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Getting up, day in and day out, was going through the motions for Morana. Everyday was just as the last, schemes and meetings. Throwing whatever hair-brained idea Carmilla concocted into something tangible and executing it. If she was wanted to be honest, Morana was growing tired of it all.
She just wanted to allow herself whatever time she could afford with her wife. Maybe back in her old days, when she was human, Morana could have handled the politics of the ancient kingdoms but it was different now.
She grew tired of it, and putting on her signature earrings every day only reminded her of the legacy destiny forged for her. She received them back in the old days, when she was placed inherited one of Sumeria’s cities back in their Golden Age.
They were all old in their own way, but as the eldest of the four of them, Morana was tired. Exhausted even under the façade of silken garments and the blue dye that painted her eyes. In the centuries that followed after Striga had joined them, it all seemed worth it to Morana then.
If there was ever one thing Carmilla was good for, it was for the union of her and her hallowed knight. Perhaps it was time for a change, one where she and Striga would make their own schemes or create whatever it was that pleased them. Become their own queens and empresses.