Third Person’s POV <fn096e> Updates are released by find[?]ovel</fn096e>


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    Fabian replied, “That’s how it’s been in previous years, but I haven’t heard specifics for this year.”


    Lycan Erasmus let out a dryugh. “Madison certainly has a ir for charity—it’smendable. Sending floral tributes and holy water from the Royal Moonlight Altar in rissa’s name to honor the forsaken dead.”


    Fabian bowed and asked, “Lycan Erasmus, shall I proceed with this matter?”


    Understanding Fabian’s unspoken question, Lycan Erasmus waved him off. “No need. If it’s for a good cause, there’s no harm in making a show of it. Let the public witness Madison’s kindness. You may begin preparations.”


    “Yes, I’ll attend to it right away,” Fabian said.


    Fabian acted swiftly and decisively, even publicizing the initiative within the pce.


    Before long, numerous noblewomen followed suit, sending flower bouquets and gifts.


    Many powerful wolf packs‘ Alphas and Lunas also extended invitations to Madison, inquiring if they might join the memorial ceremony that evening.


    This development irritated Madison.


    She had intended to use the asion to cultivate rtionships with a select fewdies, and the crowd threatened to disrupt the intimacy of the gathering.


    What if the inviteddies spotted others and grew suspicious of her motives?


    More unsettling was rissa’s unexpected involvement. rissa had always kept her distance from Madison’s affairs.


    Madison was too preupied with preparing for the evening’s events and hosting the priests invited by Hunt to delve into the matter.


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    She was unaware that Sophia had been sent to the pce for interrogation, and equally ignorant of the Cassius family’s ordeal that had involved the police.


    Madison knew thedies were trying to ingratiate themselves with rissa. While inwardly annoyed, she couldn’t afford to offend them.


    She had a history of socializing with these women and needed their support, especially with Germain fresh back in the capital.


    Their backing would also be valuable for Adide’s nned scheme on October 15th.


    Thus, Madison acquiesced and invited everyone.


    Doug’s mate, Mrs. Watson, arrived first, apanied by her granddaughter Abigail.


    Madison briefly exined the situation–the floral tributes and holy water from rissa had inspired otherdies to contribute, leading to the surge in attendees.


    Mrs. Watson reassured her, “No problem at all. All whoe with kind hearts are wee.”


    A devotee of the Moon Goddess, Mrs. Watson embracedpassion.


    Though she asionally attended banquets like Mrs. Voss, her true passion was the annual Moon Newborn Festival/


    Mrs. Watson usually didn’t bring Abigail, but this year, Abigail insisted on joining.


    The drawing–room was already adorned with a long table and a moonlight altar.


    Mrs. Watson inquired, “Has Priest Abram arrived?”


    Madison said, “He’s already here. I’ve arranged some afternoon tea for them. The ceremony doesn’t start until nightfall, and they’ve had a long journey, so I’m letting them rest for a bit.”


    Mrs. Watson replied, “That’s a good idea. Let’s keep writing memorial cards. I’ve done quite a few, but the more, the merrier.”


    Madison had considered sending someone to investigate outside but abandoned


    the idea.


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    Shortly after Mrs. Watson’s arrival, the Mrs. Kell and Mrs. Watkins also came, each with younger rtives in tow.


    At seventy–plus, Mrs. Kell was still rosy–cheeked and agile.


    She introduced to Madison, “This is my granddaughter–inw, Arethusa. She had a miscarriage a few months back. She’s joined me at this event this year, seeking some peace of mind.”


    Madison knew who she was.


    Madison gazed at her withpassion and said, “Children wille to you again. Don’t be too saddened. It’s most vital to take care of your health.”


    Arethusa bowed her head in gratitude.


    “Come now,” she added gently, “join us for afternoon tea shortly. The ceremony willmence this evening.”


    “Sure.”


    In the drawing–room, as in previous years, a long table wasid out with folding chairs ced before it.


    The attendees sat on these chairs to write memorial cards and wouldter use them during the prayer readings.


    Thedies gathered <i>one </i>by one, including Luna Cassia, Luna Sadi, and Maya.


    The neers, expecting a casual gathering, chatted animatedly upon arrival.


    Luna Sadi, eager to mingle with the capital’s elite, approached each guest with forced cordiality.


    Mrs. Watson frowned and said, “Today we gather for a solemn purpose. Let’s skip the small talk and focus on writing memorial cards. If you’re hungry, help yourself to some refreshments. But if you won’t write, at least don’t disturb others.”


    Luna Sadi felt humiliated.


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    She retorted, “It’s just a greeting. There’s no need for such rigidity, Mrs. Watson.”


    “This isn’t about rigidity. Do you understand why we’re here today? If you’ve already written your share, I wouldn’t object to your idle chatter. But you haven’t written a single card,” Mrs. Watson countered.


    Luna Sadi’s face fell. She hadn’t written any cards.


    Madison watched from the sidelines, seething with frustration.


    She had warned her to prepare, yet here she was, wasting time on empty pleasantries. What good was that?


    How useless!


    Mon, Sept