Gisella’s heart was in her throat the next day. A meeting had been called with the members of her own troupe and the Farradorian court. There, they all stood before the King, his sons and the royal advisors as they were accused of evil intent towards the King himself.
Gisella felt anger inside of her as she stared at all the men, their silver bands glinted in the light, as they looked down on her. Was it not them who had stood and praised her and her troupe mere days before? Was it not them who had begged for an encore?
Now here they sat seething down at her and pointing their calloused fingers without any proof or reason to believe she or any one of her troupe was even capable of something like this.
“Perhaps you too,” Lois said to Malota, “have been fooled.”
“I beg your—”But he didn’t let her speak before he stood up and raised his voice.
“Perhaps it is not the working of the sum of you but a singular, tiny spy that has infested your ranks!”
