47. Lenna
47
Lenna
E ven if the North House hadn’t felt welcoming, Borealia was as busy and full of life as always. Lenna had decided to visit the nightclub where all the Elite bullshitters were less likely to go with their expensive clothes and drugs.
The Broken Spine was too dark for their souls. Circular black leathered couches filled the walls of private spaces separated by Cardinal-red curtains, round obsidian tables crowning the center of each cubicle.
Lenna had been drinking myster for the Fifth knew how many hours, and it was already ante meridiem if the flickering stars across the dark window were any sign. All her company was the loud beat of the music thundering against the growing haziness of her mind as each glass disappeared.
She sent ink to Theon, unsure about its reachability, but was anything sure in her life anymore?
She sighed. Her life was a fucking mess.
It had been long since she had realized that her parents didn’t care about her. Not in any way that was not as the heir, or as a political daughter. Not in any way that mattered. She didn’t even think they knew her, or had cared enough to know her. Truly her.
As for knowing them, the beings behind the titles of Ruler of the North House and his wife, Lenna had given up many years ago. There had been too many useless attempts at having any sort of connection with them, always followed by a dismissal or a fucking excuse. As if they couldn’t give a damn about spending quality time with their daughter. As if she wasn’t worth it.
None of this was new. But it was still hurtful to realize how the two people meant to love her most didn’t give a fucking shit about her.
Lenna chugged another half glass of myster down, the liquid burning down her throat almost pleasant as she drowned those feelings down her soul, as she had always done.
The lack of her powers was a fucking source of pain, too. One she would have to learn to live with.
She had royally fucked up. Yet she didn’t regret it. She would never regret not bending in front of someone like the Organ Mandor. She would never regret standing up for her beliefs and her truth. And if these were the Cardinals-damned consequences, so be it.
She would rather not be a panom anymore than shut her mouth in front of injustices and ask such a motherfucker for forgiveness. Forgiveness for what ? For not accepting that she had no voice in such a broken society? For not accepting that some males thought she was inferior because she was born a female ?
The Organ Mandor was a fucking idiot if he truly believed that, wanting to obliterate the fact that the five female damned Cardinals had created his nation, and that the damn Cardinal Queen had been precisely that. A queen . Not a king.
Even with her thoughts blurred between the myster and the anger, she had her next steps clear.
Lenna would return to Corentre, to check in with Ciaran after his punishment, to see if Indianna had any other information about Raoul. The brilliant minds of that bunch could surely work out a plan to remove Raoul from the claws of the Organ Mandor. She was looking forward to seeing Sasha as well, to exchange smut books and stupid jokes. And most importantly, she was looking forward to other unfinished business. So she willed her golden ink into the ether, without giving it a second thought.