as though he was about to say some unearthly secret. A poisonous and irritating voice that haunted me for years. A weakness that needed immediate purging.     I leaned back on the wooden chair, crossed my leg over the other, and stared outside the window. "You got me good there, Old Zhu." I watched as two children ran down the side of the street. One of them with a wooden sword was chasing the other boy who kept looking back with an alarmed yet excited expression on his face. "You see, there is a popular saying nowadays that hits close to the truth. 'A waiting heart knows when to change course when they are waiting on empty promises.'"     I realized I was spouting bitterly like a damsel sick at heart when Old Zhu reached out his wrinkled hand, resting it on top of mine. I looked into his fatherly eyes and smiled sadly for how much he cared.     "Don't worry, Old Zhu. A prince won't fit for someone like me."     "They wouldn't be able to swallow the fact that their wife would be smarter than they are," he replied, making me crack a large grin.     "Indeed," I said, "for I was born to be Queen."     "Right..." A monotonous voice intervened. "Sorry for the interruption, Princess, but you are being summoned by His Excellency."     Old Zhu and I looked over the window. A slim boy, wearing all black, was dangling like a bat with his feet hooked on the edge of the roof. His dark hair was tied in a bun and the bottom half of his face was hidden by a white mask.     "Kikuhara, a sore in the eyes as always. Let me tell you a common fact that children younger than your age already knows. A door, particularly the rectangle-shaped wood, was invented as a passage for people who wants to interrupt privacy."     Kikuhara stared back with a straight face. "I thought it was common knowledge that ladies at sixteen should have been married already."     "Which does not mean that a lady passed the marrying age can't be desirable in other ways." I fired back before downing the cool tea in one shot. I did not wait for Kikuhara's comeback and stood up with the grace of a drunkard. Old Zhu took his time standing up, not bothered at all, before bowing his head in my direction.     "Thank you for coming today, Vishta. I suppose I'll finish the game by myself."     "The honor is mine, Old Zhu. Thank you for humoring my whims," I said, planting a soft kiss on his wrinkled cheek. I had to tip-toe because of my short frame and Old Zhu's considerable height of six feet. "You've began to rust, Old Zhu. You think bringing up my spouseless record you could trick me into forgetting something? The queen got your king, just accept the flattering truth." With that, I gave him a cheeky smile before strutting out of the Bao Zhu Inn.