CHAPTER 158: RED MORNING

Jenna had laughed too much that evening.

It was the kind of laughter that carried no grace, full-throated and loud with no elegance. The kind that made her forget for a moment that her world was half a ruin.

Olivia had dragged her into the rain, and God help her— Jenna loved every bit of it. From the rich smell of the earth that reeked of red soil and hope, to the angry face of Lady Rachel that looked even more shocked when they bolted. Jenna even forgot she had cried earlier.

By the time they returned, Jenna’s cheeks ached from smiling. She didn’t even feel the need to eat; the laughter and panic had filled her belly well enough. She went straight to her chamber, stripped herself of the wet dress and the noise of the day, and let the warm bathwater hold her.

When she slipped beneath the sheets, the moon was already pale, half-hidden behind restless clouds. Sleep should have come easily. But it didn’t, not easily, at least.

Jenna tossed, turned, kicked at the blanket, and then drew it close again. Her body couldn’t find peace. There was a heaviness pressing down below her stomach not pain at first, but a dull throb.

Earlier, when she danced under the rain, she had felt it faintly. But now, as she tried to sleep, it worsened. By midnight, it sharpened. A sting.

"Mm," Jenna moaned in her sleep, a pulse that made her gasp softly in the dark.

Her palms pressed against her abdomen; her breath came uneven. "You’re not dying, Jenna," she murmured with a strained voice, "it’s probably just something you ate."

But then again... she hadn’t eaten. Not since breakfast the previous day.

By the time the night tilted toward dawn, the pain had bloomed fully. Jenna had drifted in and out of half-sleep that cruel kind that lets you rest just long enough to remember what comfort felt like before snatching it away again. Every turn in bed made her wince. Sweat dampened her temples; her thighs pressed tightly together. There was a strange heat crawling through her lower belly.

When the first light broke across her window, casting its glow on her face, Jenna woke suddenly. Something didn’t feel right her body was heavy, her skin clammy, and there was that... warmth.

She sat up slowly. And that’s when she felt it.

Hot. Wet. Seeping through the thin linen of her undergarments. Jenna’s hand moved down, trembling. The moment her fingers brushed against it, the smell hit her metallic, sharp, unmistakable. Iron.

"No." Jenna’s stomach dropped in fear as her eyes fell on her bed.

The sheets beneath her were stained deep, spreading red. For a long moment, she just stared at it, the world around her shrinking into silence. Her mind was sluggish from exhaustion and half-restless sleep.

It was her womanly flow.

Jenna exhaled shakily, her eyes unfocused. She should’ve felt relief, it was natural, expected. But something about the sight, about the way it had come after a night of pain and unrest, made her chest tighten.

She dragged herself out of bed, feeling sore and weak in the knees, with a sharp pain cutting across her lower back. The air in the room was cold against her skin.

Jenna stood near her bed, one hand gripping the bedpost, staring at the mess like it was some strange omen.

Outside, the rooster crowed, lazy, half-hearted sound, like it wasn’t prepared to announce a new day.

Jenna’s breath trembled. The pain was still there sharp and twisting. It made her bend slightly, pressing a hand to her stomach again.

Slowly, she pulled the blanket off the bed, rolling it into a heap on the floor, and sat again, staring out the window.

She wanted to cry for no reason. Or maybe for every reason she couldn’t name.

Of all days... it had to be today.

She buried her face in the pillow, muffling the sound that escaped her lips. The irony stung more than the cramps themselves. Today was meant to be the day she looked flawless, composed. The day she was supposed to stand before Rhane again.

Beautiful as ever, with no irritation whatsoever. Ready to be claimed as his bride. The day of the Trial of Veils.

Instead, she was curled in her sheets like a wounded thing, her hair tangled, her body drenched in sweat, and her stomach threatening to rip itself apart from her ribs down to her toes.

Jenna forced herself up once to change her stained sheets and wash the evidence away from her body.

When the water touched Jenna’s skin, she sucked in a deep breath hoping it would give her reprieve and enough strength to step out of the room. But just after bathing and changing into a cleaner dress, Jenna’s head throbbed.

The room spun; she barely managed to reach her bed before her knees gave out. Her body fell into the sheets like a discarded doll. The pain came back, merciless this time.

"Wooo..." Jenna breathed softly, her lips parted. She tried to give herself courage, but all that came out were broken sobs.

"Not today..." Jenna’s eyes blurred as more tears poured. "Please, not today..." her voice cracked. Her entire body felt numb, unwilling to obey. Jenna reached weakly for the blanket, dragging it over her body as she curled tighter.

It didn’t matter if she was begging her body or fate. Neither was listening. Jenna hated this helplessness, this betrayal by her own flesh.

When she should’ve been dressed in her best and waiting outside for Rhane, here she was.

Her hair clung to her face, her cheek pressed to the pillow, breathing through her mouth because her nose was clogged from crying.

The room was quiet except for Jenna’s ragged breaths and the faint rustle of the curtains.

The door creaked open.

"Jenna?"

Lady Rachel’s voice filled the room. She had let the young women have the best of their night but also needed to scold them a little. Entering further, the woman smacked her cane against the wall.

When she stepped in and saw the girl sprawled on the bed, her expression shifted from mild annoyance to alarm.

"What on earth....child, what’s wrong?"

Jenna tried to sit up but failed. Her fingers gripped the sheets. "It’s— it’s just my visitation," she whispered, ashamed of even saying it. "It hurts... I can’t—"

Lady Rachel crossed the room in two strides. Her gaze softened as she touched Jenna’s forehead, then her cheek. The girl was burning and freezing at once.

"Oh, poor darling..." the older woman murmured. She brushed back Jenna’s hair, frowning. "You should have asked someone. Why didn’t you?"

"I didn’t want to be a burden," Jenna mumbled, her voice barely audible.

Rachel sighed, that deep, tired kind of sigh only women who had lived through the same pain could give. She sat at the edge of the bed, rubbing Jenna’s arm gently.

"Burden? Don’t be foolish." She looked toward the door where Olivia had halted. "Olivia! Bring a clean towel and warm water!"

Jenna’s eyes fluttered open. "You shouldn’t... I’ll be fine..."

Lady Rachel shook her head. "You’re not fine. You’re pale as chalk, and your body’s rejecting every ounce of strength you have left. You won’t be standing at any trial if you don’t rest." Her tone left no room for argument.

Olivia returned with a towel and a bowl, standing at the side of the bed, staring at Jenna.

Rachel soaked the towel, wiping Jenna’s neck and forehead gently, cooling her skin.

The scent of chamomile filled the air as Rachel mixed a tea, pressing the cup gently to Jenna’s lips. "Drink. It’ll help the pain ease up a bit."

Jenna obeyed weakly. Her eyes closed as she swallowed, each sip trembling down her throat. She wanted nothing but to drift into a deep sleep where pain no longer existed.

"There," Lady Rachel whispered. "You’ll be ready before the Trial of Veils. You’ll see."

Jenna didn’t answer, but she prayed silently to feel better soon, before Rhane arrive. Her breathing slowed, her lashes still heavy with tears. And for the first time since dawn, she let herself drift, safe under Rachel’s hand.