The world lives by chess, and chess lives by the world — for in its silent squares lies the reflection of our fate.
The boy smiled faintly to himself, sitting before the computer and rocking gently in his gaming chair.
On the screen — yet another victory. Outside, the evening was calm and hushed; inside, the soft aroma of herbal tea mixed with the sweetness of French macarons resting neatly on a porcelain plate.
"What a divinely harmonious taste… sweeter than any victory," he thought, taking a small bite and washing it down with a slow sip of tea.
His name was Angelo Nobell — a seventeen-year-old chess prodigy, winner of a major tournament in Zurich with a grand prize of five hundred thousand dollars.
"Angelo, sweetheart, I'm home! Are you here?"
A gentle female voice echoed from the hallway.
The door to his room stood slightly ajar. Hearing his mother's voice, he replied at once,
"Yeah, Mom, I'm here! Just give me a second — I'll come out."
He turned off the computer and stepped into the hallway, where the dearest person in his life awaited — his mother.
When Angelo saw her, he approached slowly, without a word, and wrapped his arms around her. He could feel her warmth, her tenderness, her heart beating softly against his chest.
For a brief moment, time itself seemed to stop.
When he finally let go, Maria Nobell — that was her name — smiled and asked gently,
"How was your day, my son?"
"Same as always, Mom. Played in a chess tournament… thought about the philosophy of the game," he answered lazily, his voice calm and distant.
"And how did it go? Are you improving?" she asked with genuine curiosity.
"Of course. I won again — six and a half points out of seven.
Though the prize wasn't as generous as the last one — just two thousand dollars," he said, a trace of melancholy in his tone.
"You're doing wonderfully, Angelo. It doesn't matter whether the prize is big or small. What matters is that you keep moving forward — and that makes me proud," she said warmly.
"Your words are honey to my ears and heart," he replied softly, then thought to himself:
"How I wish this moment could last forever…
But reality isn't a fairy tale with a happy ending, where the heavens and gods lend their aid to heroes.
It's the other way around — they only take, cruelly and without mercy."
"My friend invited me to this lovely patisserie today," Maria said, smiling. "I brought you a chocolate cake from there. I'm sure you'll love it."
She handed him a bag with delicate patterns. Angelo carried it to the kitchen and took out a small, elegant box.
On its lid shone the café's name — "Sweet Paradise" — adorned with an angel-shaped logo.
"My guardian angel has brought me a heavenly treat tonight. No matter what happened between us in the past, or what awaits us in the future — I'll protect her and care for her, just as she's always cared for me." he thought with a quiet smile as he set the kettle on the stove.