A Bishop's Mantle

The duel between the pocket watch and the ebony pawn lingered in stalemate, so I recruited a third player from the dusty corner. A velvet jewelry ring-box lay gaping open like a velvet throne, its black satin split down the spine. Clasping the hinged lid with both claws, I levered it upright and dropped it straight over the overturned pawn's head. Snap. A sudden, solemn coronation. With a slow tilt of my cap, I leaned against the heavy silver watch, arms crossed, waiting for the velvet-clad monarch to accept my midday challenge. The ticking gears offered quiet consent.