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‘This should be good enough for Shahatra.’
Herabola was a clever man, and Henry considered that he had told him enough. He was confident that he wouldn’t need to worry about the desert king. As long as he didn’t lose his mind, Herabola would be able to deal with everything on his own now.
Besides that, Henry wasn’t worried that Herabola would go around and tell others about his so-called Future Sight, as he probably knew that it wouldn’t be any good for him if word got around.
‘Then I guess preventing his early death is the last thing remaining.’
Before, Herabola had shortly died after Herarion’s birth. Henry didn’t know the details; he had merely heard something about him contracting a disease. And that was the beginning of the tragedy of the Shahatra kingdom.
‘If Herabola had lived a long and healthy life, he would’ve taught Herarion himself. Besides, he would’ve kept the throne for longer, preserving its power.
Henry quickly finished his meal after saying everything he had wanted to say and patted Herabola on the shoulder a couple of times, letting him know that he was aware of the thoughts that were swirling in his mind.
“I’m sure you'll do so even without me telling you, but come visit once a year. That way, I can keep you updated if I get more visions about Shahatra.”
“...Thanks.”
“Of course. What’re friends for after all, right?”
Henry didn’t really have...
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