Rose Atwell Chess Novels & Stories

"Flora, inform the manager in the front yard that I have lost to Miss Miranda of the Croyso family, and the chess match ends here!" --- In Chess Room A. Seeing the game about to be lost, the player heard Flora's message and his expression changed. After a while, he said apologetically, "I’m sorry, sir. Our club master has admitted defeat, and the seven-colored glass bead has already been awarded to someone else. Therefore, this chess match ends here." Regret filled his heart. The challenger before him had unmatched chess skills, possibly capable of breaking the club master's unbeaten record. But now...

“I’ll be the Aristotle to your Plato. I’m prepared for my to begin with lesson.” She balanced the table. All but four pieces were on the board, lined up in flawless small columns. “Well, it’s all around securing the ruler. He’s this one and this is his queen.” He tuned in as she portrayed how each piece moved and what their limits were. “This is the knight. Of all the pieces, he and the ruler are my favorites.” “Why?”

A surprised look appeared in her eyes, but she forced herself to calm down as she called out to him, “Mr. Hoffman?” “Alright.” A hint of an emotion that was difficult to place was evident in his deep voice. Charles looked around him, and his eyes finally landed on a chessboard on the table. This chessboard differed from most other chessboards on the market as it was made from emerald. His elegant fingers moved against the chessboard, brushing against the scratches as he asked, “Does Mr. Shaw play chess?”

Their minds were locked in a battle, each move a testament to their skill and prowess in the game The chessboard was now a tapestry of intricate moves and calculated sacrifices. Eleanor had managed to secure an advantageous position, but Arthur fought back fiercely, refusing to yield easily. Finally, after a particularly audacious move, Eleanor's face lit up with triumph. "Checkmate." Arthur looked at the board in astonishment, a mixture of admiration and disbelief evident in his eyes. "Well played, Eleanor, beginners luck!" Eleanor beamed with satisfaction, her victory cementing her confidence. "Oh really beginner's luck is what you're going for?!"

Rose stepped in. Her first strikes were light, controlled, quick jabs to the body that landed with more force than they should have, each one placed precisely, each one taking something small that would add up quickly. They looked light, but Betty would feel them over time. A minute in the ring stretched when every second cost something. Betty dropped suddenly, sweeping for her legs. Rose anticipated it, let herself go with the motion just enough to sell it before shifting her weight, catching the movement, turning it, locking her arm around Betty’s neck as they hit the ground.

They were treated equally and fairly under Zen’s palm. Zen was too busy brooding about his poor performance when he heard the clinking of chess pieces on the board. Instead of resetting the board for a new game, the old knight carefully selected specific pieces and strategically scattered them all over the board. Staring at the troops of ten black pawns lined up at the borderline of the enemy territory, Sir Rowan passed Zen three white chess pieces — the rook, a horse and a pawn.