Lina sat in the dimly lit room, her thoughts a chaotic swirl of confusion and denial.
The events of the previous night gnawed at her mind, a nightmare that refused to let go.
Her husband, Lyuzen, died at the hands of their son?
It was inconceivable.
She shook her head, refusing to accept the reality that had been thrust upon her.
No, Lyuzen couldn't die like that.
He was strong, powerful—nothing like their foolish, weak son Lyerin.
Lina's thoughts twisted in a tangled mess of denial and contempt.
Lyerin was nothing to her, just a shadow of the offspring she had truly loved.
He was the disgrace of the family, the one without a Shadow Core, the mark of true power within the Borgias lineage.
That deficiency alone had planted the seeds of hatred in Lina's heart from the moment she had given birth to him.
