The Theory of the State: That Long Achievement (2)

Sway, sway, sway.

A shoe was swinging from the tip of Ophelia’s foot.

Under normal circumstances, the lecture hall should have been filled with lively chatter as everyone exchanged the contents of their reports until the very end.

But with the august princess of the Empire making it clear that she was even slightly displeased, who would dare so much as open their mouth?

And so.

Sway, sway.

Scratch, scratch.

In time with the rhythmic sway of her shoe, the only sound filling the lecture hall was the diligent scratching of pens against paper.

And finally.

“The language of our land── differs from China──”...