The maid had just closed the door behind her when Minerva casually tossed her cloak aside, unfastened the decorum buttons at her collar, and allowed her silk shirt to hang loosely, revealing a glimpse of her delicate collarbones. No longer maintaining the posture of a lady, the Princess of Charlemagne Kingdom leaned back and lay down on the couch, her slender fingers vigorously massaging her temples.
The relief of removing her mask was fleeting. Now, free from the noise and constraints, the fatigue, gloom, anger, and confusion that had built up during the military conference became even more intense.
Sending troops to Austria had never once been discussed in a joint meeting from beginning to end; the entire affair was unilaterally conducted in secrecy by the army. If it weren't for Alfheim's news broadcast system announcing the matter, those bastards would have probably continued to conceal it.
