If not for the vacancy of the Chief Adjutant causing a backlog of matters under her command, requiring some capable people to be added.
Otherwise, she would never have come to such a place in person.
Her thoughts drifted, calculating some layouts in Mondstadt, the Anemo Archon’s Gnosis…
Just then, her peripheral vision noticed a slight commotion behind the recruit formation below.
A male soldier with hair slicked back was quietly slipping out of the formation.
He was holding a bouquet of flowers that felt out of place in the military camp.
A smile mixed with nervousness, excitement, and smugness hung on his face as he struggled to squeeze toward the viewing platform.
Rosalyne’s ice-blue eyes narrowed slightly.
Another idiot who didn’t know any better.
She could almost guess what was in his arms, and what stupid things he was about to say.
A familiar feeling of irritation, mixed with disgust and impatience, began to rise in her heart.
At her fingertips, a trace of extreme cold began to linger silently.
And the fool in everyone’s eyes, Popov, felt his heart about to jump out of his throat.
He saw it!
The Lady seemed to have looked this way just now!
It must be because she noticed him!
He tried his best to maintain the most appropriate smile, pushing past a few blocking recruits, getting closer and closer to the viewing platform…
He cleared his throat, preparing to speak.
Intending to use the tone he had practiced countless times, which he thought was elegant and affectionate, to offer this precious Fire Rose.
To express his admiration, and by the way, mention the deep friendship between his father and the Rooster…
And Aqina, who had been locking onto Popov with the corner of her eye, also moved!
She was originally standing in the front row, and at this moment, she stepped forward violently, moving so fast that she didn’t look like a seriously injured person.
Her right hand instantly drew the standard short knife hanging at her waist, precisely knocking toward the bouquet held in Popov’s arms.
“Clatter—!” The flowers were knocked away by the tip of the knife, and those delicate, flame-like red roses were cut in half by the blade.
Petals scattered messily from the air.
“Step back!” Aqina shouted sharply, overriding the recitation on Popov’s lips and the surrounding exclamations.
She took a cross-step, blocking between Popov and the viewing platform.
The military knife in her hand pointed forward, the tip resting on Popov’s throat.
Her amber eyes were as cold as frost, locking onto him tightly.
“Presumptuous!
Carrying an unknown object and approaching The Lady without authorization, what are you trying to do?
Assassinate her?!” Her voice wasn’t loud, but because of the ferocity in her tone, it clearly spread throughout the suddenly silent ceremony scene.
Popov was completely stunned.
The smile on his face froze, turning into unbelievable terror.
He looked at the Damselette in front of him, holding a knife against him and exuding a dangerous aura.
And looked at the petals scattered all over the ground, some even floating in the air, his mind was blank.
Until the cold tip of the knife almost touched his Adam’s apple, he shuddered violently and screamed subconsciously: “You, what are you doing?!
My father is…
very familiar with the Rooster!
The Lady!
I admire you!
I just wanted to offer…” He was incoherent, looking toward the viewing platform, wanting to seek help from Rosalyne.
The entire ceremony scene was deathly silent.
Everyone was stunned by this sudden turn of events.
The recruits were dumbfounded, the officers’ faces changed drastically, and the officials on the viewing platform also stood up one after another, looking down at the stage in shock and suspicion.
All eyes eventually converged on that figure.
Rosalyne was still sitting there, her expression not even changing in the slightest.
Only, her ice-blue eyes were finally no longer boringly indifferent.
Her gaze passed over the messy petals on the ground, passed over the trembling Popov who was being pointed at by the knife.
And landed on the silver-haired Damselette who was holding a military knife, still suffering from serious injuries, yet standing in front.
The Damselette’s face was very pale, her hand holding the knife was white at the knuckles from the force, and even trembling slightly.
But her eyes were very bright.
Like a Little Wolf Cub that had found prey on the snowy plains, baring its teeth.
Carrying a kind of ferocity, and an imperceptible expectation of wanting to be recognized.
The corners of Rosalyne’s mouth curled upward.
In her light blue eyes, a hint of almost playful amusement flashed by.
So that’s it.
This was a performance carefully tailored to her preferences.
Using the most direct and brutal way to clean up the trouble she hated.
At the same time showing enough loyalty?
Or rather, the keenness to cater to her preferences.
Interesting.
This ‘Undying Cockroach’ was even more interesting than she expected.
Like a Little Wolf Cub that had just grown sharp teeth and was impatient to show its value…
Even faintly hoping to be taken in and raised.
Not annoying.
In fact, quite interesting.
Rosalyne slowly stood up from her seat.
She looked at Aqina, who was still pointing her knife at Popov below the stage.
Her red lips parted slightly, and her cold yet pleasant voice clearly reached everyone’s ears: “You, what is your name?”