"Check mate." The sweet and teasing voice of a young girl resounded in the terrace.
Charles Louis Dion , Ciel's chess mentor, and the best chess grandmaster in the United Kingdom, stared at the chessboard with a blank expression. He stared at the pretty young lady in front of him with bloodshot eyes and raised his finger.
"Let's play one more time," Charles said. "One more, please?"
"Eh? I don't want to. Grandpa, you're no good at chess," Kate replied sweetly. "This is already our fourth match and you haven't won even one game."
'I-I'm no good at chess?' Charles questioned his sanity. He, the most revered chess grandmaster, not only in the U.K, but in the entire world, was told by a little girl that he was no good at chess.
If his colleagues were to hear what the girl had said they would have cheered and given her a thumbs up for her boldness. Fortunately, they were not there, or else Charles might have suffered a heart attack from depression.
