Chapter 128: The Calm After the Storm.
Thelma Zane’s POV
Life had become unusually quiet. The hectic days of strategizing and staying constantly on edge had come to an abrupt halt, leaving me in unfamiliar territory. Relaxation was foreign to me, and I wasn’t sure how to navigate it.
Dorothy, however, had her opinions. “Before you complain about boredom,” she said, exasperated, “maybe stop coming over eight times a day to interrupt my work.”
She sat across from me, an old book resting in her hands, while I sprawled on the sofa, enjoying the warm sunlight streaming through the window,
“How is this interrupting?” I replied with mock indignation. “I’m simply embracing the wisdom I read in a human philosophy book recently: ‘Life is short, so savor it while you Doesn’t that resonate with you?”
can.‘
Dorothy rolled her eyes, unimpressed. “If you keep up this ‘savoring life‘ nonsense in my room, both the King and Queen might just exile us to human society. Then you’ll have all the time in the world to read their philosophy books!
Our lighthearted bickering carried us through the morning, each remark a reminder of how much I valued these small, peaceful moments.
By lunchtime, however, I could no longer hide from my responsibilities.
“Make sure you have an extra portion of lamb ribs for me,” Dorothy teased with feigned wistfulness. “It’s a tragedy I’m not attending the luncheon. I’ll just stay here, reading and sleeping. Such a dull life for a ‘peasant‘ like me.”
I didn’t dignify her gloating with a response and reluctantly headed to the luncheon. It wasn’t that I disliked such gatherings, but the thought of facing certain people filled me with unease.
The southern Duke, for instance, was someone I had conflicting feelings about. I respected his contributions to our society but couldn’t overlook his indecisiveness in matters of the heart. His tangled love life had sown the seeds of tragedy, and I found it hard to reconcile the man with his legacy.
Then there was Carolyn, his daughter, who was a stark contrast to Adele. Carolyn was everything Adele wasn’t–poised, graceful, and exuding an air of nobility.
And that, ironically, was the problem.
Unlike Carolyn, I hadn’t grown up steeped in aristocratic traditions. My formative years were spent in ordinary surroundings, mingling with everyday people. My friends were girls from modest families, and our interactions were casual, free of the pressures and expectations that
came with noble titles.
Chapte: 128. The Calm After the Stowin
But Carolyn was different. Even in casual conversation, her refinement was evident. Our discussion meandered into topics of theology and philosophy, realms I was utterly unprepared for. While I had deep respect for the Moon Goddess, I couldn’t claim to be well–versed in theology. Philosophy, on the other hand, was a subject I had only skimmed in passing.
For most of my life, my education had been practical and straightforward. I had learned the basics, with the occasional life lesson sprinkled in by my teachers. Deep philosophical musings and theological debates were entirely outside my realm of expertise.
This left me feeling awkward and out of place.
Carolyn, ever the considerate one, must have sensed my discomfort. With a polite smile, she gracefully shifted the conversation elsewhere, sparing me further embarrassment.
The luncheon itself was a farewell gathering. The southern Duke and Carolyn were preparing to return to their pack that afternoon.
My father, always the diplomat, tried to persuade the Duke to stay, offering him his previous official position. But the Duke, visibly weary and disheartened, politely declined. His decision. was firm, and my father, though reluctant, respected his wishes.
When the time for goodbyes came, there was a heaviness in the air. My father, ever composed, couldn’t hide his melancholy. Watching him send off his old friend, I was reminded of the fleeting nature of life’s connections.
As the convoy prepared to depart, my father arranged for a team of guards to accompany them, ensuring their safety on the journey home. We stood in silence, watching the carriages
ar into the distance.
I glanced at my father, noting the quiet sorrow etched into his expression. His work often demanded unwavering strength, but moments like this revealed the emotional toll it took.
That somber mood lingered in me as well, and I found myself holding Aldrich’s hand tightly. He gave me a reassuring smile, his silent presence a comfort in the midst of the day’s emotional weight.
The days that followed were uneventful, though not without their frustrations.
The Council of Elders, never ones to miss an opportunity for meddling, debated endlessly over Adele’s fate. Unable to sway my father’s decision, they resorted to nitpicking trivial matters, attempting to hinder him in other ways.
Eventually, my father had enough. He dealt decisively with an elder who had been caught in a blatant act of corruption, silencing the others in the process.
To my surprise, the elder in question was Lucius, someone I had always thought of as a staunch supporter of my father.
When I asked about it, my father offered a piece of wisdom. “Thelma, never assume you truly
Change 128 The Calin Aber the Stonn
know someone. Not every friend is a true ally, and not every enemy is entirely wicked. People are complex, and no single aspect defines them completely.”
His words stayed with me, a reminder of the complexities of leadership and human nature.
Our investigation into the shadowy forces behind Adele continued, but progress was slow. The only lead we had was a name: Kafka.
Kafka was a dark wizard whose infamy in the
valed that of Fitch. Both had played key t Wolf–Witch War, their actions causing devastation not only among werewolves but other races as well.
After the war’s conclusion, Kafka had disappeared, likely aware of the countless enemies he had made. For over twenty years, there had been no trace of him, and this frustrating absence left our investigation stagnant.
Despite these challenges, life carried on. The storm that had loomed over us for so long had passed, but its echoes lingered, a reminder of the battles fought and the scars left behind. For now, all we could do was wait and prepare for whatever lay ahead.
Chapter 129 A New Path
