Queen's Own Fool by Jane Yolen

this is my knight, and all those small ones are called pawns.”
    â€œAnd this piece?” I asked, pointing to the figure of a jester.
    â€œIt’s called Le Fou, the fool. There are two of them, and at the beginning of the game one of them stands in the square beside the king, the other beside the queen.” He looked up and smiled at me. “As you do with my dear Mary.”
    Instead of looking down at my shoes as madam had taught me, I smiled back.
    â€œIn some countries,” the duke put in, “that position is occupied by a bishop.” His voice was hard as ice. “I for one find that far more appropriate.”
    Aha! I thought. Now I begin to understand the game. I chose my next words very carefully.
    â€œI am one fool who knows better than to put myself in the bishop’s square, Your Grace.” I started to move away but the king grabbed my hand, holding me to the spot.
    â€œSince you have already taken the cardinal’s place here beside us now,” he said, “perhaps we should also let you take his pulpit for the mass.” He laughed at his own jest.
    I knew I was well out of my depths here. If I said one thing, I angered the duke, another I angered the king. Either way, I chanced drowning. The only hope I had was to be amusing and so anger no one. Think, Nicola, think!
    Then at last I had it. “I do not believe my governess would agree, Your Majesty. She would tell you that I know even less about religion than chess.”
    â€œIndeed,” Queen Mary said, coming to my rescue just in time, “Nicola confuses priests and presses, pious and pies. Do you not remember, Francis?”
    He laughed. “Oh, yes—that was quite a joke. Priests. Pies. And grease. We liked that a lot! Well, we cannot help you with religion, garden girl. That is Uncle Charles’s domain. But we can with chess. The pieces move like this.” The king demonstrated the movements of each in turn.
    Clearing his throat loudly, the duke said, “Girl, you will notice that the chess king can hardly move at all on the board.”
    I nodded.
    â€œThat is why he needs these others to protect him—a strong castle, a brave knight.”
    â€œAnd a fool,” I added, from the safety of the queen’s protection.
    â€œYes, even a fool,” the duke conceded at last. “Though the fool must always remember its place.” He smiled a grim smile.
    This time I looked down before asking, “Why is that, Your Grace?”
    â€œWell, since the fool moves along the diagonal, it may only move onto squares the same color as the one it began on. Half the board is barred to it. Any fool should beware moving onto squares where she is not allowed.”
    Again I thought carefully before answering. “Then I suppose a fool must choose that first square very carefully.”
    â€œBrava, Nicola!” the queen whispered.
    When I let out my breath, it was the first I realized I had been holding it.
    The duke lifted a finger and stroked his scar, then said as carefully back to me: “The fool has no say as to which square it is placed on.
    â€œNor do any of the others, Uncle,” the queen reminded him. “In that way, at least, they are all equal.”
    â€œIn that and in that alone,” the duke replied.
    â€œThen ... how do you win?” I asked.
    â€œYou win the game, child, by using your queen to capture the king,” said the duke with a slow smile. He moved his queen into position, looking very pleased with himself.
    The king scowled and leaned his cheek against his fist. “You have taken over the cardinal’s position, fool. What do you recommend?”
    â€œI think ... I think that as you are the king, you should make all of your pawns into knights,” I said.
    â€œThere’s an idea!” The king roared his approval, his homely face lighting up with his delight.
    â€œIt is not allowed under the rules,” said the duke