Chapter 30: Gisella

Palace of the Centauri Throne: Kingdom of Karil

"Nicolas, please–"

"Propaganda!"

Ronin had been trying to calm the raging king for the past hour to no avail. Gisella had forgone any attempts to assuage the regent's temper the moment she entered, having been fetched by some terrified servant, to find the royal chambers in utter disarray. Glass littered the floor in a reflective spectacle of dazzling debris. Curtains hung half off their rods, torn and shredded, sliding onto the lush carpet below in a heap. The door was covered in dripping red wine as though the king had thrown the goblet at his Captain of the Guards upon his entrance. Gisella wasn't entirely uncertain that wasn't precisely what had happened. In any case, she was grateful the king had run out of wine to toss at people before she arrived.

"He dares to recruit my lords?" Nicolas repeated for the fifth time. Gisella leaned coolly against an armoire near the door, inspecting her fingernails so as not to justify the king's tantrum with a visible amount of interest. "My own noblemen! The gentry whom were half appointed by my father, who followed him until his death, who met with me, treated with me, hosted me in their homes my whole lives! And he dares to call them to his wretched cause."

"Would it not be prudent," Ronin started carefully, "to perhaps begin to consider publicly acknowledging the existence of magic as a remote possibility?"

For the first time in an hour, Nicolas had not interrupted the Captain. Gisella looked up in interest and found the king still for the first time since she had entered. Seething, wild eyed and tousled hair, but still.

"I did that," Nicolas snapped.

"To the nobility, yes," Ronin continued. "But to the public at large–"

"The public which my father told years ago magic had been eliminated, stripped from the country entirely by him and his generals."

"I admit that it may not have the best optics."

"Optics! He hung some of them for heresy for saying magic even existed! And you want me to go to them now, after all that my family has done, and just say what? 'Whoops, our bad. Turns out it's harder to get rid of than we thought. Oh, and by the way, a force of it, the likes of which this world has never seen, might be out to get us since we went and made ourselves the single greatest threat to its existence. Right, and my uncle is recruiting them!'"

With that, Nicolas whirled around and gave his nightstand a kick. The wood splintered with an ear-splitting crack and Ronin closed his eyes and sighed. Gisella couldn't help but roll her eyes and shake her head. Unfortunately, the king noticed.

"You have something to say, spy?" he spat, speaking her title as if it were a slur.

"You speak of the public as if they have no mind of their own," she said, pushing off of the armoire and standing before him, arms crossed. "As if they sit in their homes just waiting for kings and lords to tell them what to think. Do you really believe that it exists out there and not in here?"

Nicolas stared at her, dumbfounded and furious. Gisella knew she was treading on dangerous ground but someone had to pull this former princling's head out of his ass.

"It's here, Nicolas. It always has been. Your father could no more eradicate it than the Idorians can control it. The people live among it. The people know it's there and every moment you spend telling them otherwise is a little bit farther you drive them away from you. Instead of denying it, instead of ignoring it, you could choose to use it."

Ronin's gaze snapped to her. Careful, Gisella, it seemed to say. She knew. She was being cautious. But desperate times called for desperate measures and she was feeling more and more desperate as of late.

"What do you mean?" Nicolas asked, eyes narrowed.

"If your uncle has a magic army, you should too."

The room fell silent for the first time in hours, since Nicolas had first heard about one of his coastal lords pledging his allegiance to Halvor and fleeing across the sea. The king gaped at her, equal parts shocked and horrified. Ronin said nothing but watched the both of them very carefully.

"They are not here," Nicolas said finally, slowly as if trying to convince himself, as if reverting to the lies of his father would help him find comfort in this new world. "The Magi were hunted to extinction in Karil decades ago."

"Your father dropped dead upon his own dais from no visible weapon detectible to the naked eye," Gisella reminded him. "Your soldiers, the survivors from the Battle at Towering Hills, came home with tales of a man who shot fire from his palms, a girl who called lightning like a whip in her hands, eerie winds and unexplainable earthquakes that only struck Karilish tents. And still, you doubt?"

"Perhaps your father's attempted eradication sent them underground," Ronin tried, choosing a less accusatory path. "Maybe they are emerging now, hoping you are more tolerable to–"

"You're agreeing with this preposterous plan?" Nicolas snapped, turning his glare upon his Captain.

"I'm trained in the art of war, Sire. And in war, you never leave a strategic advantage to your enemy that you can have yourself."

Nicolas frowned, watching both of them for a moment, considering. After a few minutes, he rubbed his face with a hand and sighed.

"How would we even recruit them?" he asked.

"Leave that to us," Ronin said seriously and then made his way to the door. Gisella took the hint and followed after him.

With a new mission she could hardly believe her luck at having stumbled her way into, she separated from the Captain who was muttering about the impossibility of finding Magi who undoubtedly would have reservations about coming forward, and headed down the hall for her favorite exit.

Gisella was practically bouncing on her toes. She could hardly believe how easy it had been to convince him. She had thought of nothing but that strange woman that had approached her at the king's coronation since their strange encounter, the threat that she had issued and Gisella had chosen to ignore thus far. She hadn't gone to the Rising Star. She hadn't met with the woman or her group. Gisella had spent years of her life denying the part of her which connected her to them even existed. She had carved out a home for herself in the kingdom of Karil. She wasn't interested in putting it all at risk because of some vague threat from a woman she had never even seen before. But she was curious. And now Nicolas, without even knowing, had given her license to sate that curiosity.

She was excited, to say the least. The possibility of finally learning more about the power she had kept hidden all her life was too delicious to resist. But she still had to be careful. So she had decided to use her secret exit from the palace so as not to be seen by any overzealous guards or gossiping nobility. Unfortunately, she had forgotten one vital bit of information. There was only one person in this entire kingdom who knew this castle as well as, if not better than, her. And he stood in front of her secret exit now, arms crossed and brow furrowed.

"Nicolas," Gisella spoke a cold greeting as she approached him, refusing to satisfy him with a show of surprise at his presence.

"I knew you had something planned," he growled. "All that nonsense about harnessing this power, about using these people. You know something. You always have."

Gisella was more shaken by his words than she cared to admit but outwardly, she only gave him a shrug and made her way past him to the door.

"I'm a spy, remember?" she asked, doing her best to keep her tone level and calm. "Acting upon information I acquire is within my job description."

"I'm coming with you."

She paused, halfway through the threshold.

"No," she said simply.

"I am your king," he reminded her, puffing out his chest and frowning. "You do not tell your king no."

"It is too dangerous. Ronin would kill me if he knew–"

"Ronin isn't in charge here, either. I'll wear a disguise. I'll keep my distance. But if I'm going to issue orders based on the existence of Magi in my kingdom, I need to know they're really out there. I don't want to tell my people another lie."

Gisella's lips parted in surprise at that, the first display of shock she had given thus far. He didn't want to lie to his people? He was doing all of this, putting himself in harm's way, fact checking an issue that he spent his entire life believing to be false, because he wanted to be a better king? How could she possibly deny him, or Karil, that?

"Fine," she snapped. "Wear my cloak and stay away from me as soon as we reach the city."

He nodded furiously and snatched the cloak she tossed him out of the air, pulling it over his shoulders. It was far too small and looked ridiculous in the warm light of the palace sconces but it would be too dark in the world beyond for anyone to notice.

Luckily, Nicolas did not say another word on the way to the Rising Star. Nor did he question Gisella when she paused for a few moments outside of it to inspect the place for the best area for Nicolas to observe the proceedings while remaining hidden from view. There was an old dusty window in the back of the tavern that would do wonderfully. She positioned him there and then headed inside.

The tavern wasn't busy. Most weren't this time of night. She hadn't even been sure she would find the girl again, or that she would be meeting with her group this evening. But it was late at night and in the middle of a harvest. The only people in the tavern at this hour would be up to no good. And someone who threatened her in her own home seemed the sort that might apply to.

The barman, an elderly man with an eyepatch on his left eye, had just called out to her to ask if she needed anything when she spotted the girl from before.

The girl rose when she approached, a mischievous grin spreading across her lips.

"You came," she said simply.

"You didn't give me much of a choice," Gisella reminded her.

"This is the group. Small tonight but usually larger. Like the night I told you to come."

"I don't follow your orders."

"No, you follow the genocidal king's."

"That king is dead."

"So he is."

She looked Gisella up and down and returned to her seat. Gisella remained standing, always feeling more comfortable in a position in which she could easily draw her daggers if needed. None of the others spoke. Apparently, introductions were not something that were made in treasonous rebel meetings.

"I'm not here to join your ranks," Gisella said then, hoping to cut to the chase and not waste a moment longer than she needed to among potentially dangerous rebels with the king sitting in a bush just outside the window. "Not yet. But you approached me for a reason. I am assuming it is because you were wise enough to see that making change from within is much more meaningful than forcing change from without. Because you think King Nicolas might be more willing to lift the harsh laws which banish your people to the abyss that his father left behind."

A few of them looked at each other. Some seemed impressed by Gisella's ability to have reasoned that out herself.

"Yes, I have a position that often has the king's ear. But change from within takes time and I need to know we can trust each other if we're to work on such a venture. So I'll need three of you to accept jobs at the palace. The King has given me the approval to hire my own spies. I trust some of you are skilled at reconnaissance given how easily you've kept this movement in the shadows for so long?"

They looked around again. The girl who had first approached Gisella narrowed her gaze at her then.

"I'll go," a man raised his hand from the back. He was short and somewhat round, plain featured and unassuming. He would do well as a spy.

"Great," Gisella agreed. "Your name?"

"Fermo," he answered.

"Welcome, Fermo. You may report to the palace in the morning. Nine am sharp. Anyone else?"

Two more raised their hands at that. A couple. Fairly young, perhaps early twenties. The woman was slim and very pretty, her dark hair hung in wild ringlet curls around her shoulders. The man she sat beside was tall and lanky, blonde with freckles dotting his nose and cheeks.

"Nico and Iva, my lady," the man reported.

"Nico and Iva, welcome aboard. Same instructions as Fermo. I will have someone meet you there and bring you to me. I know you will have a duty to report to this group anything you learn. I expect you to. If we're going to pull this off, it will require all of us to work together, to trust each other to a certain extent, and to stop threatening one another."

Gisella turned her gaze to the woman who had first recruited her, giving her a quick glare before turning back to the broader group.

"Now, if you don't mind, I'm very busy and will need to be returning to the palace before anyone notices I'm gone and starts asking questions. If anyone has anything they wish to tell me or discuss with me, please pass it along through Fermo, Nico, or Iva."

With that, Gisella gave them all one last nod and left the tavern. She took a breath on the other side and frowned. There had been less of them than she had hoped and all of them ragtag and weary. It was difficult to believe that this could possibly be the group to help defend Karil against the Makana if it should come to it. Or that they might even be willing.

"You're a liar."

Gisella whirled around to find that the girl who had approached her in the palace before had come out of the tavern to accost her again. She saw Nicolas out of the corner of her eye. He had just started to emerge from behind the building but was backing away again now at the sight of the Magi joining Gisella on the street.

"Excuse me?" Gisella asked.

"How do we know that Fermo, Niko, and Iva will not come to harm in your service? Because of what they are?"

"Rebellions are about taking chances."

"You act as though the king is open to working with our people."

"Isn't that why you approached me? Isn't that what you heard in his coronation speech– what was your name again?"

"I never told you. But it's Maren. And I had a hope that it might be possible that he could someday see us as people. But I never expected his Spymaster to show up at the Rising Star only a week later and hire three of my people for some undisclosed reconnaissance missions."

"Reconnaissance missions are never disclosed," Gisella snapped back, smartly. "It's sort of their nature. You don't trust me, Maren. You don't trust the king or the system and I get it. You shouldn't. But you came to me because you're willing to take the risk to make a change. You have to hold onto that willingness if this even has a chance of working."

"The king is a drunken, womanizing fool."

Gisella bit back her grin. It was almost too much, knowing Nicolas was nearby, hearing this citizen spewing vitriol about him and unable to butt in to say otherwise.

"Agreed," Gisella answered, knowing it was true but also that it would irritate the man in the shadows. "But he's the king. And he isn't the one in charge of who joins his forces."

"You and the General are," Maren replied, raising a brow.

"Ronin is with me on this."

"Ah, because of the Chaos."

Gisella frowned. Perhaps this girl was smarter than she gave her credit for.

"Your new spies will be there in the morning," Maren said, already turning back for the tavern. "But don't think we won't be watching you just as closely as you're watching us."

Gisella ignored the chill that went through her at the rebel's words and turned down the dark street, headed back for the palace. A few strides into the journey, Nicolas joined at her side.

"Satisfied?" she grumbled.

"With how little you vet the spies you bring into my service? Not at all," Nicolas spat.

Gisella sighed and rolled her eyes and the pair of them did not say another word to each other until they had reentered the palace through the secret door they had left it from. Nicolas was already shedding the cloak and tossing it her way when he spoke again.

"By the way, we have royal visitors from Toura coming tomorrow evening," he said. "We are hosting a state dinner. By the look on your face, I can tell that Ronin did not discuss this with you as he was supposed to. Your spies will be expected, of course, but so will you."

Gisella's brows furrowed as she took her cloak from him.

"At a state dinner?" she asked, surprised.

"The King is a cad and his son even more so. You are a woman. Part of being a spy is performing in the art of seduction. Can you manage to put away that surly expression for an evening?"

Gisella bristled at that. But he didn't give her time to retort, marching away to his rooms without further discussion. She let out a groan of frustration, unsure of what bothered her more. His expectation that she would be willing to play the role of seductress or his doubt that she even could. Something about it made her so furious she marched straight to her room and told Sara to order her the most alluring dress the seamstress could make.

She wouldn't fail a mission. Especially this one.