Chapter 109 Turbulent Undercurrent
**Thelma Zane’s POV**
Tracy examined me with the utmost care, her hands gentle as she tended to the superficial wounds that adorned my body. Though the cuts and bruises appeared serious, they were largely harmless, much to my mother’s relief. However, her worry had not diminished in the slightest.
As Tracy finished, my mother turned to Kara, rattling off a list of remedies and items with such fervor that I knew my next three months would involve being submerged in every health potion and restorative treatment known to the Moon Goddess.
Once my injuries were treated, I headed to the town hall, where my presence had been requested. Upon entering, I saw my parents seated on their thrones, their expressions serious. Beside them stood Duke Frank and the Southern Duke, both looking troubled. A group of unfamiliar faces clad in dark blue robes lingered in the background the Council of Elders.
At the center of the room, bound tightly to a pillar etched with spells, was the witch. Layers of enchantments cocooned her like a trapped insect, ensuring she would not escape. Her struggles were futile; the werewolf grandmasters had been thorough.
I noticed the Southern Duke staring at the witch with an expression of shock and sorrow, his lips pressed into a thin line. Duke Frank whispered something to him, his face equally grim. The atmosphere in the hall was heavy, the silence oppressive, broken only by the occasional murmured exchange.
“Thelma has arrived!” the attendant announced loudly, shattering the stillness.
As I stepped into the room, the weight of several gazes fell upon me. Some eyes were kind, others indifferent, and a few filled with unmasked hostility. The varied reactions didn’t surprise me; the Council of Elders was notorious for its divisiveness.
“Thelma, come here, my dear,” my father called, his voice a balm against the tension.
A stool had been placed beside my parents‘ thrones, a gesture that immediately drew attention. The seating arrangement was clear: my parents, myself, Duke Frank, the Southern Duke, and then the Council of Elders. This deviation from protocol clearly irked some of the elders, particularly a bald man with a sour expression.
He stepped forward, his voice sharp and condescending. “Your Majesty, with all due respect, we cannot disregard the established hierarchy. No matter how fond you are of Miss Thelma, rules should not be bent for her on such a formal occasion.”
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His face reminded me of a shriveled orange, his sagging eyes gleaming with disdain. His tone carried not just disapproval but contempt, as though my very presence offended him.
I bit back a retort, realizing this wasn’t the time for petty arguments. Still, his priorities
seemed absurd. A dangerous witch sat bound before us, and this man chose to nitpick over seating arrangements?
My father, ever the diplomat, replied calmly, “Thelma sustained injuries during today’s events. A wounded hero deserves recognition and care, does she not?”
The hall seemed ready to move on, but the bald elder refused to let it drop. “With respect, Your Majesty, even heroes must adhere to the Moon Goddess‘ laws. A person’s place in the hierarchy is sacred, determined by divine will, not personal affection.
“If Miss Thelma is allowed to bypass protocol, where does it end? Will every soldier or hero demand the same privilege? If we permit this today, we risk undermining the foundation of our society tomorrow.”
His words were laced with arrogance, his gaze daring anyone to challenge him. I stared at him, dumbfounded. How could someone be so oblivious to the larger picture? It was as if he lived in a bubble, immune to the gravity of the situation around him.
Before I could respond, another elder, a man with a long beard and flowing hair, interjected. Enough, Eric. This isn’t the time for petty disputes. We’re here to address the witch, not to quarrel over seating arrangements. Do you wish to make a mockery of this council?”
Eric sneered. “Oh, spare me your sanctimony, Lucius. You’ve spent your career brown–nosing your way through this council. It’s sycophants like you who weaken the werewolf clan.”
The tension in the room thickened as the two elders exchanged sharp words, their animosity palpable. Others began to chime in, and soon the council devolved into a chaotic debate. Voices rose, accusations flew, and the once solemn atmosphere disintegrated into discord.
My father, visibly irritated, finally bellowed, “Enough! Silence!”
The command cut through the noise like a blade. The room fell silent, the elders reluctantly biting back their arguments. My father’s authority was unquestionable, and even the most obstinate members of the council dared not defy him outright.
With order restored, my father turned his attention back to the matter at hand. “We are here to address the threat to our people, not to indulge in personal grievances. The witch before us sought to harm the werewolf tribe, and her actions demand our full attention. Any further disruptions will not be tolerated.”
His words were met with a tense silence. Even Eric, though visibly displeased, held his tongue.
I glanced at the witch, still bound and glaring at her captors. Despite her restraints, a flicker of defiance remained in her eyes. She was dangerous, and we couldn’t afford to underestimate
her.
The Southern Duke stepped forward, his voice steady but tinged with sorrow. “Your Majesty, if I may… this witch’s actions are a betrayal not just to the werewolf tribe but to all who uphold peace in this land. We must uncover her motives and the extent of her plans. I believe
she holds information that could prevent furtherh
Duke Frank nodded in agreement. “Interrogating her is our best course of action. We cannot allow atry loose ends.
My mother, who had remained silent thus far, spoke with quiet determination. “The safety of our people is paramount. We must act swiftly and decisively.
As the council deliberated, I remained seated bedde my parents, observing the interplay of power and politics. Though my presence had sparked controversy, I knew my role was far from insignificant. This was a battle not just oftrength but of strategy, and every decision made here would shape the future of our clan
bet
The storm within the town hall had yet to pass, I resolved to weather it just as we had faced the witch on the battlefield, we would face the challenges within our ranks, united in purpose aned sanyielding in ateher
Chap 15 Ovenndulgener
Chapter 110 Overindulgence
