"Checkmate, I guess?"
Cedric smiled and slid his knight pawn toward the black king's pawn.
Margaretta, sitting across from him, sighed softly and shook her head in annoyance.
"I lost again. You're really good, Your Highness."
Cedric chuckled quietly, showing no particular joy at the compliment.
"Thank you. It's only natural. My daily opponent is my uncle, and he's very skilled at chess," he said modestly.
"Prime Minister Roswell, huh? No wonder you're so good," Margaretta said while rearranging the pieces. "Oh, right—I almost forgot. According to my spies in the southern region, Prince Aldric seems to be preparing something extraordinary. Be careful."
Her words caught Cedric off guard. He took a sip of his black coffee and crossed his legs before asking hesitantly, "Do you know what he's preparing?"
"No. Not yet. For some reason, the spies I placed there died before they could finish their reports," she replied coldly.
