“Check.”

“Hm.”

“Check.”

“Hrm.”

“And checkmate.”

Akelarre looked up from her book on the history of Vale and its surrounding cities to stare across the library table. Salem was sitting across from her, leaning back in an upholstered armchair, a huge tome on her lap which she was reading with rapt attention.

Next to them was a chessboard, a Seer floating at one end and Mister Spider, Second of the Name, standing behind an emancipated row of white pieces.

“Were you even paying attention?” she asked as Mister Spider (Second of the Name) and the Seer started resetting the board.

“Enough to win, obviously,” Salem said. She turned a page.

Akelarre huffed, cheeks puffing out. She glanced over to the chess set, which had been reset in the meantime, and with a twitch of her mind Mister Spider (Second of the Name) pushed a pawn forwards with a knife-tipped limb.

“You’ll note that I have been playing games like these for quite some time,” Salem said as she continued reading. A black pawn moved towards the middle of the board.

“You make yourself sound old,” Akelarre said as she went back to her book. The click-click of pieces moving across the board was the only noise for a while.

“Akelarre, my dear, I am old,” Salem said. Her tome closed with a dull thump and she looked at Akelarre across the table. “And I hope to see you grow old too.”

“Can we even wrinkle?” she asked.

“That is not what I meant,” Salem--the woman that looked like she was no more than forty for the past millennia--said. “You died on your last excursion. And I would like to think that I am familiar enough with you to know that you’ll be heading out again.”

“I got better,” Akelarre said. She wasn’t reading any more, just staring at the words on the page. “But.. thanks for worrying.”

Salem made a dismissive noise. “Don’t be a fool. You’re a... friend. It’s normal that I be concerned. We have enemies, or at least I do, and you inherited them with nothing more than your appearance and abilities. There are fates worse than death. I wouldn’t wish them upon you.”

“But you’d save me, right?”

Salem paused in the act of placing her tome on the table. “I would.”

Akelarre grinned at her.

“Checkmate, by the way,” Salem said.

Akelarre’s head whipped to the board where she had, in fact, lost. “But I didn’t make any moves.”

“I acted for you. Don’t worry, I made to take only the most optimal moves from your position.”

“But I still lost?”

“You lost on the third move.” Salem made that little noise that meant she was laughing on the inside. “Perhaps a game of chance would suit you better?”

***

Akelarre ducked, her entire back bending until she was folded almost in half. It was an uncomfortable position to be in, Cinder knew, but it was enough to avoid Hazel’s fist.

The woman slapped a hand to the ground and kicked out at Hazel, both feet slamming into his chest. But Hazel was a big man and he had to outweigh Akelarre by an order of magnitude. She flipped backwards with the momentum of the blow, landed on the balls of her feet and shot towards Hazel again.

They exchanged blows for a while, Hazel’s speed unaffected by his size as he redirected Akelarre’s tiny fists and wove out of the path of her kicks.

It looked like a forgone conclusion. For all that Akelarre was impressively fast she was not as quick as Hazel, nor as strong.

Cinder had sparred with the man before, she knew how dangerous he was. She could only ever win if she went all out, and Akelarre didn’t seem to be doing the same.

So perhaps it was inevitable that Hazel found an opening in Akelarre’s assault and landed an open-palmed blow to her stomach that made the young woman fold in half and flop backwards to land gracelessly on the ground.

“Are you well?” Hazel asked.

Akelarre wheezed, her expression vacant as she stared up at the ceiling. But she lifted one hand and made a dismissive gesture before rolling onto her front and climbing back to her feet. “I can keep going,” she said.

“Your Aura is low,” Hazel admonished. “In situations like those it might be best to think of retreating rather than continue fighting.”

Akellare bit her lip and stared off to a point over Hazel’s shoulder, then she nodded. “Okay. In that case I’m going to shower. Thanks, Mister Hazel.”

Hazel, who was usually such a serious man, grinned as he placed both hands on his hips. “Think nothing of it, Miss Akelarre.”

Cinder watched the Grimm woman cross the training gym and slip into the locker room at the far back. Only when she was completely out of sight did she move into the gym.

Hazel was folding the mats they had trained on, but he paused when he saw her approaching. “Cinder,” he greeted.

“Hazel,” she returned. “How are you doing?”

His eyes narrowed a little but he nodded all the same. There was always something of a truce between the servants of Salem, an unspoken agreement not to step on each others toes. It did not mean that they enjoyed each other’s company.

“I’m well enough,” he said as he lifted a mat that weighed twice as much as she did one-handed. “How can I help you?”

“Can’t I just have a chat with a friend?” she asked. Crossing her arms, she leaned against the nearest wall and watched as Hazel moved another mat.

He snorted. “We are many things, Miss Cinder, but friends we are not. If you’re here to interrogate me, you might as well just leave.”

She rolled her eyes and shifted a strand of hair back, hooking it over her ear in a way that drew attention to her long neck and the exposed skin of her collar. Hazel followed the gesture, but didn’t react otherwise. “I thought you would be more subtle, Hazel,” she said.

“I can be perfectly subtle in the service of my queen. Unless you’re here on her behalf?” He eyed her up and down for a moment. “I thought not.”

“I’m just curious. Salem asked me to guard Akelarre during her next trip beyond the Grimmlands. It would make my life far easier if I knew some things about her.”

“You can ask,” he said as he placed the last mat on a pile, straightened his back, and wiped his brow.

Cinder’s smile could have flayed the flesh off a man. “How long have you known her?” she asked.

Sighing, Hazel started moving towards the far end of the gymnasium where some equipment had been shifted around. Obviously someone had been using it and had failed to put everything back in its proper place. “Not terribly long.”

“I see,” she said. And she did see. She saw that getting a straight answer was going to be like pulling teeth. “Do you happen to know where she came from? I never heard of her before.”

“Perhaps our queen did not see fit to tell you about her,” he said.

She grit her teeth and pushed herself off the wall to follow him. “Do you know if she’s... Salem’s?”

“We are all Salem’s, in the end.”

“You know what I meant.”

Hazel turned to face her, and were she any other woman she might have been cowed by the way he stood so tall above her. “I have a few things to take care of,” he said.

She had to move out of his path as he lumbered by. The glare she fixed on his back did not, unfortunately, light him on fire.

Cinder was going to have to find another source of answers. Akelarre was an unknown and unknowns were threats. Unknowns who acted so... close to Salem, Queen of the Grimm were even bigger threats.

“You have a lot of questions about me.”

Her breath hitched, but that was the only outward sign that Cinder allowed as she turned to face Akelarre.

The girl, the woman, was dressed in a loose shirt and sweatpants, her bare feet leaving wet traces on the floor behind her leading all the way over to the locker room and her hair plastered to the back of her head like the fur of a wet cat.

“I’ve known Hazel for a few months. More or less,” she said, her gaze drifting over to the door where Hazel had left. “I’m not sure where I came from, but Salem thinks that I was born a long, long time ago. And I’m pretty sure I’m not actually Salem’s daughter or anything, but that’s okay, because sometimes the family you choose is the best one.”

Cinder nodded slowly, her palms sweaty by her side. Akelarre had heard everything she’d asked Hazel. The how didn’t matter so much now, not compared to what Akelarre’s reaction to her information gathering would be.

“So,” Akelarre began, red eyes spearing into Cinder’s. “Why did you want to know all of that?”

“I was merely curious,” Cinder replied. “If I am to guard you, then wouldn’t it be best if I had an idea of what your history is like? At the very least, knowing about your personality would only help in the long run.”

Akelarre’s gaze never shifted and Cinder began to wonder if the girl had to blink. “Are you... jealous?” she asked.

“Jealous?”

“Ah, because you’ve been working so hard to get Salem’s attention and then I came along?” Akelarre didn’t wait for a reply; she just nodded as if it was all self-evident. “I see. I didn’t mean to steal Salem from you.”

“That’s not what’s happening,” Cinder said, a small smile touching her lips.

“Hrmm,” Akelarre said. “Do you need a hug?”

“Do I... no, I don’t need a hug,” Cinder scoffed.

“Are you sure? I could explain things to Salem for you. She could give you a hug instead.”

“I don’t need a hug,” Cinder repeated. Her foot tapped the ground and it was only then that she realised how petulant she sounded.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Akelarre said. The worst thing was how genuine it sounded.

Then she moved up to Cinder and two arms wrapped themselves around Cinder’s shoulders. She froze like a child in front of a charging Ursa, her entire body tensing up as Akelarre, who was just a little taller than her, leaned into Cinder and pulled her close.

She heard a gasp, and turning her head a little revealed that Emerald was standing by the door, eyes wide and hands over her mouth.

“Did she want to join in the hug too?” Akelarre asked.

Emerald’s eyes just widened further and a deep red blush crept up her neck and all the way to her ears. She spun on one heel and ran.

Cinder sighed. Whatever happened, she had the impression that life with Akelarre was going to be complicated.