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.
How could I have allowed myself to think he had my best interests at heart? He had such control over me that I had trusted him utterly, completely. I had asked no questions; I had not stood up for myself or thought things through.
I had merely obeyed. Complied. Been conned by his own animal, bestial, uncaring needs. He took what he wanted and he left. And now here I was.
Wiping my tears away, I stared at my bedroom door, willing it to open. I’d cried into my pillow for long enough. Maria sat beside me the whole time except when she went to the door, ordering the guard to have a maid bring tea and fruit. When she arrived, she set the tray on the disrupted table and with Maria’s instruction took to cleaning the mess of water and debris from the tabletop and the floor.
“Maria…”, the maid started. “There’s…”
“Shhh.” Maria snapped back. “Clean it up. Can you not see the Princess is beside herself? Just do as I asked and take your leave.”
“Yes ma’am.” She answered as I pinched my eyes closed and tried to make the pain disappear.
A short while later, the sound of the door opening and closing only reminded me of what I wanted so badly.
I longed to hear strong footsteps to fill the hallway outside, and willing Maksim into my arms again. If only he were there, he could explain. He could protect me. But there was nothing. And no one. I was adrift at sea all by myself. I eased myself down onto the bed, shivering until Maria wrapped me in my robe.
“Was there any sign of Maksim before you came to me?” I asked.
Maria shook her head slowly as she fussed with my hair trying to soothe. “No. And I noticed this morning that his horse is gone, too.”
One day drifted sickeningly into the next. Three days, four, five days passed. I was a prisoner in my own chambers for all that time. Maria was allowed to come and go to bring me food and whatever else I needed, but I was not free. I was caged and isolated, unable to defend myself. Shock went into sadness, then sadness into anger, until I had spent so many hours fuming as I walked back and forth across my quarters that I burned up all my anger, only to be left with sadness again.
Late on the fifth day, the guards allowed me to leave my room although they followed me everywhere.
I didn’t ask why. I didn’t care.
All that mattered as I stepped out into the hallway was taking the proof of my sin back into my chambers. I folded it up and it joined the other sheet, in a laundry hamper that Maria knew better than to take just yet.