Chapter 11
Gabrielle raised her fan to cover her lips. The orange light of the fire made her hair look like it was glowing, and the shadows of the room seemed to magnify her fine facial features and make her look every bit the mage she was pretending to be. She lazily flicked her eyes to Elle and barely tipped her chin.
“Yes, yes.” Elle scurried forward. “Please allow me to bestow the honor upon you of introducing the renowned Mademoiselle Mystrim.”
“Renowned, is it?” The Chosen mage smirked as he idly stroked his goatee. “And yet I have never heard of the illustrious Mademoiselle Mystrim, much less that she is a member of our…company.”
It was about then that Angelique realized she wasn’t cut out for undercover work. Her mouth went dry, and her heart beat faster and faster—and the mage wasn’t even looking at her, but at Elle!
Elle looked to Gabrielle, who rolled her eyes and gave the sigh of one who finds any sort of exertion cumbersome.
“Yes, yes, of course.” Elle bowed several times to Gabrielle before facing the Chosen mage. “Mademoiselle Mystrim is a particularly talented illusionist who—due to the public fervor for her skills—has, over the past few years, found it necessary to retire to her country home. She has no use for those outside her abode and does not care what a common mage would think of her,” Elle said.
The mage stared at Elle. “You got all of that from a sigh?”
Elle pushed her thick glasses farther up her nose and craned her neck while remaining in her slightly hunched position. “I have had the great honor of serving Mademoiselle Mystrim for many years. It is my job to anticipate her needs before she voices them and to speak what she cannot.”
“Cannot, or doesn’t feel like?” the Chosen mage asked.
Elle scowled. “You dare besmirch my lady?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” the Chosen mage said smoothly. “But you are essentially saying your lady is against mingling with society?”
“Indeed.”
He stepped past Angelique and muttered under his breath, “A small mercy for society.”
“What did you say?” Elle’s voice crackled with suspicion, perfectly playing her role of faithful attendant.
“Nothing.” The mage folded his arms across his chest. “But I shall say my own greetings. I am Nefari, the keeper of this modest shop. Now, pray tell what brings the illustrious and rarely seen Mademoiselle Mystrim to my doors?”
Elle turned expectantly to Gabrielle.
Gabrielle tilted her head and fanned herself for a brief moment, then huffed like an offended cat. Puss, most likely.
Elle sagely nodded. “Yes, of course, Mademoiselle.” She turned to the Chosen mage and bowed her head. “With Prince Severin spearheading the useless resistance, Loire has become markedly more…active.”
Nefari certainly didn’t seem to find her words suspicious—he appeared to be much more preoccupied with “Mademoiselle Mystrim’s” disdain for speaking as he looked back and forth between the pair, and wrinkles crinkled his forehead.
“Mademoiselle Mystrim fears certain precautions may become necessary given all of this activity,” Elle continued. “And though she is outstanding at illusions—simply a marvel, there are none better!—she would prefer to have something more, hmm, shall we say, solid to guarantee her safety?”
“And she said all of that with a huff?” Nefari said.
Elle bristled. “Are you implying I am terrible at my job?” Elle whirled around to face Gabrielle. “Mademoiselle Mystrim, strike me down if I have misspoken or misinterpreted your will, please!”
Gabrielle blinked slowly twice, then looked away.
“Ahah!” Elle turned back around to brandish a finger in the Chosen mage’s face. “You see! I understand the Mademoiselle perfectly!”
“Hm,” Nefari said. “Regardless. My work is available in many of our stores. Why did Mademoiselle Mystrim—who finds the public so tiring—come directly here?”
Angelique tried to weigh out his words. Is he testing us, or is he just that curious about Gabrielle’s act?
“We did look at some of your work in other stores.” Elle sniffed and adjusted her glasses. “That was how I knew you were skilled enough to suit Mademoiselle Mystrim’s needs. Unfortunately, we were never able to find anything exactly as my lady wished for—nor as strong. It became apparent we would have to make the journey if we truly wanted anything of worth.”
“Ah.” Nefari shrugged. “I see. Most of my line of protective charms have been diverted to our largest project—as I’m sure you know.”
Largest project? Is that something to do with Evariste? Or are they cooking up something new?
Angelique steeled herself so she continued to look bored and didn’t react.
“What spells are you specifically looking for?” Nefari asked.
Elle looked to Gabrielle.
Gabrielle made a sort of whining sigh.
Elle whipped back around to face the black mage. “The strongest you have.”
Nefari pointedly glanced at Quinn and Angelique. “A bit paranoid, are you?”
“You,” Elle haughtily pushed her glasses up her nose, “Have obviously not been in any territory that Lady Enchantress Angelique passes through, or you’d know just why this is so necessary!”
It was a good thing Angelique was wearing a helm. All of her concern and concentration weren’t enough to keep her from bulging her eyes at Elle in alarm.
What are you doing?!
Surprisingly, Nefari leaned back and smoothed his goatee with a thoughtful gesture. “What you say is true and not unreasonable. Very well. Then I will show you the spells and charms we have that can resist magic cast by an enchanter or enchantress.” He sauntered across the room, heading to the table situated closest to the fireplace.
That actually worked? How?!
Gabrielle glided after him with Elle following at a shuffle.
“Everything available here is crafted at this location. We source our gems from Mullberg—they have superior stones which means they can hold a higher caliber spell,” he explained.
So that’s why they’re willing to set up shop this close to the Veneno Conclave—easier access to raw materials.
“Naturally, this means the larger and higher quality the gem, the more powerful the spell.” The black mage raised an eyebrow. “Just how strong of a spell can you afford?”
Elle peered up at Gabrielle.
Gabrielle lowered her fan long enough to reveal her perfect nose—which she twitched as she made a disdainful “Hm!” noise.
Elle bowed to her. “As you say, Mademoiselle.” She swung around and sniffed at Nefari. “Money is no object.”
Nefari smirked. “I see.”
Angelique shifted her weight, then—testing the mage’s attention—strolled across the room to approach Quinn.
The mage didn’t look away from Gabrielle and Elle, but that didn’t mean he didn’t notice her.
“These gems contain the highest caliber of my signature defense spell,” the mage said. “When you are attacked, it automatically activates a shield spell.”