In the afternoon, South Grant had some of the plaster cast removed at the doctor's, at least it wouldn't be so obvious when she wore a suit.
South Grant was accustomed to wearing casual clothes, so much so that when she put on a European-style, retro, abstinent tailcoat, even Ivan Keller, who was waiting at the door, couldn't help but be stunned for a moment.
Her facial contours had been refined, now appearing sharp yet aloof.
Coupled with her phoenix eyes, she carried a natural air of nobility with every movement.
It was as if she truly was a prince stepping out of a European court from the last century, exuding grace all over.
Ivan Keller had been to numerous events outside, the number of various banquets he attended was countless.
Among all the people he had seen, probably only Nathan Foster was the best in both appearance and demeanor.
