Page 30 of Broken Princess

I rub my fingers over the back of the cool metal. “It’s gorgeous. Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“This mystery might be easier to uncover than the other one I’m working on.”

“What might that be, dear?”

“When we were going through dad’s things, I found a picture of a house I’ve never seen before. My mother says she doesn’t recognize it either. It was shoved in the back of an old photo album that we used to go through all the time.”

“And what’s so strange about that? I often come across things I don’t remember purchasing or collecting. Especially when I let them sit for a long time and never use them.”

“You don’t understand. My family, we’re sticklers for labeling pictures, and this one wasn’t. It’s old. Likereallyold. There are two words written on it that I thought was a location but there’s no date and nothing else to identify it.”

“Two words?”

“Camelot Court which doesn’t make sense. When I tried looking it up on the internet, all I came up with is the legend of King Arthur.” I shake my head, still upset that I’ve come up empty-handed. “I don’t think my dad was a fan of Arthurian legend. So, like I said, strange.”

She moves her pawn, then says, “Tell me a little more about your father. What was he like?”

Most people want to hear about Penn and what he did. She’s the first person who’s ever asked about my dad and what our lives were like before we met the step-disaster.

I tell her about some of my happiest memories growing up, and share that our family is scattered around the country and that my dad moved around a lot as a kid.

“In fact,” I say, moving my bishop. “He used to talk about an aunt that lived in one of these towns, and he always promised to bring us here for a visit. I think that’s why mom moved us here after things ended with Penn. She wanted to take us somewhere that had a connection to dad.”

“But the move isn’t what you imagined it would be?”

“No, because first off, all he said was Kingsley and as you know there’s about ten towns in a hundred-mile radius that start with that name. I’m not even sure which one of these cities he was talking about,” I say with a shrug. “Though, I guess I can rule out this one. He definitely never spent time here.”

“Is that right?”

“My dad was all about helping others. There’s no way in hell his favorite aunt was one of the beautiful people. They literally have money and greed where their hearts should be.” I grimace, realizing I’ve just insulted the woman who's paying for me to go to school. “No offense.”

“None taken. I agree with your assessment.”

“Pepper, I want you to know, I don’t think of you as one of them.”

“You should Jordanna, because Iam. The difference is, I recognize the deep-rooted problems festering under the surface of our privilege and entitlement, and I want to do something about it. Legacy and tradition are important, but I think it’s passed time to stop doing things a certain way just because that’s how ‘it’s always been done’.”

Pointing to the board she says, “Now stop stalling and make your move so I can beat you again.”

It’s not bragging, she beats me every time. Then she has me explain why I made the moves I did, before telling me why she made the moves she did. Each time she compares it to real life and each game, I get a little better.

When it’s time for me to leave, she has the Roff, the butler, bring me a book. “That book documents some of the best opening moves in the history of chess. I think it’ll help you.”

Today, she stands, walking me to the front door, and watches as I slip the compact into my purse. I’m already formulating ideas on where to start my research. “I promise I’ll take good care of this.”

“I’m sure you will.”

“Jordanna… Jordanna!”

“Huh?”

“Damn, girl, I’ve been calling your name for the last five minutes. What are you reading?”

“This article on specialty craftsman and jewelry companies from the late eighteen hundreds. Can you imagine a place that did full blown melting and smiting? I’m talking old world sword and guild shit? In fact, this company here,” I point to the screen. “Descended from a family line who were swords makers and blacksmiths.” Clicking another link, I say, “I had no idea this town was founded on such a rich history. I thought all the families hit it big in oil or the gold rush or something and then moved here and stole somebody’s land.”

“So did I.” Kassidy says, plopping down on the bed. “Move over.” She pulls the laptop from my hand and clicks through the article. “What got you on this tangent?”

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