"Certainly," replied Shakhmaty, clearly enchanted by Artemis' overtures. She gazed at the man who had just entered the room, who had insinuated that the only reason all of them were here was the aforementioned ten million dollars. Yes, she was here for the money, but she was also here for the party. 1911 had been a very hard year for her, as she struggled to play as best she could against masters that could beat her. Such was the life of a chess player who was near-phenomenal, but the operative word was near. Who knew what the New Year had in store for her? Only time would tell...
"Have you seen the Violet Room yet, good sir?" asked Henrietta. "That is your allotted lodging for the night." Henrietta bent over her steaming pots and pans. The other guests, reveling in the aroma of gourmet food, sighed contentedly. The hour was not so late, but six o'clock was fast approaching. The grandfather clock ticked steadily away.
In the Violet Room, a bottle of wine was waiting on the white wicker dresser, just for Corbin. It was a fine Merlot, of the late nineteenth century. Hopefully, this vintage would open up the mysterious guest that kept himself closed to the world. Someone certainly hoped so...but who? Faktor? Henrietta? Who else was there in this house?
Last edited by Tysyacha; 08-20-2009 at 10:42 PM.