Help! I Became A Guy In A BL Novel!-Chapter 195: Idiot Sandwich?

The chessboard sat between them on a low, ornately carved table, they had changed locations. Leon argued that the place sucked and they needed to move. Riven didn’t complain, he followed Leon.

Riven leaned back in his chair, a lazy smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "So, what do you say, your highness? Shall we play a game of royal strategy?"

Leon gave him a flat stare. "You do realise chess is not a game of luck."

Riven shrugged. "I know the rules. That’s enough to have fun."

Leon arched a brow. "It’s not meant to be fun."

"Everything is meant to be fun if you have the right mindset."

They began to set up the board. Leon’s movements were precise and methodical. Riven placed the pieces more haphazardly, though he copied Leon’s placement well enough.

"White goes first, right?" Riven asked.

Leon gave a tense nod.

"Then I’ll go with the horsie." Riven moved the knight forward boldly, grinning.

Leon’s mouth twitched. "Knight."

"Right. The horse knight."

Leon studied the board, then pushed a pawn forward with the kind of control that made it look more like a declaration of war than a simple opening move.

Riven tilted his head, humming. Then, after way too much consideration, he moved his bishop diagonally into an exposed position.

Leon blinked.

"You’re... Serious about this?" he asked. freeweɓnovel.cѳm

"When have I not been serious?" Riven replied solemnly.

"You just sacrificed a bishop. For nothing."

"She was stifling the king," Riven said. "Too judgmental."

Leon pinched the bridge of his nose. "I can’t tell if you’re joking or incompetent."

"Both," Riven said cheerfully.

Leon sighed. Within the next five moves, Riven managed to lose both his knights and one rook. He seemed unbothered. Leon, however, was not.

"Why are you smiling?" Leon snapped. "You’re losing horribly."

"I’m enjoying myself," Riven replied, leaning his chin on his palm. "Isn’t that the point?"

"No!" Leon snapped again. "You’re supposed to learn from the moves. Think ahead."

"Why think ahead when you can enjoy the now?"

Leon groaned. "Gods, you’re infuriating."

"Infuriatingly charming?" He tilted his head and let his ears droop cutely.

Leon stood up from his seat. "That’s it. I can’t watch this massacre."

"Oh come on," Riven said. "I was starting to think I almost had you."

Leon looked down at the board, then reluctantly sat back down. "I’ll show you. Once. So at least if you’re going to lose, you’ll understand why."

Riven’s smile faded slightly into something more attentive. "Alright. I’m listening."

Leon reset the board, more carefully this time, "Don’t go sacrificing your knights and bishops like a dumba- ahem, don’t do that."

Riven tried, though still made some awkward choices. Leon corrected them, then explained, pointing at the board.

"If you move this here, I can respond with this, which protects your flank. But if you’d gone there—" he gestured to another square—"you’d leave your king exposed."

Riven blinked. "That’s... A lot of layers."

Leon nodded. "It’s all prediction. Five moves ahead. You don’t just play your hand—you play mine too."

"Sounds exhausting," Riven muttered.

"It’s calculation," Leon said simply.

The words hung in the air for a moment. Riven studied him, then returned his gaze to the board.

"I see it," Riven murmured. "That need to control everything. You like it when the pieces do what they’re told."

Leon looked up sharply.

"I didn’t mean it badly," Riven said. "I’m just saying... I get it."

Leon frowned but didn’t respond.

Riven continued playing, following Leon’s instructions. His second game lasted longer, and while he still lost in the end, he didn’t look nearly as out of place.

"You’re a better teacher than I expected," Riven said lightly.

"You’re a worse student than I deserve," Leon retorted.

But the words were less barbed than usual. There was a flicker of something between them, of course, Leon would not admit to any of it.

Riven leaned forward, elbows on the table. "So, when you lost earlier... did it sting?"

Leon narrowed his eyes. "It was irritating."

"She was good."

"She humiliated me."

"Not really. You did that to yourself by underestimating her," Riven said casually.

Leon went still.

"Come on, I lost, but I’m still kicking." Riven explained.

Leon didn’t answer. But his silence said enough.

"I’m not mocking," Riven said, softer now. "I just think... If you learned to lose better, you might win more."

Leon stared at him, surprised.

"Not everything’s a war," Riven said. "Not everyone’s your enemy."

He stared at the black queen, recalling the moment Sahira had taken his king without a hint of mercy.

He sighed, tilting back in his chair.

He had rushed into that game with arrogance, hadn’t he? He hadn’t even stopped to consider that Sahira—the diplomat from the Black Panther tribe—might’ve been more than just a talker. He assumed he could win simply because he was him. Leon of the Golden Savannah.

Heir. Taught by the best tutors. What did a foreign woman know that he didn’t?

Apparently, a lot.

He shook his head. "It was a trap," he muttered to himself. "And I walked right into it."

He didn’t even blame her. She played the game well—on and off the board. He admired her for it, begrudgingly. What stung wasn’t just the loss, but how easily she read him.

Still... It wasn’t the worst humiliation he’d faced lately.

That honour went to Riven.

Riven had stripped away the layers of reverence and obedience Leon was used to. He treated him like a servant, mocked him, and ordered him around with a smile that never wavered. At first, Leon hated him for it. But now?

He was still irritated, yes—but... He’d grown thicker skin.

That much he did not mind admitting.

Leon walked through the long corridor that led to the main hall, his footsteps echoing against the polished stone floor.

Servants paused and bowed as he passed, but he didn’t notice them. His mind was elsewhere.

He was going to sign the contract.

Lowering the tariffs wouldn’t be a significant blow to the kingdom. That’s what he told himself.