In the shadowed council chamber of Fondeur Castle, Gelio stood before King Safris.
"According to the reports," Gelio began, his tone clipped but steady, "the losses are severe. The camp is in ruins. Milan and Kletus are putting everything back in order."
Safris leaned forward in his chair, his eyes narrowing. "Do we know what caused the fire?"
Gelio shook his head. "Not yet. All we know is that it began with a person—someone said they were covered in flames. Beyond that, the details are unclear Your Majesty. But our men are on their way to investigate. I expect Milan will have answers soon."
Safris exhaled through his nose, his voice tightening. "I only hope the death count among the legion isn't high. Now… speak to me about the other matter we discussed."
"The men know what to do," Gelio replied. "Agnus will be killed and his body will disappear. It's all in place. A soldier—one of Adames'—has been given detailed instructions. The troops will pass through the academy, and the soldier will join them there."
Safris' gaze turned cold. "I want no excuses. If anything goes wrong, I'll have every last one of them hanged."
"That wouldn't be wise Majesty," Gelio countered carefully. "If you execute soldiers over Agnus, you'll only draw attention to the matter. Whispers would spread, and your enemies would use it to tarnish your name."
Safris',silence said enough.
"It's necessary," the king said at last, his voice low. "I won't have my daughter deciding this young man is worth elevating."
Gelio kept his tone calm. "You lose nothing by letting him live. You could even send him away—far from the castle."
"Grecia rules in Galomé," Safris replied sharply. "That's enough to bring him back if needed."
"With your permission Majesty," Gelio persisted, "a friendship with this man would do your daughters no harm."
Safris' eyes hardened. "I trust my instincts. The boy must die."
Gelio fell silent.
Safris shifted in his chair. "Any news from Rome?"
"The emperor is near death," Gelio reported. "If he dies in the coming days, Brutus will take the throne. With no male heirs, Brutus will likely seek to marry one of the daughters to claim the title of Emperor. That decision lies with the Vatican—but knowing Brutus, he'll move to destroy Christianity and strike at the Church's orders."
Safris gave a thin smile. "Brutus is the right man for the job—and he's our friend. Otis, too. Still, I have no doubt this will bring us trouble."
"Of course Majesty," Gelio said. "But Freíd still holds the Vatican's right hand and insists your kingdom is overflowing with reasons to cut ties with Rome."
"That fool makes my life impossible," Safris muttered.
"Don't worry," Gelio assured him. "We're working on it. He's agreed to come to Greece for a private talk. That's a promising sign."
Safris' voice dripped with contempt. "Freíd should be the Pope—he treats the so-called Holy Father like a puppet."
"Freíd has his own genius, Majesty," Gelio replied cautiously. "And far too many connections. He's dangerous at his age."
Safris abruptly changed course. "The monk in Galomé?"
"Milan will visit him," Gelio said. "For now, the messengers report he's keeping to his routine."
"Cesarus knows this kingdom better than most," Safris warned. "Change the guards."
"It will be done," Gelio said, then hesitated. "But there's the matter of Grecia. She keeps sending for him—and visiting him herself."
"That's to be expected," Safris replied. "Her mother was his dearest friend. It's out of my hands. I opposed sending her to Galomé a thousand times, but I must keep her occupied somehow. And I respect the monk—he stood with me in my darkest hours. That's why I granted him residence there. Besides, he's an old ally of Old Greece."
A messenger entered quietly and handed a sealed letter to Gelio. He broke the wax, read briefly, and turned to the king.
"The legions your father entrusted are scattered," Gelio explained. "Our men spread the word that you are their rightful king. Grecia has no claim to use them; they are yours Majesty. She won't find out—everything appears as if nothing happened."
"Good," Safris said. "Tell Milan we need reinforcements. Use that as the excuse to keep them there."
Gelio allowed himself a small smile. "On another note—Marcus is on expedition near Protis. They say the rebel Octavian has returned to Protis."
Safris' eyes darkened. "Then let his head be my gift when I come of age. Send word to Marcus—that's his top priority. That criminal has robbed us, killed our people, and poisoned the loyalty of Fondeur."
"Octavian is a ghost," Gelio said, "but one day he'll be caught in his own trap. Time is on our side."
"You embarrass me Gelio," Safris snapped. "He's still out there, killing, touching every clan. Esparza shields him—it's obvious they're protecting him."
"Sagraria doesn't have the strength to protect a fugitive," Gelio replied. "It's the people around her. But without a clear report, we can't be certain."
"Then hire other spies," Safris ordered.
"You can't execute Sagraria on a rumor," Gelio warned. "The people love her for keeping her clan in the hands of her heirs. Even if you wanted her dead, you have no grounds."
"If she lives," Safris said coldly, "the thought of my death will live with her. I need a reason to make the world see that ending them all, was the right choice."
Gelio bowed his head in reluctant agreement. For a few seconds, neither man spoke. Safris knew his minister too well.
"Anything else?" the king asked.
"The princess Gigna," Gelio said carefully.
Safris groaned as if the topic bored him. "Go on."
"I'm concerned for her well-being," Gelio said. "Her nightly excursions from the castle have increased. Her behavior is… reckless. There are whispers about dangerous liaisons—diseases. We've silenced anyone who recognized her or could speak of it."
Safris' eyes narrowed. "Are these whispers—or truth?"
"Unfortunately… truth, Majesty."
Gelio paused before adding, "And there are rumors she's had several miscarriages again. If true, it could do her serious harm. But I'm no physician—I've only heard that such things can damage the body."
"I'll speak to her," Safris said, though his tone lacked conviction. "But Gigna is wild.."
Gelio offered a reassuring smile. "With respect, Majesty, I've known the princess since she was a child. Her mind is sound."
"Don't try to fool me, Gelio," Safris said. "She's a mystery—and that mystery could destroy us."
"Then send her away," Gelio suggested. "Perhaps to Grecia, in Galomé. She listens to Grecia."
"She listens to herself," Safris muttered. "But very well."
Safris eyed Gelio shrewdly. "I see we'll be here all night."
Gelio inclined his head. "Forgive me, Majesty, but you must meet with your senators. It's been months. Best to do it in the coming days."
"Fine. Make it happen."
The meeting ended, and the king departed.
Later, in the torchlit corridors of the palace, Gelio walked alongside Socrates.
"You sent for me?" Socrates asked.
Gelio studied him up and down. "If not for your looks and the way you speak, you'd have been a great man by now. The king trusts you—but your appearance does you no favors. Not that I blame you; nature is at fault."
"I'm grateful for the trust," Socrates said, "and I'm loyal."
"Then be loyal enough to handle Gigna," Gelio replied. "I can't protect you—it's your responsibility."
"Don't worry," Socrates said evenly. "I'll find a way."
"That's what I like to hear," Gelio said. "I know it's a hard task—you're just following orders."
"My knees ache with every step," Socrates admitted. "Remedis will accompany her instead."
Gelio's expression hardened. "Then find yourself new knees. I don't trust anyone else, and you know it. You've been denied a thousand times, and you'll still be her escort. For God's sake, Socrates, lose weight—change yourself so people see you as normal."
"It's not that simple," Socrates said. "She chose me. I had no say in it."
They stopped. Gelio stepped closer. "You've always been frank with me. The recent miscarriages—"
"There's a woman who makes remedies," Socrates interrupted. "Gigna says aborting is like a simple stomachache—only with blood, like the change of the moon."
"We need to save her from herself," Gelio said sharply. "She's rotting inside and refuses to see the danger. Silence that woman—it's too dangerous."
"Don't worry," Socrates said. "I pay her well, and I've threatened her. Better that it's only one person."
"The king agrees with sending her to Grecia," Gelio said.
Socrates gave a dry smile. "Changing the city changes nothing. You'll be creating more people to silence."
Gelio grimaced, knowing he might be right. "We'll look on the bright side. If one day she dies, the problem's gone. But I can't let her ruin this kingdom. We've bled and suffered on the battlefield—we won't let one person destroy it all for her own pleasure."