Gevehardt pulled the shades in his small study. It was too unnerving to look out at the greenhouse at this time of day and see no movement.

  He pulled the first sheet of vellum from the stack. The first letter would go to the President. The second, to the Dowager Council. The third letter had to go to the Istroa Sanctum, to alert the clergy so they could address the issue with their flock. The fourth would head to the newspaper, for anyone not connected with the previous three bodies.

  While the news of Iphan’s passing would be met with the requisite sympathies and public displays of grief, what would actually set the emotions of Ishvara into turmoil would be that there was no one to open the Rite.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  She had placed the valet in a very precarious position. It was established practice that a Rite was never closed by a single Siro, she knew this. There was no proof, but the assumption was that closing a Rite alone could result in death, and therefore no more Siro. No more Rite. No more balance.

  Gevehardt now had to decide if he would explain to the Council and the rest of Ishvara why the only remaining Siro in the nation was unavailable, or if he should obfuscate. If Dyathne failed on her Ashwalk, the nation would be without a Siro. But if she succeeded...

  He pinched the bridge of his nose.

  When he was finished with the four copies of this letter, he promised himself he’d write one of his own.

  His resignation.