As these days, the ministers were quickly put into combat readiness, and the court meeting ended quickly.

Seeing Atifa pounce on the table and write and draw for a while, a palace maid came over with a kettle, and she said tremblingly.

"Your Majesty Atifa."

As she spoke, she lifted the lid of her teacup, but the tea in the cup remained untouched.

Atifa raised her right hand and shook her slender wrist.

"How many times have I said it, I'm not cold, if you're cold, I'll give you clothes to wear."

"But ......"

The palace maid made a bitter face, "But this is what Lord Nanhart meant, he said that it is still the beginning of spring, and he is always afraid that you will freeze." ”

“......”

Atifa grabbed the quill pen and shook it aside, it was winter, and the ink was a little unusable.

"Go get Southhart over."

"Yes."

The palace maid breathed a sigh of relief and left with broken steps.

Atifa scratched the back of her hand with a quill pen and saw the ink appear before she wrote and drew in her notebook, one of the vices she developed while playing Oreo.

Footsteps clicked from the other side, and Atifa didn't lift his head.

"How many times do you want me to repeat the same thing?"

Nanhart was a non-talker, and he stopped in front of Atifa, looking her up and down.

Atifa didn't look at him, staring straight at the note.

"I'm asking you."

Nanhart remained silent, and although he was a shy young man, yes, he was not as eccentric as he was today.

Atifa frowned and looked up, seeing a face full of cramps.

"Who did you just talk to?"

Reka shrugged her shoulders and said knowingly, "Could it be Nanhart?" ”

Atifa rolled her eyes.

"My friend, is the City Patrol Bureau's case not enough to be adjudicated or does the court not have to hold a trial?"

"Hey, the court doesn't sit today on Sunday."

Reka looked at the doorway, then leaned closer, "I just saw Nanhart take something from the palace maid, and it's being carefully wrapped, maybe it's a gift for you." ”

Atifa said coldly.

"If he dares to give it to me, I'll blow him up."

Hearing footsteps at the door, Reka whistled and stood straight in front of Atifa, and he opened his mouth to come.

"The number of prisoners applying for amnesty has increased dramatically these days, although the Okassim constitution has been promulgated, and according to the principle of precedence of Turin law, those prisoners are not included in the scope of amnesty, but because of the special case of Duke Kherson, many old fellows have begun to write amnesty letters, and the various prison directors and I are uneducated people, and we are simply too busy, so we urgently need manpower."

"Hoo ......."

Atifa rubbed his eyebrows, it is a time of war, and the courts of Turin have been tried in accordance with the Ocassim regulations, as long as they do not commit heinous crimes, they can basically be released, but the price is to join the Black Eagle Army or the Thunder Lion Army.

But those minor nobles and commoners were let go, and the nobles who were still lucky enough to occupy a place in the prison were all great nobles who had committed the death penalty but failed to carry it out for various reasons, and they still had great influence on the Okassim Empire, and now these people want to apply for a pardon.

Some of them do have feelings for the Okassim Empire, but who knows if they will hold a grudge against Atifa's suppression.

Atifa's headache wasn't actually these, her headache was actually Nanhart.

Sure enough, as Reka had said, Nanhart was holding a gift box and was cautiously walking from the other end of the walk.

Nanhart is the Minister of the Interior hand-picked by Atifa, and since he took office for a month, he has been diligent and clever, but the fly in the ointment is that he always nods his head too much about Atifa, which makes Atifa feel hairy.

Reka squinted at Nanhart, who was about the same height as herself, with long, docile blue hair, a single eye on her right eye, and a blue pupil on her left.

"Your Majesty, this is ......"

Nanhart approached Atifa and was about to say something, but was interrupted by Atifa.

"How many times do you want me to repeat the same thing?"

The quill pen scribbled something on the paper, and Nanhart was silent, and Atifa didn't raise his head, "I'm asking you." ”

Nanhart opened his mouth, looking a little aggrieved.

"Your Majesty, this is ......"

"Nanhart."

Putting down the quill pen, Atifa looked up, she deliberately put her right hand over her left hand, and the diamond ring on her ring finger sparkled, it was a diamond-encrusted Ring of Grafit.

"What's that in your hand?"

Nanhart shrunk his neck and slurped.

"Gift ......"

Artifamo holds the diamond ring.

"What gift?"

Nanhart rolled his eyes up and down, uncertain.

“...... A birthday present? ”

"I don't need a birthday present,"

Atifa's tone was still gentle, and she was about to lift the diamond ring under Nanhart's nose, "And more importantly, it's my birthday tomorrow, not today." ”

"I think it's weird too."

Nanhart nodded, gesturing to place the gift in Attifa's hand.

Atifa jumped up from her chair, four clusters of orange light lit up under her eyes, and she stared at Nanhart with long, dark narrow, eyes, and a voice from the deepest part of her throat.

"I'm not cold, and I don't need a gift, do you understand?"

"Know ......"

Nanhart's face turned pale, and he was almost frightened to faint when he saw a dragon head suddenly grow on his snow-white body, but he still stood stupidly with his fists clenched. His teeth chattered up and down, but he couldn't say a word.

Reka craned her neck to the side, whispering to Nanhart's voice.

"Squeak Squeak ......"

"Reka!"

Atifa slapped him out, and Reka was quickly embedded in the brick crack.

Seeing this terrible scene, Nanhart finally couldn't hold on, he rolled his eyes, and simply fell to the ground neatly.

"Come over to me."

Artifa cut her forehead, and the scales on her face dissipated one after another.

Reka took a deep breath and pulled his arm out of the wall, muttering.

"I don't know why you women are so scary."

"Chief Reka."

Atifa clasped his fingers together and stared straight into Reka's eyes. "Do you need me to solve what you just said?"

Although her emerald green eyes were clear, Reka always felt a golden flame dancing in them, and he avoided his gaze and shook his head repeatedly.

"Those old guys don't want to get out of prison in their lives, unless their juniors have made great achievements on the battlefield."

Atifa waved his hand as if to drive away flies.

"That's it, take him out."

Reka reached out and grabbed Nanhart's ankle and dragged him out, his long blue hair like a blue mop.

After taking two steps, he suddenly stopped.

"My friend, is it your birthday tomorrow?"

Atifa looked down at what she had written in her notes, only to hear her mutter.

"Yes and what."

：。 ：