But the Marshal, trained to have superior reflexes, couldn't escape those hawk-like eyes that would follow him even into death.
Which was precisely what led to this disaster just waiting to happen.
__
"This should do it, right?" asked the woman with soft brown hair tucked neatly beneath a registration attendant's cap.
She had on the same crisp uniform as the others—though on her, the bland fabric looked elegant, sharp, almost regal. Her posture was too straight, her hands too precise, and her eyes too shrewd for a mere clerk. Even in disguise, Empress Gisella radiated authority like perfume.
"Honey, it's excellent. It seems you are great at this," replied the man beside her, his black hair styled plainly, his expression neutral.
