This is not just an apology; it's stripping the United Kingdom's military reputation and diplomatic dignity bare on the international stage!
It's trampling the Anglo-Saxon superiority underfoot with relentless friction!
He could almost imagine the tumultuous waves surging in the London Parliament Building, the shattered teacups in the Prime Minister's Mansion, and the scathing cartoons in those acerbic tabloids.
"Mr. Casare," Cavendi's voice was as dry as sandpaper scraping, "This request... Do you know what this means for my country? It's a hundred times harder than acknowledging Belize! This is tantamount to political suicide! For God's sake, can we... slightly..." He struggled to find any room for maneuvering, even if only a symbolically vague expression, at least to provide London with some meager veil.
"Bang——!"
A loud noise interrupted Cavendi's humble pleading.
