"Even Princess Astrid believes so. It seems the outcome of this match is all but decided."
Monica placed the Empire Weekly on legs. Sunlight fell over, making the thin white stockings on her legs appear as translucent as paper. Below, one could vaguely glimpse her snow-white instep, not covered by her high heels, with faint bluish veins clearly visible.
Astrid gently shook her head upon hearing this, her voice calm.
"Everything has its variables. Who knows if this 'Bone-Chilling Cold' has any hidden trump cards, or perhaps Miss Iris is not in good condition today and cannot exert her full strength."
"As spectators, we should simply await the result."
Hearing this, Monica nodded slightly, the white ribbon on her shoulder swaying in the wind. She murmured in agreement.
"Princess Astrid's considerations are indeed more thorough."
