Seraphina struggled to sit up on the bed. The weakness lingered, but the sharp pain had dulled to a manageable ache.
She could not stop now. The Demon Realm was in the midst of a great upheaval; she could not let a mere “little thing” like this delay everything.
“I need to see Duke Dekrian.” Her voice was still hoarse, but her tone was iron. “The appointments for the four Governors-General of the Ashen Corridor must be settled quickly. We can’t afford more complications.”
“Oh? So eager?” Movira did not insist she rest. She merely waved a hand. “As you wish. Just don’t push yourself too hard.”
Seraphina deliberately chose a set of deep-colored robes to hide any trace of weakness and forced her spine straight.
“This wretched body… so frail,” she cursed inwardly, but it changed nothing. She still had to brace herself against the wall, inching toward the study step by step.
For the sake of the last scraps of her dignity, she refused to let anyone support her.
When she entered the study, Dekrian was already waiting.
He rose at once, bowing slightly. His sharp eyes swept over her face and immediately caught the pallor that had not been there before.
“Your Highness summoned me.”
“Sit.” Seraphina steadied herself, walking slowly to her chair, trying to keep her voice even.
Finally seated, she shifted her weight backward to ease the pressure on her abdomen. Her fingers rested casually on the armrests, actually supporting her body.
“I have some ideas about the four Governors-General. I’d like your opinion.”
Without pleasantries, she pushed yesterday’s draft across the desk.
Dekrian accepted it with both hands, read carefully, praised highly, and offered a few refinements.
“Your Highness has considered everything thoroughly. I have no major objections. However… the Giantwing Demons may…”
He was politely hinting at the same intelligence concern that worried her.
“That’s why I plan to appoint a deputy governor from the Whiplash Demons.”
Even this short sentence made her dizzy; she paused to breathe. “The two clans are close. They complement each other perfectly.”
Dekrian nodded; it was an elegant solution. But at the end of the list, the Flame Demons’ name surprised him.
“The Flame Demons… in charge of oversight?”
“Yes. Oversight.” Because of her body, she had no patience for long explanations. “If we leave them out, resistance will only grow. Three of the four seats are already ours. Even with the Shadow Demons neutral, the Flame Demons cannot overturn anything.”
“Brilliant, Your Highness. I am in awe.” Dekrian returned the paper respectfully. “This arrangement will stabilize the situation as much as possible. If there is nothing else, I will take my leave and not disturb your rest.”
Exactly what she wanted to hear. She was at her limit.
She merely hummed softly in acknowledgement.
When the door closed and the world outside was shut away, Seraphina finally allowed herself to collapse. She slumped forward onto the cool desk.
Forehead pressed to her arm, she let out muffled groans.
That brief conversation had drained what little strength she had recovered.
Yet peace lasted only five minutes. The creak of hinges yanked her from half-unconsciousness.
She tried to straighten, but a fresh stab in her abdomen froze her. She could only lift her head.
It was Ailinuo, carrying a steaming cup of calming tea, face full of open worry.
When she saw Seraphina’s paper-white face and limp posture, her crimson eyes widened in shock.
“Your Highness!”
The cup nearly spilled. She set it down hastily and rushed over.
“What’s wrong?! You look terrible… Are you hurt somewhere? I’ll call Lady Erasia right now!”
“No, don’t!”
Seraphina grabbed her sleeve with surprising strength, voice weak and raspy.
Let Erasia come? That would be handing herself over for mockery on a silver platter.
She drew a breath, tried to force a smile, only managed a twitch of the lips. “I’m fine… just tired.”
Ailinuo clearly didn’t believe a word. She leaned closer, brows knitted.
“But you really look like you’re in pain. Is it an old wound acting up? Or…”
Her gaze dropped to the hand Seraphina unconsciously pressed against her abdomen, and she remembered Movira’s personal order for this particular soothing tea…
A very common guess among girls surfaced. Without thinking, pure concern made her blurt:
“Your Highness… have you… started your monthly courses? Is that why your stomach hurts?”
“!”
The blunt question struck Seraphina like lightning. Blood rushed to her face, then drained away just as fast.
The most embarrassing, most shameful thing she could imagine, spoken so casually, so straightforwardly!
To Ailinuo it was the most ordinary thing every woman experienced.
To Seraphina… it was anything but ordinary.
Or rather, Seraphina had absolutely no mental preparation for it.
Seeing the extreme reaction, Ailinuo was now certain she had guessed right.
But… why did Her Highness look not just in pain, but ashamed and panicked? That confused her.
Logically, Her Highness was older and should be completely used to this by now. Why did she look… like it was her very first time?
“Your Highness… you… have you never… before…?”
Ailinuo blinked, curiosity innocent and unfiltered.
“I…”
Words failed her. Brain blank.
There was no way she could say, “Actually I only became a girl very recently.” That would traumatize the poor child.