She changed Europe

Page 45

PS1: I'll leave the year-end update to myself next year.

Chapter 164 Irises Wither in the Alps: Capter 25 The Princess's Advice

"Gentlemen, the latest intelligence indicates that the Kingdom of Sardinia and France have formed an alliance. This reminds me once again of the Corsican witch of seventy years ago, who brought devastating disaster to the empire. Both share the damned surname Bonaparte, and both share the detestable nemesis, France." A refined old man stood in the speaking area, looking at the assembled councilors below.

"The Bonaparte family's ambition to seize Italian interests is obvious. We can no longer stand idly by. We must defeat the Kingdom of Sardinia before the French army completes its assembly in Provence. Northern Italy is an indispensable tax-paying region for the empire." The old man's tone was somewhat impassioned, and his supporters in the audience applauded in support.

"My lord! So how confident are you that you can defeat the Kingdom of Sardinia before French reinforcements arrive? Even if you can defeat the Kingdom of Sardinia, what reason do you have to force France, which is already on the verge of war, to agree to peace?" Clearly, where there are pro-war factions, there are bound to be pro-peace factions as well.

"What we're deciding now is whether or not to fight. As for how to fight, that's for our excellent generals here to decide." The Upper House is full of generals serving in the military. For these military nobles, nothing is more desirable than war. The only way to gain honor is through war. The empire has been at peace for decades, and they certainly don't want to miss such a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

“That’s absolutely right!” At this moment, some nobles dressed in military uniforms with countless medals hanging on their chests stood up and responded loudly.

The leader of the peace faction no longer looked at his political enemy, but instead turned his head to Emperor Joseph, who sat on the high platform in the center of the parliament.

"Your Majesty, I believe we should choose to negotiate with the British rather than wage war. I'm sure the British would not want to see France's influence in the Mediterranean expand further."

"Of course, if we win the war, that would be good. But if we lose, we will lose the vast majority of the Empire's territory in northern Italy. Even if we manage to hold onto some of it, these territories will become a ticking time bomb. After all, an Italian nation-state with Italians as the majority becoming the Empire's neighbor will only cause the Italians within the Empire to waver even more, or even side with the Kingdom of Sardinia." This minister had a far-sighted perspective, but unfortunately, only a minority realized this.

The nobles present also had their own interests and demands. The pro-war faction was mainly composed of soldiers, who naturally longed for war. The pro-peace faction was not like this gentleman, who was thinking of the country. The reason they were willing to advocate peace was simply because they had huge interests in Italy. They all shared a common demand: they did not want their property to be lost because of the war.

Joseph rested his head on his right hand, listening to the nobles speak with his eyes closed, until the gentleman called him, at which point he opened his eyes again and looked around at the assembled courtiers.

“My lovely Sophie, tell me your thoughts.” Joseph ignored the eager gazes of everyone present and turned to the blonde girl sitting on a shorter throne to the side.

Emperor Joseph, a true winner in life, now has not only a beautiful and virtuous wife, Empress Elizabeth, who is also a magical being, but also two daughters as beautiful as their mother, and a clever and bright son. Although his empire is not powerful, it is still not weak. Since he ascended the throne as a child, he has ruled this oldest empire in Europe for 22 years. Today, apart from the Hungarians, no one dares to question the emperor's authority, and his throne is as stable as no one can shake.

"Your Majesty, I support war!" This was an expected answer. After all, Princess Sophie was also a soldier, and her support for war seemed perfectly reasonable to the nobles present.

“But not now…” Sophie changed the subject, stood up and looked at the pro-war nobles who had originally wanted to applaud her, their expressions now somewhat awkward.

"I ask everyone here, is our army truly prepared for war?" Sophie bit her lip, enduring excruciating pain. She could feel her body deteriorating far more rapidly than she had feared. In the past, this pain would occur every three to four days, but recently it had shortened to one to two days.

"Our army is undergoing a re-equipment process. According to reports from the supply department, our troops in Lombardy are still using old-fashioned muzzle-loading rifles, and the equipment rate of new rifles is less than 30%. Even including our elite defense forces in the Netaleria region, the equipment rate of new rifles is less than 65%, and training in our new tactical manuals is not yet complete." After all, the one who promoted the re-equipment and tactical reforms was none other than the two noble princesses, so these words coming from Sophie naturally carried weight.

"Of course, some of the gentlemen here will say that the powerful Imperial army would have no difficulty dealing with the weak and poorly equipped Kingdom of Sardinia. But you must also know that the Empire's opponent in this war is not the Kingdom of Sardinia, but France behind them." Before the Franco-Prussian War, France undoubtedly possessed the best army in Europe, both in terms of personnel and training.

Upon hearing the mention of facing the French army head-on, the generals present couldn't help but wipe the sweat from their brows. Compared to Britain and France, France and Austria were the true historical rivals.

The feud between France and the Habsburgs began in Germany, the Netherlands, Italy, and extended all the way to the New World. The early Valois-Habsburg Wars (Italian Wars 1494-1595), followed by the Thirty Years' War, the War of the Austrian Succession, and the Napoleonic Wars... Compared to the love-hate relationship between England and France, France and Austria were clearly the true blood enemies.

Ironically, Austria was always unable to defeat the French, and when they couldn't win, they could only resort to marriage alliances. Historically, the Habsburg family was forced to marry many beautiful princesses to France in exchange for peace, while Britain always played a crucial role in the process...

If we were to personify nations, Britain would certainly be a despicable woman who manipulates the noble French knights and the dignified Austrian ladies, then cultivates a harem across Europe, inciting them to engage in palace intrigue, all to achieve her goal of offshore balance.

"Therefore, in my view, we need to fight, but not now. Ultimately, we will have to fight France, so there is no need to rush. We should just wait for the situation to change and be prepared!"

PS1: In terms of warfare, the Habsburgs and the Valois dynasty were more hostile.

Chapter 165 Irises Withering in the Alps: Capter 26 The Arno River Porcelain Collapse Incident (Happy New Year!)

Sophie's caution stemmed primarily from a message she received from an intelligence agent named Brad. Besides the intelligence itself, Brad also provided a hypothesis about the Cavour conspiracy and strategies for dealing with it:

Since he wants us to play the aggressor, we'll deliberately deny them that opportunity. The Empire only needs to send a signal to the European continent—the Empire has no demands on the Italian territories outside its own borders; it simply wants to maintain the status quo.

This was also the conclusion reached by the sisters Sophie and Gisela after secretly discussing it. On the one hand, they expanded and prepared the empire's army, and on the other hand, they prevented Savoy's treacherous scheme from succeeding. The empire had plenty of time to stall, but they were afraid that their opponents would lose patience.

"As you all have heard, Sophie's viewpoint is also my viewpoint. Both of you factions are acting in the name of the Empire, and I will not mistreat either of you. Generals, just focus on preparing for war. As for your assets in Italy, if the Empire wins, I will demand reparations to compensate you. But if the Empire loses, you will lose these things just the same." Joseph's handsome face exuded confidence, and his thick beard added to his imposing presence.

"We will heed your teachings." The noble councilors present stood up and bowed to the emperor.

As for the vote, it was meaningless now, since the emperor's words had struck a good balance for both sides, preserving their own interests in a sense. For the nobles, being able to pledge allegiance to the monarch without affecting their own interests was the best outcome.

Sophie sat back down, her face pale, but she could still bear the pain.

"Meeting adjourned!" The emperor's voice boomed, and the next second he turned to look at his daughter:

"Then my beautiful little Sophie, you should go and rest too..." With that, Joseph strode confidently toward the exit of the hall. He still had many domestic matters to attend to.

Watching the emperor depart, Sophie collapsed into her seat as if she had fallen apart. Looking at the nobles leaving one after another, Sophie breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'm leaving everything to you, little Gisela." Sophie's words were soft, but she believed that her sister could handle the empire's crisis.

On July 3, 1870, a few months after the conclusion of the Imperial Senate session, a sudden event shattered the brief peace in northern Italy.

In Pisa, located in the Duchy of Tuscany, Italian merchants, unable to bear the high ship management fees and taxes, dumped a batch of Austrian-made porcelain into the Arno River to vent their dissatisfaction with the pro-Austrian Archduke of Tuscany, Leopold II. Later, they joined forces with local workers and artisans who were also dissatisfied with the status quo to launch an uprising against Leopold II.

The Pisa riots could have been easily suppressed by the army, but Leopold II mishandled the situation, resulting in many innocent Italians being affected. Soon, this incident was portrayed by some Italian nationalists with ulterior motives as Leopold II, who had Habsburg blood, disregarding human life and wielding a butcher's knife against innocent Italians.

The incident quickly spread throughout northern Italy, and even to the Italian regions not under imperial control, sparking a series of anti-Austrian demonstrations and riots, known as the Arno Porcelain Pour and the Bloody Third of July.

Faced with rising anti-Austrian sentiment among his citizens, King Victor was forced to order his army to declare war on Austria on the 23rd in order to protect the "safety" of the Italian people. Sardinian Prime Minister Cavour's plan to strengthen national cohesion by inducing the Austrians to declare war was, by a twist of fate, achieved in a different way.

On the afternoon of the same day that the Kingdom of Sardinia declared war on Austria, Emperor Joseph, residing in the Hofburg Palace, received a declaration of war simultaneously submitted by the French ambassador. This moment, unsurprisingly, had finally arrived: after 56 years, France and Austria, these long-time enemies, once again went to the battlefield.

At this moment, Gisela, located in Prague Castle, the capital of the Kingdom of Bohemia, was lying naked on a bench like a salted fish, enjoying the superb massage skills of a Turkish bath attendant.

The summer sun kept Gisela from feeling cold, and the women-only massage room made her feel at ease without worrying about the men's stares. All of these factors made her feel incredibly comfortable and relaxed.

"Yes, right here, a little harder." Massage is a specialty of Turkey, and you can't miss it. Once you try it, you just can't stop. Gisela is clearly one of those people who just can't stop.

"Mmm... Ah... Eek...!" The Turkish technician was skilled, and each touch of her fingertips was just right to make Gisela's blood flow and her meridians clear. Such good technique made her involuntarily squint her eyes and make some suggestive sounds. Her fluffy fox ears stood up, and her tail, which was covered by a towel, swayed naturally.

"Your Highness's back is so smooth, with fair skin and a graceful figure that is in no way inferior to our Empress Sultana." The technician skillfully praised the Austrian princess's beauty. For someone like her who often served important figures, flattery was a fundamental skill.

Unfortunately, Gisela was not the kind of vain woman, or rather, she wasn't a woman at all, so she simply nodded indifferently at the technician's praise.

“Sultanna?” Gisela was clearly interested in the title. There was nothing wrong with the Ottoman emperor being called a Sultan, but Sultanna was a big problem. Because Sultanna was actually the feminine form of Sultan, which was tantamount to telling you that the current Ottoman emperor was a woman!

Although Gisela's original worldview has long since collapsed, she is still quite surprised by the emergence of a female monarch in the Islamic world. After all, there have been very few female monarchs in the Islamic world throughout history, not to mention that this monarch is not the monarch of an ordinary small Islamic country, but the monarch of the Ottoman Empire, the strongest country in the Islamic world today.

“Yes, Your Highness, although Sultana is not our Turkic name, the Empire has always adhered to Islam and follows the ancient Bedouin way of addressing monarchs, calling our monarch Sultana or Sultana.” The technician clearly mistakenly thought Gisela wanted to inquire about the origin of the term; in her view, it wasn't surprising that a young princess wouldn't know about the Far East…

PS1: Happy New Year everyone! May everything go smoothly in 2025!

Chapter 166 Irises Withering in the Alps: Capter 27 Things in the East (Seeking Votes)

"What's your Sultana's name?" Gisela turned to look at the tanned masseuse. Although the masseuse's skin color would certainly not appeal to white Europeans of this era, Gisela, as an Asian, was much more accepting of non-white people. In a sense, the dark-skinned older woman had a unique charm.

“Hurlem II (rrem in Turkish means “the pleased one”), but according to your terminology, she should be called Her Highness Roxelana.” When she mentioned her Sultan’s name, the technician’s expression was somewhat subtle, containing the respect that a ruler should have, but hidden beneath this seemingly respectful expression was a kind of anger, and these contradictory and complex emotions were precisely what Gisela caught.

She had little recollection of Hurem II Gisela, but the name Hurem did evoke some historical details. For instance, Hurem Sultanah was considered a powerful woman on par with the Ottoman Empress Wu Zetian, and was respectfully addressed as Hurem Sultan. She rose from a captured slave to become Suleiman the Magnificent's most favored concubine, eventually becoming his principal wife, and her son was designated as the future Sultan of the empire.

Of course, something seems a little off is that since the current Hürem is the second, it means that Turkey had a female monarch named Hürem before. However, these trivial matters are not of interest to Gisela. Let Turkey decline as it may; no one will regret it or be sad. I don't know what others think, but that's how Gisela thinks. After all, Turkey and the Habsburgs are sworn enemies.

"Miss, are you Armenian?" Gisela made what she considered a reasonable guess based on the technician's attitude. As non-Muslims who practiced Christianity, Armenians frequently faced discrimination and injustice in the Muslim-dominated Ottoman Empire.

Throughout history, the Ottoman Empire's persecution and massacre of Armenians never ceased, reaching its peak between 1915 and 1917, during which time over 1.5 million Armenians were killed. The Ottoman Empire, which once founded itself on the principles of religious coexistence and respect for diverse cultures, saw its decline accompanied by extreme conservatism and increasingly terrifying autocratic rule. In this light, its demise and decline might perhaps have been a consequence of its own actions.

"Your Highness, how did you know?" The technician's eyes flashed with astonishment, and her hand on Gisela's waist paused briefly at Gisela's words.

“When you mentioned Sultana’s name, I saw anger beneath the awe in your eyes. On one hand, you were filled with admiration and respect for Sultana, but on the other hand, I saw a kind of gloom and hatred.” Gisela calmly recounted the details she had observed.

"You..." The technician bit her rosy lips, then sighed helplessly.

“As Your Highness said, I hate the Ottoman Empire because its army slaughtered my compatriots and harmed my family. But I don’t hate Princess Helem, because she was also an innocent and pitiful person.” The technician raised her head as she said this, so that the princess wouldn’t notice her sadness…

"A pitiful person?" Gisela's interest was piqued by the other person's words, and she was willing to help the beautiful older sister in front of her if she could.

"Her Highness Hurem's father, the former Ottoman Sultan Abdullah Mejid I, was poisoned at a banquet in Tokabi Palace in Istanbul because his modernization reforms in the country were opposed by nobles who came from the old Yenicheri Legion (the Sultan's personal guard)." This Sultan had just defeated the Russian Empire in Crimea with the Anglo-French allied forces before this.

It is worth mentioning that the Imperial Guard system was abolished in 1826, but this system, which had been in place for hundreds of years, had already permeated all aspects of the imperial government. These imperial nobles and bureaucrats had long formed a close-knit network of relationships that controlled the empire's political situation and could even easily decide the life or death of the Sultan.

"The nobles placed the young Princess Hürem on the throne as a puppet, and kidnapped her birth mother to coerce her into submission. With no one to rely on or help her, the princess has been forced to remain a puppet Sultanah until today."

“I am Your Highness’s childhood playmate. I stayed by Your Highness’s side as a court masseur to take care of Your Highness’s life on behalf of the Empress. We had been living peacefully in the palace for a while.”

"Later, those damned generals wanted to arrest the Armenians in Istanbul. His Highness, having heard the news, tipped me off overnight and sent me out of the city. In the end, I traveled all the way north until I entered Austria. I think His Highness knows what happened after that."

“Every family has its own problems,” Gisela sighed, then lay back down, muttering to herself in Chinese.

"So how is your Princess Hurem doing? Does she have any thoughts of reclaiming power?" Although she sympathized with the Sultan's plight, as an imperial princess and the future heir to the throne, she obviously had more important matters to consider.

“I’m not quite sure. I’ve lost touch with Istanbul while I’m in Prague, but I saw in the newspapers here recently that the Ottoman Empire is about to hold a grand wedding, Sultana to a nobleman.” The technician’s eyes dimmed slightly at the mention of the wedding.

"What's your name? Perhaps I can help you in the future." There was no need to ask a passerby's name, much less make any promises to this young lady, but Gisela just couldn't bear to stand idly by. Call her a saint or a busybody if you will, she just couldn't ignore what she was seeing. Besides, being able to strike up a conversation with their Sultanah was something, and perhaps it could be used as an opportunity to stir up the situation in the Near East in the future.

“Shahrado, my name is Your Highness Shahrado.” Upon hearing Gisela’s words, the technician felt a surge of anticipation.

"Anyway, thank you for your kindness, Your Highness..." Shahrado blushed, sincerely thanking the lovely princess before her. It should be noted that the young princess before her was a powerful mage, a transcendent being who truly influenced the fate of the nation.

Just as the two were having a frank conversation, Rita walked in and, unsurprisingly, saw Shahrador straddling her prince, while Gisela was barely clothed with her hands hanging limply at her sides, as if she had been violated from behind by this barbaric Turkish woman.

Wasn't it supposed to be just a massage? Is this part of Turkish massage? Are they taking advantage of Rita's lack of interest? Thinking of this, Rita narrowed her eyes, pulled a dagger from the inside of her thigh, and walked towards the two men.

PS1: Shahrado can be compared to Goben from Kantai Collection R.

Chapter 167 Irises Wither in the Alps: Capter28 Get off my prince!

"You unreasonable barbarian, get off my prince!" Because of her dissatisfaction and anger, Rita rarely threw court etiquette and the professional ethics of her personal maid to the back of her mind.

Shahrador didn't recognize Rita, as this was her first time serving the princess. When she saw the madwoman charging towards them with a dagger, she instinctively used her hands to lift Gisela, who was only covered by a towel.

"What are you going to do..." Gisela was about to speak when the somewhat dark-skinned Turkish woman pulled her into her arms and gave her a "face wash".

Because it was summer, Shahrador wasn't wearing many clothes. Rather than clothes, it would be better to call them undergarments. The Turkish-style undergarments she wore were as thin as silk, showcasing the woman's graceful body while giving a hazy beauty. To put it bluntly, they were very erotic.

Wearing this outfit in a women's private room is perfectly fine; after all, as women, no one would care because I have what you have and I don't have what you don't. Unfortunately, these images were too stimulating for Gisela, with her breasts right in front of her and revealing all the details.

Before Gisela could even rejoice at this sudden benefit, the Turkish woman tightened her grip, pressing Gisela's head tightly against hers, as if using brainwaves.

Perhaps it was too delightful, for Gisela turned her head as if to say something, but then everything went black...

The fragrance and the feeling of happiness from her breasts, along with the suffocating sensation of not being able to breathe, simultaneously overwhelmed Gisela, leaving her in a chaotic vortex between heaven and hell. Her body began to tremble uncontrollably, and her tail swayed unnaturally, as if pleading for help.

"Ugh, ugh, ugh." Gisela tried to speak, but found that the "damned" softness was severely hindering her from making normal sounds. Get away from me, you wretched fat, Gisela wanted to roar.

"Hoo, um... Your Highness, please don't speak yet." Because Gisela's little mouth was opening and closing, Shahrado felt a little itchy, and subconsciously let out a suggestive panting.

This was nothing in itself, but Rita saw it as a clear provocation. Thinking of this, she suddenly sprinted forward at lightning speed. Just as her dagger was about to reach the two of them, Shahrador, holding little Gisela in her arms, rolled off the chair and knocked over a display case, causing Rita's attack to miss.

Shahrado still held Gisela tightly with his left arm, then used his free right hand to pick up a genuine Ming Dynasty blue and white porcelain piece from Jingdezhen and smash it at Rita.

Perhaps because she hadn't expected this "little bitch" to dare to fight back, Rita was unable to dodge the direct, straightforward sneak attack from the front.

With a loud crash and a muffled groan, Rita fell to the ground. Seemingly fearing a counterattack from the "assassin," Shahrador grabbed some gaudy bottles (enamel porcelain) and horse-shaped handicrafts in yellow, green, and white (Tang tri-color pottery) and threw them at her.

Rita saw objects flying all over the place, clutched her still slightly dizzy head, and rolled over to hide behind a wall. The objects crashed into the solid ground with a crackling sound.

"Tsk! Damn it, he's so skilled in the lower body, no wonder he's called a 'vixen' (who is the vixen?)" Rita seemed to be venting her pent-up anger and driven by revenge. After observing her surroundings, she focused her attention on a large, emerald-green stone the size of a goose egg on the shelf.

"Your Highness! I'm sorry, money is just an external thing..." Rita said softly, as if apologizing, but her actions were without any hesitation. She picked up a stone and threw it. Perhaps because of the great force, the stone bounced back after hitting the white pillar, broke through the room's window, and flew downstairs.

"Quickly, release my prince!" Rita shouted at Shahrador in the distance.

"Wait? What did you call Her Highness the Princess?" Shahrador seemed to realize something after hearing the maid's words.

"Is there a problem with me calling him 'Our Highness'?" Rita seemed to be asserting her dominance, her expression and tone revealing pride whenever she mentioned "Our Highness".

“Then there might be a misunderstanding between us…” Shahrado said with a sigh.

"A misunderstanding?" Rita narrowed her eyes, and after thinking for a moment, she decided to step out of the cover. She wanted to hear what excuse this thief would come up with.

"Oh no, Miss, please come quickly! Your Highness seems to be..." Shahrado's pretty face stiffened slightly as she beckoned Rita to come over. Upon hearing that something was wrong with His Highness, Rita immediately put aside her hostility towards Shahrado and ran straight towards where the two were.

When Rita approached and looked down, Gisela's eyes were unfocused, and there seemed to be a red mark on the tip of her nose. She was lying on the ground with a terrible expression, her golden hair was a little messy, her fox ears were drooping, and her tail was motionless. Because the towel was gone (her panties were still there), she was like a soulless shell...

This is the beautiful body of my prince, with his fair skin, delicate collarbone, pink lips, and well-proportioned breasts. Everything is so perfect... everything is so tempting to commit a crime.

"Why not take advantage of it while it's hot?" The devil's whisper flooded her mind. Rita bit her lip, took a deep breath, and tried to banish her distracting thoughts, which was clearly immoral!

Bringing her thoughts back, Rita placed her hand on Gisela's nose. Relieved to see she was still breathing, she breathed a sigh of relief. At least she was alright. Gisela's appearance was undeniably embarrassing, but as the saying goes: even heroes can't resist the charms of a beautiful woman, and all affections are worth less than a few ounces of bosom, not to mention that Shahrado's figure was far more than just a few ounces…

"I need CPR!" Rita looked up at Shahrado. Shahrado didn't say much, but simply made a gesture of invitation, because she knew she didn't know first aid. Apart from massage, the only thing she was good at was killing, although not many people really knew that.

Rita looked at the unconscious Gisela, took a deep breath to calm the corners of her mouth that had already turned up, then stood up, took a water glass from the table, took a sip, and spat the water into the bucket next to her.

"Do I need to rinse my mouth specifically to breathe?" Shahrado asked the maid with a puzzled look, but Rita, immersed in the strong sense of ritual, did not respond to her question.

PS1: If you don't vote and I don't vote, when will the cat ever get its chance?

Chapter 168 Irises Withering in the Alps: Capter 29 The Battle of Women (Seeking Votes)

Rita tidied her silver-gray hair, took a deep breath to calm herself, and then, with great elegance and composure, moved closer to Gisela's lips.

The favor bestowed by His Highness seems to have yielded a rather satisfactory result after my many years of hard work.

Even if His Highness's first time wasn't hers, those damned Prussians were truly wicked! However, Rita was quite open-minded about it. She wasn't some unreasonable jealous woman. Who hasn't been a bit flirtatious when they were young? She could forgive His Highness's past carelessness.

Just as nobles could tacitly allow their wives to go out, as long as she still loved them and maintained her feelings for them, that was enough...

Pulling herself back from her wild thoughts, Rita had successfully touched Gisela's lips. They were soft and sweet. She wanted to go further. Of course, this scene was also seen by Shahrado, who was standing to the side. Rather than saying she was giving her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, it would be more accurate to say she was watching the scumbag maid in front of her enjoy the process.

What seemed like a perfectly normal act of rescue by Shahrador inexplicably stirred a restless feeling within her. This wasn't because Shahrador liked women; it was simply because she was drawn to the interaction between beautiful things, especially since both the master and servant were indeed stunningly beautiful.

In her dazed state, Gisela seemed to feel something soft in her mouth, stirring it around with a "plop, plop" sound. She slowly opened her eyes and saw her maid's stunning face. Like a startled virgin, she abruptly sat up, and with this violent movement, their foreheads bumped together. Gisela also managed to bite Rita's tongue. Shahrado burst out laughing at this amusing scene.

"Your Highness... what are you doing?" Rita was speaking haltingly because Gisela had accidentally bitten her tongue. She covered her mouth with her right hand, her expression particularly subtle, a hint of panic showing on her usually elegant and composed face.