Chapter 34: Gisella

Palace of the Centauri Throne: Kingdom of Karil

In any other circumstances, Gisella would have positively refused a dress. The big, sweeping ballgowns of the elite had never been to her taste. They came across as gaudy, tacky, and so unforgivably vain. But this one was exquisite. Made to her exact measurements, it tapered where other gowns flared and cinched where others smoothed. She smiled at herself in the mirror as Sara, wearing a similar grin on her own lips, piled her hair atop her head in a tantalizing mop of curls that took her most of the afternoon to wrestle into Gisella's usually straight hair.

The gown was a midnight blue, dipping low in the neck, nearly to her navel, so that her cleavage was on full display. It was backless, tied in a slinky halter around her neck, and hugged her curves perfectly as it trailed to the floor, the only break in fabric the long slit on her left side.

You don't think I can seduce a king? Gisella thought, eying her reflection with a smirk. You don't think I can tempt a prince? You'll see what true seduction looks like this evening, Nicolas.

At some point during her inspection of herself, someone must have knocked upon the door for Gisella could hear Sara speaking with them.

"The captain is here," Sara spoke after a moment and Gisella thanked her, stepping away from the mirror and toward the door.

"Nicolas sent me to brief you on–"

The words died on his tongue as Ronin's jaw dropped. His gaze lingered, drinking her in much longer than was strictly necessary as someone undoubtedly assigned as her command.

"Brief me on..." Gisella goaded, enjoying the Captain's speechless blinking as he continued to eye her from head to toe.

"Toura," he blurted, forcing himself to meet her gaze, his cheeks blossoming a pink most unfitting for the Captain of the Royal Karilish Guard. "Relations with Toura are tense. They may be made more so if you blunder this evening."

"Nicolas told me the king was a cad," Gisella said, stepping out into the hall and shutting the door behind her as they began to walk toward the king's personal dining hall

"He is," Ronin replied with a nod, making a concentrated effort to look at everything in the hall but her. "But he's a cad that's been caught. His most recent scandal happened only a few weeks ago. Part of his cycle of behavior is that he beds some woman who claims her fifteen minutes of fame by telling the world about it and then he remains fiercely loyal to his wife for a few months before the whole cycle repeats itself. Unfortunately for us, he is firmly mired in the fiercely loyal bit of the cycle, meaning that he will look at you but he won't act."

"Well, if I had known that–"

"But his son. Prince Nariman, cares little for politics. He will be looking for a distraction all evening. Be that distraction."

"I know how to seduce a man, Captain. I don't need lessons from you," Gisella snapped, not exactly certain why she was so irritated by the insinuation but irritated all the same.

They had reached the hall just outside of the king's private dining room. She marched toward the doors but Ronin reached out and grabbed her, spinning her around to face him. She opened her mouth to berate him for daring to touch her but the genuine concern in his eyes stopped the words before they left her mouth.

"Be careful, Gisella," he told her, eyes boring into hers with an intensity she hadn't expected. "Lust is not the prince's only sin."

With that, Ronin turned and walked off down the hall to enter through the other door, the one befitting the Captain of the Guard. Gisella stared after him for a moment, blinking, a chill running up her spine. Pushing the thought from her mind, she turned and squared her shoulders once before striding into the dining room with a luminous smile on her lips.

Ronin was right. Both the King of Toura and his son had eyes on her the moment she entered. She made her way to the table and located the spot marked with her name. Unsurprisingly, it was right next to the Prince.

Very subtle, Nicolas, Gisella thought with a roll of her eyes.

She sat across from a fellow councilmember at the center of the table. At the end was an empty chair, presumably for Nicolas. Next to him on either side were the king and queen of Toura. Beside the Queen sat a beautiful woman Gisella did not know but guessed, by virtue of similar appearances, she was the elder princess of Toura. Across from her and next to the king was her miniature, a girl barely thirteen years old who stared up at the glittering dining hall in abject fascination.

"Nariman," a male voice spoke suddenly to Gisella's right and she turned to find the prince giving her a dazzling smile and holding out his hand. "Prince of Toura. Forgive me but I don't remember seeing you on our last visit to Karil and I cannot imagine I would have forgotten."

He took a moment to ogle her so obviously it made her skin burn but she kept the placid smile on her face in spite of her disgust.

"Gisella," she introduced herself, holding up a hand which he kissed with slimy lips. "I'm new to the council. Accepted my role some time ago."

"And what role is that?"

"I hope you don't intend to bore me with politics all evening," she teased flirtatiously, expertly directing the conversation to safer subjects. He perked up immediately at her tone, a smirk on his lips as he leaned closer. "You seemed to be a man of more... compelling interests. I hope I'm not to be disappointed."

He whistled low at that, chuckling at her boldness as she ran a finger along his forearm.

"Excuse me, my lady," a serving girl interrupted and Gisella turned, irritated, to find the maid was leaning over to whisper in her ear so that the prince could not hear. "We cannot get the king to leave his rooms. He's– well, he's sent for quite a bit of ale and–"

Gisella held up a hand.

"Thank you," she said to the servant, casting a glance to the back of the room where Ronin stood, hearing the same message delivered by another servant. Their eyes locked for a moment before Gisella tore her gaze away to smile down at the prince as she rose from her seat. "If you don't mind, Prince Nariman, it seems I have something urgent to attend to before dinner begins. Save my seat?"

"Of course, Gisella," the Prince crooned and she flashed him one last conspiratorial grin before turning and walking towards the exit closest to the king's chambers.

The moment she passed through the doorway, her smile vanished, replaced by an annoyed scowl as she stormed through the halls toward Nicolas, the servant who delivered the message scurrying behind her like a timid mouse.

Gisella did not knock on the king's door when she reached it and his guards didn't ask her to. She stormed into the room to find Nicolas sitting on the bed, hair disheveled, one shoe in his hand, one on the ground in front of him. He was slumped over, staring at the carpet, as if he had begun getting ready for dinner and then decided in the midst of it that it simply wasn't worth the effort.

He looked up at her when she approached him and she could tell, from the glazed over look in his eyes, that he was drunk. His observation was much slower than the Captain's and he wasn't as generous with his show of surprise. Instead, he simply snorted and gestured vaguely in her direction with a lazy wave of his hand.

"Are you here to service your king?" he asked with another snort.

The lewd remark made Gisella grit her teeth so hard she feared they might break. But he was so drunk that she wasn't even certain he knew who she was. So she turned to the servant instead.

"Get the Captain," she snapped. "And coffee."

The servant nodded and rushed from the room.

"Look at you," Gisella barked, turning back to face the drunken king. "The entire Touran royalty out there and you're in here absolutely sloshed. You do know you can't navigate a difficult international conflict half gone on your shitty rum, don't you? I can't even believe–"

"You're the only one who talks to me like that," Nicolas interrupted.

Gisella looked up at him to find him watching her. Not with the disgust or annoyance he usually faced her with. Just interest, plain and simple. Somehow, it extinguished some part of her anger.

Gisella sighed, kneeling down in front of him and helping him into his boots.

"Perhaps that's the problem," she muttered.

Unexpectedly, he chuckled at that.

"You hate me," he said, as if amused by the thought, but there was a hint of sorrow underlying the observation. "My own spymaster hates me. Perhaps my uncle should rule."

"The chaos has burned entire towns to the ground at the orders of your uncle. He's tortured children, murdered thousands. You may not be a joy to be around. But you're not that," she said, tying the knots in his laces a bit tighter.

Nicolas leaned forward, drawing her gaze back to his.

"Whatever you were to my father," he said then, voice lowered to a whisper, "you don't have to be that now."

At first, she simply blinked back at him, confused. But then she realized what he was insinuating and leapt to her feet in shock. Is that what he had thought of her all along? That she was his own father's... his...

"I won't touch you like that," Nicolas continued, confirming her fears. "I mean, unless you want me to."

It was a reflex. She didn't even take the time to think about it. She just slapped him. The King of Karil, right in the face.

His eyes shot to hers.

"Gisella?" The Captain asked from behind them, concerned and just as surprised as the king.

Too angry to explain herself, Gisella turned on her heel and stormed from the room, leaving the stunned Captain, the drunk King, and any accusations of her being the former King's whore behind her.

As angry as she was, she had no choice but to return to the dining hall and her duty. Pausing a moment to collect herself just outside the doors, she squared her shoulders and set her lips into an intoxicating, determined smile. Then she entered the room once more.

As before, Nariman's eyes were upon her at once but, this time, the rest of the room was as well.

"His royal highness regrets the delay," she announced to the room of curious and slightly annoyed dignitaries and councilmen. "But requests that we begin our meal without waiting for him to join us."

"He will be joining us, won't he?" The King of Toura asked with a raised brow.

"Of course. Shortly."

Or I'll wring his neck myself.

Nariman wasted no time finding an excuse to touch her the moment she resumed her seat next to him. Leaning casually back in his chair, he draped an arm around her shoulder. She nearly gagged.

"So," he began, forcing a drawl that may have enticed another woman but to Gisella just sounded forced and desperate, "where were we?"

"You were about to tell me about yourself," she replied, grinning back at him, leaning over to feign interest.

"Ah yes, well, I'm the prince of Toura, as you know. My days are spent mostly in meetings of strategy and political discourse. Though, I assure you, I always find the time to have some fun. In fact..."

Gisella peered over the prince's shoulder to see that the servants were entering the hall with the first course. She spotted Freya among them, delivering a soup to one of her fellow council members. She breathed a sigh of relief knowing everything was in place. Freya would be here to eavesdrop on the royal members of Toura while Gisella focused on the prince and Leon was somewhere rifling through the visiting royals' rooms.

"... always loved hunting. Have you ever been?" The prince was still speaking.

"No. I would never want to hurt a living thing," Gisella lied smoothly, almost chuckling at the irony.

"That bit can be difficult, I'll admit. But the thrill of the chase is so consuming. It—"

This time, the prince broke off on his own as, across the hall, the doors were opening again. Both of them this time and by the soldiers stationed on the other side. That could only mean one thing. Tradition and manners dictated that Gisella stand for the occasion and so she did, along with her fellow council members. The royal family of Toura, however, did not. Tense relations indeed.

Nicolas strolled through the doors, spreading his arms wide in greeting and beaming at his visitors in a way that appeared remarkably sober. Captain Ronin followed quietly behind him, his eyes flicking to meet Gisella's as he turned, with a frown, and took up his post by the door.

"My apologies, King Etodu, Queen Udima," Nicolas spoke happily as he took his seat and gestured for the servants to begin bringing the next course. "You know how these things are. Someone always has some important cause to bring to your attention. I'm cursed to live a life of accidental tardiness I'm afraid. Princess Vuha, you look lovely as always. Princess Avi, how are your horses? I'm told you're the best rider in Toura."

The little princess beamed as her parents looked back at Nicolas with something akin to surprise. Gisella couldn't blame them. She was certain this wasn't the first time the Touran royal family had met Nicolas and she herself had never seen him so... dare she say, charming. He was a shining example of royal hospitality, laughing heartily with the king and queen, pulling the prince and princesses into the conversation at every opportunity, even involving a council member from time to time.

Not Gisella though. He didn't even glance her way. Not once the entire night.

And he kept pulling Nariman's attention away from her as well, sabotaging her efforts in the one assignment he had managed to give her for the evening. Frustrated and ignored as Nicolas and Nariman fell into conversation about hunting, a subject which she had already told the prince she had little experience with, she turned away from the party and caught Ronin's eye. The moment he glanced her way, she reached up and tugged on her ear. He pushed off of the wall and approached. No one even noticed, they were so enthralled in Nicolas' tale of the first bear he killed in the Karilish wilderness with Elric Hann.

"He seems better," Gisella muttered as Ronin approached and bent low to speak with her.

"The coffee helped," he told her. "Gisella, eventually we're going to have to talk about what happened. You know that right? He's the king. You can't just—"

"Pay the servants who saw him that way for their silence," she interrupted. "Karil isn't the only country with spies. If Toura is smart they'll have their own as well. They'll have brought them here. Servants like to gossip just as much as court ladies. A few coins tossed their way might ensure that gossip stays in the kitchens."

Ronin was nodding, committing her instructions to memory.

"Now, pretend you're telling me of some urgent business I need to attend to elsewhere," she said.

"Why?" Ronin asked.

"Because I can't very well seduce a man whose time the king is occupying," she growled.

Ronin looked from her to Nicolas and back.

"Very well," he said. "But make good use of the time."

"Always."

Then Gisella was standing, smiling down at the gathered party.

"If you'll excuse me," she announced to anyone who was listening. "I've some urgent business I must attend to. It was lovely to meet you all."

With that, she left the dining hall behind, off in search of Leon.

She found the boy rifling through the older Princess Vuha's things. It wasn't difficult to bypass the guards stationed outside the princess' door. Nicolas had arranged the royal family of Toura's rooms on the western side of the palace at Gisella's urging. There, one simply had to walk across the roof of the servants quarters and climb inside any of the various windows on that side. Certainly, the princess' guard had locked the windows but Gisella hadn't hired Leon for nothing. He was a skilled lockpick and she was certain, from the look of the scratched decaying wood holding the locking mechanism in place, he had made quick work of the royal family's windows.

"I don't think Princess Vuha keeps her secrets in her gowns," Gisella spoke, dusting herself off as she slithered into the room from the windowsill.

Leon whirled in surprise, orange taffeta in his hands.

"You never know with these highborn ladies," he scoffed, looking her up and down and wrinkling his nose. "What are you wearing?"

"Something seductive."

"Did it work?" He asked, going back to his work.

"It might have if Nicolas hadn't sabotaged the very mission he assigned me to."

"Well, while you're here, go through that jewelry box, will you?"

Gisella nodded and moved to the princess' vanity table, beginning a careful search for anything treasonous.

"I've already been through the king and queen's and the prince's," Leon said while they searched.

"And?"

"Nothing. The king is paying a monthly sum to some woman I've never heard of. Likely to care for some bastard child he managed to father. The prince has a curious case of medieval looking torture instruments stashed under his bed. All of it interesting, none of it politically relevant. I wouldn't befriend these people but I wouldn't fear them either."

Gisella nodded, pushing the lid off of a small box as Leon disappeared back inside the closet. She paused, looking down at a neatly kept pile of letters. She plucked up the first one and began to read. It was a love letter. They all were. Dozens of them tucked away and hidden. So the princess was having a secret affair. As Leon said, it was interesting but not relevant. Or so Gisella thought until she glimpsed the name at the bottom of one of them.

Bijan.

As in, Prince Bijan of Idoria. Her breath caught in her throat.

"Leon," she said and the boy was at her side in an instant.

"What is it?" He asked, eagerly. "What did you find?"

She held up the letter, waiting as he read it.

"Gross," he muttered. "Wait. Bijan. Is this—"

"He's the only one I know," Gisella said. Leon read the letter again as she paced across the room. "If Princess Vuha is in love with Prince Bijan, that means Toura has a link to Idoria. Which is not good news for Karil. The list of our potential allies is shrinking every day."

"The King and Captain should see this," Leon said, holding out the letter for Gisella to take. When she hesitated, he assured her. "There's half a hundred letters in here, at least. She won't notice one missing."

Gisella nodded and took the note, pocketing it within the folds of her dress.

"Keep looking," she said, heading back for the window. "Report back in the morning."

Leon nodded, already turning back to the box as Gisella hopped onto the window sill.

She made her way across the servant's roof and back to the ground before finding her hidden entrance and heading for her own room. She was so distracted by her thoughts of the Princess of Toura and Prince of Idoria when she entered her room and shut the door behind her that she didn't notice her own window was open until she felt the breeze.

A strong breeze, much out of character for the still night beyond, gusted through her window, carrying a slip of paper so intently that it was unmistakably magic. Stunned and glancing around to ensure no one else was witnessing this, she reached up and snatched the page from the air. Her fingers were trembling as she unfurled it. She hadn't seen magic used openly in Karil for as long as she could remember. Who would risk this? Who even could risk this?

But her fears were only to be compounded when she finally read what was written plainly on that strange piece of paper.

It's time you and I had a little talk, Gisella Verlice.

-The Chaos