Stepping on the waxed floor, the numerous council members returned to their seats, while Jeanne, still wearing her iron mask, stood in the hall.
Although the mysterious iron mask covered the upper part of her face, the lower part alone was enough to enchant countless faithful citizens.
Strong as a man, yet with maternal kindness, good-looking, and with this mysterious veil.
The oligarchs secretly cursed in their hearts, thinking this bunch of citizens and peasants were obsessed with appearances and resented wealth.
They failed to see these reliable merchants whose souls were emptied by wealth, leaving only profound wisdom and a kind heart.
But how these oligarch council members thought was not Jeanne's concern right now.
She had more important matters to attend to.
She raised her hand and placed it on the chalice emblem on her breastplate: "I originally didn't want to meddle in Dawn Island's affairs, the Holy Alliance never forces others to take sides.
