She changed Europe

Page 87

“No wonder you are so different from the other men I have met. So you are the noble sir.” Marta slowly placed her fair and beautiful hand on Gisela’s lips, and then gently stroked the two tufts of masquerade mustache on Gisela’s lips with her index finger.

Faced with the teasing from the beautiful mature woman, Gisela blushed a little. Of course, it wasn't just her cheeks; the burning sensation even reached her ears. But even so, Gisela remained naturally wary of the woman in front of her, fearing that she might launch another unexpected attack.

“We’re outside…” Gisela whispered to Marta, but the dark-haired woman in front of her seemed unmoved.

"Sir, where is this place? Even if we spend a wonderful time together here, no one will gossip about us. There are no laws, no morals here, the only thing that exists here is the most primal and real human impulses." Marta spoke slowly and deliberately to the pretty face of the "young man" so close to her.

“You are so charming that I fell hopelessly in love with you from the very beginning of your performance.” Marta simply looked at Gisela quietly, without making any further moves. Unlike Marta, Gisela’s heart was already pounding. After all, such an encounter and love-at-first-sight confession was so rare that it left Gisela slightly dazed.

All that's left is to do as before. For some reason, when Gisela thought about her past experience with Chloris, she suddenly mustered up her courage, as if to prove her masculinity, and wanted to take the initiative and pin her down.

“Of course, it was just a joke.” Marta straightened her back again, then stood up and reached out to Gisele to help her stand up.

"Huh?" Gisela was somewhat surprised by the abrupt end of everything, a voice in her mind repeating, "You took off your skirt and this is what you show me?"

"Pfft! Your Highness, this only makes me want to tease you more." Marta sat down on the ground, clutching her stomach and laughing.

Gisela was exasperated, looking at the beautiful woman laughing hysterically in front of her, and for a moment she didn't know how to retaliate, so she could only let her do as she pleased.

“Now that you know my identity, you naturally understand that I can use the power I hold to deal with you.” As if trying to salvage what little dignity she had left, Gisela put her hands on her hips and said in a serious tone.

“No, no, no! Your Highness, if you need me, I can offer you my few talents.” Marta walked slowly to Gisela and took out a slightly crumpled piece of paper from her proud chest.

"Seeing is believing." Marta said calmly, her demeanor completely different from her previous alluring and captivating style.

"Seeing is not necessarily believing," Gisela muttered as she took the note.

"Count Andrássy's relationship with the Péla family was superficial. The count was both the mouthpiece of the Hungarian nobility and the agent of the Viennese court in Budapest. He was not the shining hero that the outside world saw him as, but an unscrupulous and ambitious man."

“Holding your bets on both sides, if I’m not mistaken, Your Highness has already made contact with him. Isn’t that right?” Marta’s words instantly reminded Gisela of the count’s probing of him when he first arrived in Budapest, and why he had made him watch that parliamentary argument.

All of the Count's efforts were merely an attempt to leave a channel for negotiation with Gisela, portraying himself as a silent fence-sitter in the pacifist camp. In this respect, the Count was clearly very astute, and his political wisdom lived up to his reputation as the uncrowned king of Hungary. Whether he supported the radicals was an open question, as his blatant indulgence of this faction revealed his ambiguous attitude.

"So, Miss Mata Hari, can you tell me who you are and why you are sharing this information with me?"

The historical Mata Hari (August 7, 1876 – October 15, 1917) rose from humble beginnings as an unknown country girl to become a sensational Parisian stripper. Secretly, she skillfully navigated the complexities of French and German politics, becoming a legendary female spy. Even when arrested and executed, she faced death with a nonchalant air, blowing a kiss to her soul.

But the current time and experience didn't match up with that woman's, which only fueled Gisela's curiosity.

PS1: Ra!

Chapter 324 The Fall of Saint Stephen's Crown: Capter 40 Gisela's New Love? (Seeking Votes)

“Your Highness, rather than having a long future together, we seem to have some questions that need to be answered, don’t we?” Miss Marta turned her gaze to the silver-haired little girl beside her. Clearly, Marta had also noticed the girl’s unusual nature, as she possessed a very holy aura.

“This girl’s condition is important, but I can’t judge whether you are trustworthy right now.” Gisela, though lustful, was not one to let it interfere with important matters. Clearly, she was more concerned about this woman’s identity than the unconscious Theresa. After all, if the woman were really a dancer, she wouldn’t have approached her like this, nor would she have such a good understanding of the situation in Hungary.

“My identity? What does Your Highness want to hear? Is it the ‘Nightingale’ of France or the ‘Rose’ of Britain, the ‘Greece’ of Prussia, or the ‘Anna’ of the Russian Empire? Or… can I become your Austrian…” Marta’s lips curled up slightly as she moved closer to Gisela again, then gently lifted Gisela’s chin with her fingertips, her tone playful yet coquettish.

"You're a double agent!?" Gisela came to this conclusion after a brief moment of thought.

"Bingo! Your Highness is so clever." Marta spun around on the spot and then, like a lady, lifted the hem of her skirt with both hands.

"You're playing with fire, miss." Throughout history, multi-faceted spies have never fared well, let alone the woman before you who is single-handedly maneuvering among the world's major powers. If it were the intelligence department of a major power, taking her life would be far too easy.

However, Gisela also admired this woman. Her ability to travel between major countries naturally showed that she had real strength, and if she could recruit such a top-notch spy, it would definitely be more beneficial than harmful to her.

“Your Highness, there is a saying in the far East: ‘Pulling chestnuts out of the fire.’” Marta bent down, meeting Gisela’s eyes.

“No, no, no! Miss Marta, ‘playing with fire’ describes something thankless and arduous, but given that you are still alive, your current situation should be called a narrow escape from a desperate situation, no! Perhaps a better term would be ‘victory in danger’.” Gisela’s understanding of Eastern culture, while not exactly profound, was far superior to that of most Westerners.

“My choice has never been wrong.” Marta pulled Gisela into her arms again and whispered in her fox ear.

"Do you know what the greatest skill is for surviving in the cracks, Your Highness?" Marta's tone was as gentle as a girl next door, but who would know that she was the top female spy in the intelligence circles of various European countries?

Gisela shook her head. After all, she didn't know much about intelligence and espionage, and could only rely on movies and TV shows from her previous life.

"That is to make yourself valuable."

"The British need my intelligence to better understand the situation in the Balkans; the French need my intelligence to understand what the British are thinking in the Balkans; the Russians need me to understand what Britain and France want in the Balkans; similarly, Prussia needs to pay close attention to the movements of various countries; and the British will eventually ask me for the intentions of other powers. All these contradictions and their root cause are in the Balkans, and I am to them as much as the Balkan Peninsula itself—a source of both love and hate."

The zero-sum game between the great powers gave Mata Hari room to maneuver. A person who can successfully navigate this balance line is undoubtedly a true intelligence genius. She has the ability to obtain intelligence while also knowing how to distribute the intelligence she has to maintain a balance between herself and her employers.

“Your disguise was indeed very deceptive at first.” Gisela broke free from the embrace Marta had given her, looking at the black-haired mature woman in front of her with a sense of composure.

“Just like before, I only saw you as a man I admired.” Marta teased Gisela with a witty tone, which only made Gisela more interested in the woman in front of her.

"So let's go back to the original question: why did you tell me all this?" Now that the issue of identity has been resolved, the remaining questions must also be answered.

“It’s very simple. I need a partner from the Austrian Empire to complete my intelligence network across Europe. Of course, this is just the intention I’ve revealed to the other powers.” Marta’s lips curled slightly, and she bowed again in Gisela’s direction.

“I would like to serve you further, my esteemed and beautiful princess.” Marta gently lifted Gisela’s left hand with her right hand, and then, like a gentleman, gracefully kissed the back of her hand.

"The previous question about Count Andrahi was merely a deposit. I will now present you with two gifts, at which point you will understand whether I am sincere and whether my information is accurate."

Faced with Marta's invitation, Gisela rested her chin on her hand and thought for a moment before nodding. She couldn't refuse free information, and as for whether the other party was deceiving her, she could listen first and then decide.

"First, regarding this little girl, her name is Theresa Apocalypse. She is the 255th Pope of the Vatican. Her purpose in coming here is to seek refuge with you, and the one protecting her is the Thirteenth Division, to which Sister Aponia, whom you are with, belongs. Second, the lady named Shahrador beside you is not trustworthy. Her true identity is a Pasha of the Ottoman Empire. She is currently secretly cooperating with the British Empire, preparing to instigate a Muslim uprising on the Austrian-Turkish border." Marta clearly shared all the information she had with Gisela, and all that remained for her to do was wait for Gisela's judgment.

Regarding the first point, Marta's information should be largely confirmed, as Aponia had indeed mentioned to her that an important figure from the Thirteen Courts would be visiting her. Now that I think about it, the so-called important figure from the Papacy was her. I just didn't expect the Pope to be a young girl...

Secondly, this almost perfectly matches what she overheard that day. The only difference is that she doesn't seem to know that Shahrador's actions were instigated by Gisela himself. A Muslim uprising was inevitable, but the scale she envisioned was not the result of her joining forces with the British.

In conclusion, she did not lie in at least two aspects. Furthermore, based on the relevance of logical language organization, it can be deduced that if the latter two points are true, the first point must also be true; otherwise, if the latter two points are true, the first point would lose its logical support.

Count Andrássy's status as a fence-sitter is now confirmed, but considering his tendency to suggest coronation to Gisela, it can be determined that he still has the possibility of negotiation and cooperation, which at least shows that he still has the willingness to cooperate.

PS1: Actually, although the fox is missing something, it still has something to replace it 0v0

Chapter 325 The Fall of Saint Stephen's Crown: Capter 41 A New Storm (Vote Requested)

After sorting through all the information, Gisela could clearly identify the biggest enemies in resolving the Hungarian problem: first, the Hungarian Parliament itself, and second, the Pest family. To bring down both of them at once, speed and ruthlessness were essential!

The fence-sitters had a choice precisely because they were given too much time to choose. Gisela doesn't have time to waste with them now. Besides, a new and real crisis has arrived in Italy. These are no longer ordinary fence-sitters; a strong hand is needed!

"It seems Your Highness has already made your judgment. So, would you be willing to take in a poor soul like me?" Marta suddenly looked at Gisela with a pitiful and charming gaze, and then asked in a coquettish tone.

If it were someone else reacting this way, Gisela would certainly not hesitate to show his "manly" side and pull her into his arms to comfort her.

She is, after all, a "female fox," and history has long documented how foxes can bring ruin to a country.

“What if I don’t want to hire you?” Gisela said, half-jokingly.

"Then I'll share the story of you dressing up as a man and going to the Budapest shopping brothels." The black-haired mature woman's sudden words almost made Gisela stumble and fall to the ground.

"Ahem! I was just kidding..." In fact, Gisela didn't need to worry about Marta's words, because even if she revealed this, no newspaper would dare to publish such a thankless news, because the government would cause them trouble, and the people who loved the princess would not let them off the hook. Gisela was just feeling guilty.

“I was just kidding.” Marta gave Gisela a slight smile, then took off her dancer’s dress in front of Gisela.

"You, you, you! What are you doing! How can you take off your clothes in broad daylight! Don't you have any shame?!" Gisela blushed and tried to cover her eyes. As a woman, Gisela should have been used to these kinds of scenes by now, but Marta's overly suggestive clothing and unusually beautiful way of undressing aroused her most primal desires.

"Is there anyone else here besides you?" It seems this black-haired mature woman doesn't care.

"No! Put your clothes on..." Of course, Gisela ultimately chose to follow her heart.

"You do look a bit different when you take off your clothes. No wonder you chose this profession. Does it take a long time to practice?" As it turns out, most of the so-called sex appeal is just a figment of the human brain's imagination. If you really "appreciate" it calmly, you won't get so excited.

The person did not acknowledge their flushed cheeks or their unusually docile wagging tail.

“Yes, it’s been a long time, both on and off the bed,” Marta replied to Gisela’s complaint with a blank expression.

"On the bed!" Gisela seemed somewhat surprised upon hearing the black-haired mature woman's words.

"Oh? Has Your Highness already experienced the pleasures of the bedroom?" Marta brought her naked, curvaceous body close to Gisela's face and asked with a smile.

Gisela stared blankly at the proud and towering mountain in front of her and swallowed hard.

"Don't worry, Your Highness. Although I am extremely knowledgeable about matters in bed, in my opinion, only the most foolish women would use their bodies to please their targets, because they simply do not understand men. The impulse that men feel towards most women is accompanied by a mentality called the desire to conquer, and what I need to do is to create an image that they both want to conquer, yet cannot conquer."

"Because males are sometimes just that simple. When countless of their kind fall in love with the same female, and they can't have her themselves, they will consciously protect her from being obtained by other members of their kind. And this feeling eventually forms an invisible protective umbrella, freeing me from being bothered by these trivial questions."

"In the end, while holding my chastity in my hands, I became the most unrestrained female spy in Europe." At this moment, the woman named Mata Hari laughed at the absurdity of this world with a self-deprecating tone.

At this moment, Gisela seemed to see for the first time in this dashing woman the female figure that only appeared in a very old cartoon she had seen, who was also Gisela's favorite character.

The most classic assessment of that woman in the book is: secrets are the secret to a woman's eternal youth, and betrayal is their unique privilege.

Would Miss Marta's love magic still work in front of another woman?

—Time flows

On June 25, 1871, Garibaldi's Red Shirts, which he had formed in his own name, successfully landed at the port of Messina with a force of one thousand men. Then, surrounded by the citizens of Messina who had been waiting for a long time, they successfully captured the fortress controlled by the Kingdom Army, which guarded the strait north of Messina.

It was less a capture than a surrender, because less than ten minutes into the battle, a large-scale mutiny broke out among the fortress garrison. Less than half an hour later, the garrison commander, who had been bound hand and foot, was thrown onto a mule and walked out of the fortress gate to receive "friendly greetings" from the people.

In just half a day, the second largest city on Sicily fell into Garibaldi's hands. But for the royal army, all the disasters had only just begun.

With the Strait of Messina falling into enemy hands, the sea route from Sicily to the Italian peninsula in South Asia has been completely cut off. The exceptionally skilled military commander Garibaldi can now advance north to Naples, the kingdom's capital, and west to even attack Francesco II's rear. Even more alarming is that, with support from an unknown source, Garibaldi's army has rapidly expanded to nearly 20,000 men in just two days, a large portion of whom are former soldiers of the kingdom who have voluntarily surrendered.

"Liberate Sicily to the west, overthrow the reactionary king's army and regime, and let southern Italy belong to the Republic!" The passionate citizens stood in the center of the square, shouting loudly. Their voices were filled with an unprecedented fighting spirit. They were now engaged in a great cause, and their leader was none other than the omnipotent Miss Garibaldi.

"What do you want to do next?" The silver-haired man stood on the high platform, looking at the approachable-looking woman with long brown hair beside him.

“The people want me to completely crush the king’s army and his regime,” Garibaldi said softly.

"If I were them, I would also choose to vent my anger, then stomp on the heads of those once high and mighty nobles and officials, and even spit on them." The man lit his cigarette again, looking at the indignant citizens in the square with some emotion.

PS1: Ra!

Chapter 326 The Fall of Saint Stephen's Crown: Capter 42 Garibaldi's Transformation (Seeking Votes)

"Their anger is justified, after all, Francesco II chose to defend his power and alienate himself from the people." Since his accession to the throne in 1859, in order to prevent a possible revolution, he raised taxes several times over to support his army and indulge the extravagance and corruption of the nobility.

He then declined an invitation from Cavour, the former prime minister of the Kingdom of Sardinia, to form the Fass-Sassin alliance to jointly oppose Austrian rule in Italy.

This was clearly a reactionary regime, and Garibaldi's status as an accomplice of the Austrian Empire naturally aroused dissatisfaction among many people. Coupled with the instigation of some opposition parties within the kingdom, the outbreak of this crisis was only a matter of time. The arrival of the legendary hero Garibaldi was like a small spark in a pile of dry tinder, which, even if only slightly ignited, could burn everything away.

“Unfortunately, the power of ordinary people is ultimately limited. There is still someone we need to try to win over…” Garibaldi rubbed his hands together and kicked a small pebble off the platform.

"You mean the Miss VV you're talking about?" the man said softly.

VV's full name is Vittorio Veneto, the undisputed head of the Sicilian Mafia. Unlike the glamorous magic users of other countries, she is not always in the public eye, but rather lurks in the shadows where the light doesn't reach. She doesn't belong to any country or power, but she maintains varying degrees of friendly relations with political figures around the world, from the Empress (Elizabeth) to ordinary citizens, from the Italian peninsula to the New World across the ocean. Her influence may not be vast, but it spans the globe.

"Her attitude is crucial to controlling southern Italy and Sicily."

“Miss, you’ve changed. The hero who once fearlessly challenged all injustice and violence against oppressors has changed.” The silver-haired man shrugged, looking somewhat helpless.

"Oh? Is that so? So what do you think of me?" Garibaldi asked, tilting his head.

“You used to be a pure hero, but now you’re more like a politician. After all, only they would go back to find allies and make appropriate compromises…” According to her original nature, she, who was on the side of light, didn’t need to care about the opinion of a female gang leader. But in fact, after many events, Garibaldi had already become much more shrewd, especially in her attitude towards things, which was subtly influenced by Misella.

"Siegfried, people always grow. Seeing their comrades fall time and time again, watching the efforts of the Italian people go to waste time and time again, no one with a heart of stone would not feel sad and waver." In Rome, in South America, on the banks of the Ticino River, she shouted beautiful slogans time and time again, watching her compatriots bleed into rivers.

"War and politics are both indispensable." From the moment she launched the expedition of a thousand men, she understood Mazzini's resentment and comprehended Cavour's helplessness in the face of his inability to do what he could. As the last hope among the "Three Heroes," she had to ensure that everything went perfectly.

I'll handle the negotiations. You send our troops to Palermo, and we'll meet up outside the city in three days.

"Yes, my lord." The man bowed and watched the woman leave.

Three days later, when the scorching summer sun was high overhead, King Francesco II of the Two Sicilies was awakened from his comfortable afternoon nap in the Norman Palace by his general, and then somewhat hastily led to the watchtower by the old city wall.

His Majesty the King, only thirty-five years old, should have been in his prime and full of energy. However, due to years of opium addiction and debauchery, he looked prematurely aged. Even the bright and imposing military uniform he wore still looked incredibly out of place on him.

“General! If you have disturbed my sleep, then you must have brought news that I take seriously. If not, then this is your fate.” Francesco II glanced at the several corpses hanging from the city gate not far away. These were the main organizers of the uprising whom his army had recently arrested when they stormed Palermo. He would naturally not be lenient or forgiving of any mob that attempted to overthrow his rule.

"Your Majesty, the new rebels are preparing to attack the city." The general anxiously handed the binoculars to the king.

“Absurd! Even if we exclude the 20,000 troops I sent out to suppress the revolution, I still have a full 30,000 troops in Palermo! The mob in the city has long been suppressed by me, so what’s the point of talking about rebels!” Francesco II, who believed he had everything under control, seemed unwilling to believe his general’s unreliable statement.

Soon the king's gaze fell upon an army of men stretching as far as the eye could see, extending from the coastal beaches into the dense thickets, covering almost the entire plain.

They carried hoes, sickles, and various old-fashioned weapons. Of course, there were also many soldiers carrying modern firearms and wearing uniforms similar to his army's, but unlike his soldiers, these men had dyed their clothes red. The crowd seemed to be chanting the same name.

"Who are they! Why didn't anyone tell me there were so many rioters on this damned island!" The king angrily pounded on the stone wall, then glared resentfully at his generals.

"Your Majesty, they are the Red Shirts, the rebels led by that woman named Garibaldi," a silent general said in a low voice, his head bowed.

“Gariporti?! Damn it! When did that woman arrive in Sicily?! Why didn’t anyone tell me?” Francesco II, engrossed in wiping out unarmed civilians and indulging in a leisurely vacation in Sicily, failed to notice the letter sent to him a few days earlier by the Messina garrison commander through a dangerous messenger. Of course, he was also unaware that this loyal subject of his had already been hanged on a lamppost by the honest and simple citizens of Messina.

"Where is that noble lady from the Mafia? I need her help. Without her, how can we deal with that madwoman and her army?" The only mage in the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies is Lady VV. It's somewhat absurd that a dignified king has to be subservient to a gang leader, but that's the reality.

"Your Majesty, we were just doing it, but the Mafia hasn't given us any response. It's as if they've completely disappeared..." Upon hearing this, the king gasped.

PS1: The weekend is over again QAQ

Chapter 327 The Fall of Saint Stephen's Crown: Capter 43 The Leader of Sicily (Seeking Votes)

“Deficiente! (Pig)!” The king angrily cursed at the generals before him, having completely forgotten his decades of courtly decorum, and using the most common and easily understood “auspicious words” used by street vendors and laborers when they were asking if someone was shortchanging them.

"Call Arminio and Arecio back to me and have them flank us from both sides! I don't believe that 50,000 troops are no match for this rabble." After a moment, the somewhat tired king sat down on a chair that the soldiers had just brought him, and then said softly, rubbing his forehead.

Unfortunately, the generals in front of him stood there awkwardly, looking at each other. After a while, one of them stepped forward and explained in a low voice.

"Your Majesty, the armies of Generals Arminio and Arecio have been completely annihilated, and most of their soldiers have surrendered..." As the general spoke, silence fell. Apart from the piercing shouts of battle outside the city, there was no other sound. This unusual silence was not a good sign.

Anyone present who was sober understood that this was the calm before the storm.

"All those below the rank of general, leave," Francesco II said calmly.