I was so ashamed, so mortified, that I ran naked to the door, stumbling into the table as I rushed past, hearing a clunk as I disrupted the items on the tabletop, then I heard water splattering onto the floor behind me along with the crash of crystal as the water pitcher met the stone on the floor.
Ignoring the mess I’d made, I cracked the door barely an inch, and tried to yank the half sheet inside. But as I did, the door was drawn shut, nearly pinching my fingers.
“I’m sorry, my lady,” said a strong, ferocious male voice from outside. “I’m under orders. This cannot be removed.”
Orders. That meant one of two things—either the king had ordered that they be left there, or Maksim had. And it certainly wasn’t the king, since he was many miles and several kingdoms away. So that left one possibility. The worst of all. It was Maksim’s doing. He had done this. And he was holding me hostage inside my room, powerless to stop the world from knowing what we had done.
I lurched forward, feeling sick again. My knees wobbled and the room spun. I pounded on the door with heel of my hand.
“What do you mean?” I said, jiggling the knob, yanking at the door with all my strength to try to open it. “It’s my room. It’s my…” My what? I asked myself. My virginity, my sin, my… shame. “Please,” I begged. “You must let me take it.”
“No, my lady. I cannot and I will not.” A scraping sound of steel against stone on the other side of the door told me that the guard had jammed his sword against the knob.
I buried my face in my hands, willing myself to wake up from this nightmare. But the harder I tried to force myself into consciousness, the more real the situation became.
Maria had said it was out both my window and my door. My chamber door was, in fact, the lesser of the two evils. These were my private quarters; the only people that would be passing were servants, which was awful in and of itself, but nothing compared with all of Estana being able to see the proof of my lost maidenhead.
“Take it inside,” I said to her. “Maria, take the sheet in!”
She nodded, quickly, and darted through to the window of my dressing room, throwing it open to the sound of laughter from below. Maria’s snarl shocked me; I’d never heard her angry before. “Shut up, you little bitches! Talking about your princess like that will get you hanged!”
She grunted with effort as she tugged on the sheet, and in a daze I went to join her at the window. Down below, I saw—to my absolute horror—a small cluster of women gathered, laughing as they pointed up at my window and at me.
“Aye, there she is!” One of them yelled. “Princess Impure herself!”
Oh no, no, no, no. Pressing my hand to my lips, I sank to my knees, surrounded by the torn, stained, filthy sheet. Tears flooded into my eyes, making everything go blurry…all but the red stain. That was as clear as clear could be. The flame in an otherwise darkened room.
My blood had been out there for all to see. I had no idea how long it had been hanging there, but it didn’t matter. The damage was done. The women were talking. My shameful ruin would be on everyone’s lips, if it wasn’t already.
“Who did this?” Maria said, helping me up from the floor.
The shame poured from me in wracking sobs. Maria pulled me close, trying desperately to comfort me. It was no use. This was a hurt that couldn’t be soothed. “Maksim,” I sobbed into her shoulder. “It was Maksim.”
Maria stiffened. “That brute,” she growled. “He forced himself?”
Even in my shame, I couldn’t bear the thought of her thinking such a thing. “No,” I gasped. “Of course not. No. He said that was how we would be married. He said this was the old way.”
She said nothing in response, except for a surprised gasp. I pulled away from our embrace so I could get a look at her face, to read her expression. Much to my amazement, her eyes looked sultry and interested.
“Oh really? That’s awfully…” She drew her eyes away from mine, searching for the words.
Horrifying? Disgusting? “Embarrassing?” I offered, to complete her sentence, with a fresh wave of nausea.
“I was going to say romantic, but is that even legitimate anymore? Is that even recognized as a real wedding these days?” Her tone was genuinely curious, not skeptical or judgmental.
The fact that Maria seemed to approve of what had happened didn’t make me feel any better. As for myself, I had nothing but the harshest judgment for what I had done. I am nothing but a stupid, ignorant, gullible girl.