In the brightly lit reception hall, amid the sound of a roaring orchestra, Astrid's voice was like a porcelain vase dropped on the floor, shattering into pieces. Every word she uttered was crystal clear.
Was it an illusion? Why did it feel like Astrid was hinting at something?
Upon hearing this, Monica stared silently at those ruby-like eyes. Her slender, dark eyebrows furrowed slightly at some point, only to smooth out again in the next second.
"I believe most people would have such thoughts. It's nothing more than putting oneself in another's shoes and seeking common ground while reserving differences. It's not as marvelous as Your Highness Astrid described."
The pair of cold, red eyes before she seemed to see through her inner thoughts. Monica's heartbeat quickly slowed down, but after all, she was an experienced and knowledgeable Saintess of Light. A single conversation wouldn't cause her to lose composure.
"However, it's a comfortable thing to chat with someone like you."
