Checkmate on Rosewood

Escaping the biting garden chill, I decamped to the drawing room's low rosewood table to restore my evening poise. There sat an antique walnut chessboard, abandoned mid-game by some thoroughly amateur player. A haughty dark wooden king was smugly dominating the board, while the exquisite ivory queen had been relegated to the sidelines—an insult I took rather personally. Bracing my heels against the inlaid marquetry, I threw my weight against the heavy king until he toppled onto the felted board with a sharp clatter. Shoving the ivory queen into his vacated square, I restored proper majesty to the realm. A queen may be temporarily displaced, darling, but she is never outmatched.