The chamber was silent, lit only by the faint flicker of a candle. The tension in the air was so thick it could be sliced with a knife.
Zhanna stood at the edge of the bed, arms crossed, her back stiff. Shura mirrored her from the opposite side, equally uncomfortable.
"So..." Shura began, clearing his throat. "This is awkward."
"You think?" Zhanna deadpanned, eyeing the massive bed between them like it was a battlefield.
They stared at each other in silence for a beat before Zhanna spoke again.
"We're not really doing this, right?"
Shura shook his head quickly. "Absolutely not."
A sigh of relief escaped her lips. "Thank the stars."
"But," he added, rubbing the back of his neck, "they're going to check the sheets tomorrow."
Zhanna groaned and sat down on the bed. "Of course they will. Can't they just take our word for it?"
"They're royals, Zhanna. In this place, blood equals proof."
She rolled her eyes. "Fine. We'll fake it."
"How?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"We'll pour wine. Something dark. Something red. We sleep, we stain, and voila- consummated."
Shura blinked. "That's... actually clever."
"I know," she said smugly. "Now get under the covers, I'm tired."
Shura took some pillows and a blanket, and instead of getting on the bed, he lay on the soft bedding of the floor.
"Are you comfortable sleeping on the floor?" Zhanna asked Shura, slightly concerned."Yes. I don't want to give you any discomfort," Shura said knowingly.
Zhanna didn't ask any more questions, as she didn't want to sleep on the same bed with a man. She felt guilty though, and wanted to invite him to sleep on the bed, but when she opened her mouth, no words came out.
Slowly but steadily, Zhanna and Shura soon fell asleep, and everywhere was silent.
...
Some hours into the night, the silence of the royal chamber was shattered by a soft, muffled groan.
Shura stirred from his makeshift bed on the floor, pillows clumsily stacked beneath him. He rubbed his eyes, turning toward the figure curled in the large bed.
"Zhanna?" he called softly. "Is everything alright?"
Another groan. Then a sharp hiss.
"I'm fine," she gritted out.
"You don't sound fine."
He rose to his feet and approached. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her stomach, and even in the dim light, he saw the beads of sweat on her forehead.
"I said I'm..." Her words faltered as she shifted. That's when he saw it.
A dark stain spreading beneath her on the sheets.
Shura's heart dropped. "You're bleeding."
"I know," she said softly through clenched teeth. "My monthlies have begun. It's normal."
His brows furrowed. "Monthlies? Are you unwell?"
"A little, but I'm not dying, Shura."
He didn't wait for another word. With swift, practiced movements, he wrapped her in the blanket and scooped her into his arms.
"What are you doing?!" she gasped.
"Taking you to the infirmary."
"..." Zhanna was speechless, shock evident on her face.
"You're bleeding and in pain. I'm not leaving that to guesswork," Shura continued.
He pushed open the chamber door and stepped into the early morning corridor.
...
The door across the hall cracked open. Vika, groggy and disoriented, blinked as she stepped out.
"Shura?" she mumbled. Her eyes widened when she saw Zhanna in his arms. "Is she okay?!"
"She said she's on her monthlies. I have no idea what that means," he said with a tone of urgency. "So, I'm taking her to the infirmary."
"Oh! All right," Vika said at first, then she remembered what Shura said and mumbled, "You're taking a person having their monthlies to the infirmary?"
Vika grabbed her shawl. "On second thought, wait! I'm coming with you."
...
Boris stood outside his chamber. He felt suffocated lying next to Ulyana and couldn't be at ease with the thought of Zhanna in another man's hands. Boris looked unto the palace gates—their color reminded him of Zhanna's eyes... blue.
"Ah! What..."
And then he saw it.
Shura, striding across the courtyard with Zhanna bundled in his arms, Vika trailing behind them with worry etched across her face.
Boris' breath caught.
His eyes followed them, his jaw tightening with every step they took.
Why was he carrying her?
Why did it look so… intimate?
A storm of emotions twisted in his chest- anger, confusion, and something else he refused to name. Jealousy? No. Of course not.
Still, his fists clenched by his side.
He said nothing. But his silence burned.
...
At the infirmary
Zhanna lay under thick covers, sipping warm herbal tea as the healer finally left. Her face had regained some of its color, though she playfully glared at Shura from her pillow.
"You're insane," she muttered, smiling.
"You were in pain and bleeding. I panicked," Shura justified himself.
"I told you it was my monthlies," Zhanna grinned.
"I've never handled this before, alright?" he said, a hint of embarrassment creeping in. "They didn't exactly teach us how to handle women's monthly misfortunes at sword training."
"You acted like I was dying."
"I thought you were!"
Vika chuckled from the corner. "You should have seen his face, Zhanna... so very serious."
Shura groaned. "Please stop talking."
The door creaked open and Kazmir strolled in, suppressing a smirk the moment he saw them.
"Well, well, well," he said. "I heard someone mistook monthlies for a mortal wound."
Shura threw him a look. "Not. A. Word."
"Too late," Kazmir joked, grinning. "I'm already telling this at dinner."
"How did you know we were here?" Vika asked.
"I saw you all, scampering and rushing! I'm an officer. I was trained to hear even the slightest of noises," Kazmir said.
The next dayBoris was extra grumpy today. The scene from last night simply refused to leave his head, and when he saw them talking and laughing, it just added more fuel to the fire. At one point, he wanted to shout, "Get your hands off my wife!" But he remembered, she was not his... not anymore.
Later that day, it was announced that Boris' sister would be arriving at Volkorod. She was finally done with her training at the Institute for Noble Maidens.
Zhanna looked at herself in the mirror."Not too much makeup... just right," she whispered to herself.
She thought about Boris' sister. Did she remember her? Of course, she did. But the young girl had posed no threat in her previous life. If she could remember clearly, Vasilisa (Boris' sister) had been married off immediately after her return.
Zhanna furrowed her brows as she stared at herself in the mirror.There was something she was forgetting, something that happened after Vasilisa's return. She just couldn't put her finger on it.It was like the more she thought about it, the more she forgot. She knew she was forgetting something important, but didn't know what.
"Oh well," she eventually gave up thinking and joined Shura in the throne room to wait for Vasilisa. Zhanna peeked out the window and into the main courtyard to see the arriving princess.
Of course, nothing had changed.
Vasilisa soon arrived at the throne room. With bright smiles, she greeted everyone. She secretly ogled her adopted stepbrother, now a prince- Shura. She wanted to hug him. She needed to hug him. So, she hugged Boris and then went to Shura with open arms, expecting him to accept the hug like Boris did.
Shura gave her a pat on the shoulder and welcomed her, his other hand wrapped around Zhanna's waist as though declaring to Vasilisa, "I'm married now!" He knew she fancied him.
Vasilisa smiled awkwardly and glared at Zhanna, refusing to meet her for a greeting before walking away.
Zhanna frowned."Was it ever my intention to extend her a greeting?" she reasoned.
...
Kazmir and Shura were alone in the palace library."How was the outing yesterday? Anything I need to know about?" Kazmir asked Shura.
Shura shook his head at first, then he remembered."The strangest thing happened yesterday. We were almost attacked by Morozko. It was ready to charge at me but took one glance at Zhanna and scampered away in fear."
Kazmir paused, eyes distant, as if contemplating something just out of reach. Then he reached for a book and showed it to Shura. The title was:
"The King of All Supernatural Creatures – Witches!"