After a brief pause, Sarika said solemnly, "Before we announce anything to the world, we should first convene a council eting and decide collectively. This is a matter of great importance. I believe the council has the right to hear it before anyone else. We can make a public declaration after the eting concludes."
Erevan nodded. "I agree with you. Then I shall call an ergency council eting for tomorrow at 12 GMT."
Sarika gave a small approving smile. "That would be best for everyone. No matter where they are, all mbers should be able to attend by that ti."
Without hesitation, Erevan picked up his phone and dialed his secretary. "Call an ergency council eting tomorrow at 12 GMT. It’s mandatory... everyone must be present," he said firmly, then ended the call.
After setting down the phone, he looked at the priest, who was sitting calmly, her face serene, unaffected by the storm brewing around them. A sigh escaped his lips as he regarded her peaceful deanor.
"How can you be so carefree all the ti?" he asked, his voice tinged with frustration and admiration.
Sarika’s gaze remained steady. "It’s a matter of choice, Your Highness. What has already happened is out of our hands. What will happen is inevitable. The only thing we can control is how we face it. Fate is a cruel and indifferent force. No matter how much we try, we cannot escape it. And believe , I’ve tried."
She looked into the distance, her expression shadowed by old pain. After a short pause, she continued, her voice soft and reflective. "Many years ago, I had a vision of my son being buried alive under a landslide in the other world, during a battle with an earth elental. Desperate to save him, I forbade him from going to the other world."
Her eyes dimd with sorrow. "Then, one day, I fell ill and needed a rare herb to concoct a healing pill. My son volunteered to travel to the Himalayas to find it, accompanied by several of our clansn. They never returned. An earthquake struck the region and caused a massive landslide. All of them perished."
A tear rolled down her cheek. "In my vision, only my son had died. But by trying to prevent his fate, I inadvertently caused the deaths of several others. I altered the outco... but at what cost?"
She let the silence stretch for a mont, her voice barely above a whisper now. "You are the first person I’ve ever told about that tragedy. You lost your father in an event you couldn’t control. But I lost my son because I tried to fight fate. In my vision, he was buried, not confird dead. He might’ve survived, which I don’t know. Imagine that burden, Your Highness."
The room fell into a heavy silence. Both of them stared at the throne room doors, lost in thoughts of their past mistakes and their uncertain futures.
After what felt like an eternity, Sarika spoke again. "Your Highness, we must prepare before the council eting. According to our traditions, if a reigning king dies while still on the throne, the werewolf clans enter a mourning period of one year. Only after that can the coronation of the new king be held."
She turned her eyes toward him. "Since we won’t be making the news public until tomorrow’s eting, I suggest we place our forces on standby. We must be ready. Otherwise, a power vacuum could lead to chaos during this transitional period."
Sarika hesitated, then continued more seriously, "Your Highness, I suggest you unofficially assu the role of king during tomorrow’s eting. You have already been fulfilling royal duties for the past thirty years, in everything but title. It won’t feel different to us, but it will show strength and stability to outsiders... especially those who might try to exploit the situation. Then, after the official mourning period, we will hold your coronation."
Erevan raised an eyebrow. "And how do we do that without a coronation ceremony?"
"It’s quite simple," Sarika replied. "One of the council mbers needs to formally propose you as king, and the rest must unanimously support the motion. Unlike other council matters, this one requires all ten mbers to agree. But from what I know, all of them respect and support you. It should go smoothly."
Erevan stood slowly from the throne, his expression thoughtful. "Then I’ll follow your suggestion."
He turned to Sarika. "I need so rest. Thank you for your ti and your counsel."
Sarika stood as well, placing a hand over her chest and bowing respectfully. "It is always my honor to serve you, Your Highness."
After Erevan left the throne room, Sarika also stepped outside. Her secretary had been waiting patiently in the corridor.
Seeing her, he approached with a slight bow. "Reverend, the young miss of the Raynor Clan called earlier. She requested a eting with you."
Sarika tilted her head, surprised. "Did she ntion the reason?"
"No," the secretary replied. "She simply said she needed to speak with you and that she got my number from her clan head."
Sarika thought for a mont, then nodded. "We’ll be in Greece for two more days before returning to India. Arrange a eting and ask her to visit my temple. Among all the next clan heads, she’s the only one who hasn’t paid tribute to our ancestors."
"As you wish, Reverend," he said. "Shall we return to your villa now?"
"Yes, let’s go," Sarika replied.
The secretary walked down the steps and signaled the driver. The car pulled up promptly. Sarika followed, both of them entering the vehicle, which drove off through the quiet streets.
***
anwhile, Eleanor brought Freya to visit Isabella at Hope Specialized Hospital. As they walked down the corridor, they ran into Edward Miller, who had just finished visiting his granddaughter, Anabel Miller.
"Good evening, Miss Raynor," he greeted warmly. "It’s a pleasure to see you here."
Eleanor returned the smile. "Good evening. I ca to visit Aunt Bella. By the way, thank you for your support to her. She’s recovering quickly, and the care she’s receiving has been wonderful."
Edward waved off the complint. "Don’t ntion it. I owe you more than you realize. You gave my granddaughter a second chance. I’ll never forget that. If there’s ever anything you need, just say the word."
He then noticed the little girl beside Eleanor. "And who is this?"
"She’s my daughter," Eleanor replied, beaming with pride. "Freya, say hello to Grandpa Miller."
Freya looked up at the kindly man with wide eyes and a shy smile. "Hello, Grandpa Miller," she said, her voice light and cheerful.
Edward chuckled warmly, his heart lting at the girl’s innocence. "Well, hello to you too, young lady. You’ve got your mother’s eyes."
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