In the semblance of privacy of the healer's tent, Aurora was being subjected to an exam she'd have found traumatizing just this time yesterday.  But it had been a long day, and having the old priestess of Moon carefully inspect her no longer carried the impact it might once have.<br/><br/>"You poor, poor dear," said the priestess as she finished, nodding to the waiting maids, who rushed to the princess with fresh clothes.  "I simply cannot imagine what would have possessed Harrick to do such a dreadful, dreadful thing.  Is there any pain?  The blood is simply your maidenhead; you weren't torn, weren't harmed. . .physically, but I cannot imagine what this must be like for you."<br/><br/><em>No, you can't</em>Aurora thought.  She could not muster up any more tears, she felt those would have gone over well, but the priestess seemed to accept the blank look on her face as numb shock, and not think it amiss.  Aloud, she said.  "I begged him to stop, but it was like he couldn't hear me.  I can still feel his. . .his hands on me. . .his breath smelled like old sour wine and. . .and. . ."<br/><br/>"Shhh, there there, dear," crooned the priestess.  "It's all right.  Here, drink this."  She measured out a spoonful of a potion from a vial she kept in a pouch at her belt.  "You need rest right now, dear.  You need to sleep while we send a messenger to your father, explaining the situation.  It will help your body and mind recover, to sleep."<br/><br/><em>Oh yes,</em>Aurora thought, gulping down the potion, though it tasted bitter and clung to her throat and mouth.<em>That's exactly what I need</em>.<br/><br/>At the wagon where her maids would ride, Aurora began to fall into sleep, the bloodstone pendant clutched in her hand.