The Archduchess Fosterman hums in solace as her tarantula rests on her shoulder. Her quill pen gliding across the papers as she worked endlessly inside her office, dealing with military and political affairs with no halt.

Her gaze trained on the papers as she took a sip of her tea. However, her peace was interrupted by a soft knock on her door. She sighs as her face hardened, she pursed her lips as she stared at the door with scrutiny. She slightly fixed her uniform as she spoke in a professional tone

"State your business."