I'm anxious beyond words, and Celia wasn't helping with her silence. I could tell... feel it even, that something was really wrong.
For the past week or more, I have been dizzy, retching my guts out, and it was only a matter of time before I started coughing blood. I recognise these symptoms like the back of my hand.
My lingering ailment could be coming back.
"Tell me, Celia..." I broke the cold silence in a stiff tone. "Am I dying?"
Celia flickered her gaze to me. "What?"
"You feel something's wrong, don't you? Your expression says it all, don't hide it."
"What—that—" she stuttered, before sighing heavily. "That is not what bothers me."
I frowned. "What is?"
What could be far worse than my sickness returning?
"W-When was the last time you had your courses?"
I blinked, wondering why she was asking such a blunt question.
"W-Well, I—" I froze.
Wait, when was the last time I bled?
"If you don't remember, then we should ask your handmaids. They keep track."
