In the small room, Chinua soaked in the bathtub, realizing she had read something similar in the Palace Library. She sighed, wondering if she would bleed like this every month, and what she would do with her stomach cramps during army training.
"Auntie, do you get stomach cramps when you bleed?" Chinua asked.
The middle-aged woman explained, "I personally don't have them, but I've heard that some women do. Some women will have them throughout the bleeding period, and some have early signs, but once the bleeding occurs, the symptoms disappear." She smiled kindly at Chinua. "How are your stomach cramps now?"
Chinua realized that her stomach cramps had indeed vanished since the bleeding began. "No more," she said.
The middle-aged woman smiled. "That's good." She sighed, a concerned frown creasing her brow. "Isn't your mother worried that you're traveling with those servants? They're men. Men can't be trusted. They're like sneaky wolves; they usually follow quietly until they attack you." She sighed again and shook her head. "Your mother should teach you these things."
Chinua looked at the worried middle-aged woman. "These are things my mother didn't teach me; we didn't live together. She lives in a different house. I'm sure Khenbish and Khunbish won't hurt me."
"They are your servants, not your brothers," the middle-aged woman countered gently.
"We've known each other since childhood," Chinua insisted. "They're my closest family."
The middle-aged woman chuckled softly. "You rich people and your servants. I don't think I will ever understand the rich, and the rich will never understand the poor." She sighed again. "No matter how big and delicious the meal on the rich people's table is, I won't trade my boiled beef and mutton for it."
"Why not?" Chinua asked.
"Because having dinner at the table with my family after a long day of working, even if it's just cooked beef and mutton, it tastes better," she explained, her eyes softening. She looked at Chinua. "Next time, have a family dinner with your family and you'll see what I mean."
"I will try it next time I go home," Chinua promised.
The middle-aged woman grabbed Chinua's clothes and dipped them into a hot bucket. She undid the long belt from Chinua's waist and began to tear the black belt into small pieces. "Since you're starting to bleed, don't sleep with any man," she warned, her voice serious. "If you do, you'll get pregnant." She neatly folded the torn rags into ten small pieces and placed them on the table. "Who are the two men waiting for you outside?"
"I told you before that they are my servants," Chinua repeated patiently.
The middle-aged woman turned to look at Chinua, her gaze firm. "Men can't be trusted, whether they are servants or friends. You have to take care of yourself."
"Thank you," Chinua said, "but they don't dare to hurt me."
"Are you finished?" the woman asked.
"Yes," Chinua replied.
The middle-aged woman grabbed a folded black cloth from the table and handed it to Chinua. "Get out of the tub and put this rag in your privates," she instructed.
Chinua took the black rag and tucked it between her legs. "Done," she said.
The middle-aged woman put one end of the belt on Chinua's abdomen and let it hang down. She walked behind Chinua. "Now spread your legs, a little bit." After Chinua followed the instruction, the middle-aged woman grabbed the other end of the belt and pulled it back to her buttocks. She tore the end of the belt in half and wrapped it tightly around Chinua's waist.
The middle-aged woman walked back to Chinua. "This should hold the rag between your legs. You can get dressed now." She sat down on a low stool. "Remember to change as needed. If you change frequently, there should be no blood on your clothes. Instead, wash these rags and reuse them, so there's no need to remake them."
Chinua looked at the middle-aged woman she had just met and realized she had spoken to her more times than Queen Qara had ever spoken to her in her life. She smiled. "Thank you for teaching me how to take care of myself. I will never forget you."
"If you really want to thank me, say that my tavern is the best, and wish me a prosperous business," the middle-aged woman said with a smile.
Chinua's smile widened. "I will. I will definitely rest here on the way back."
"I will always welcome you," the middle-aged woman said, standing up. "It's getting late; you must be tired. I won't force you to talk to me anymore." She walked to the door and opened it.
Khunbish and Khenbish were still standing at the door, their forms blocking the middle-aged woman's exit. The middle-aged woman looked back at Chinua. "Remember what I told you about men."
"I will," Chinua affirmed.
The middle-aged woman gently pushed Khunbish and Khenbish aside. "You two take good care of your master. Also, wash her bloody clothes in the bucket."
"Thank you," Khunbish said.
The middle-aged woman walked out of the room and disappeared into the corridor.
"I'll wash it," Khenbish offered.
Khunbish closed the door and walked toward Chinua. "Chinua, did that lady heal you?" he asked, still looking worried.
"There's no cure," Chinua explained. "It's a natural bleeding that every woman experiences every month."
"Sorry, we don't know anything about it," Khunbish said, a hint of embarrassment in his voice.
"It's not your fault. I don't know as much as you do," Chinua replied, getting up and walking to the edge of the bed before sitting down. "Let's say we're all equally at fault."
Khenbish hung Chinua's clothes on the wooden board. "Chinua, the bed is very small," he said to her and Khunbish. "You can sleep on the bed. Khunbish and I will sleep on the floor."
Chinua looked at the two men standing before her. "Will there be a day..." she began, her voice soft, "...will the two of you betray me?"
Khunbish and Khenbish quickly turned to face Chinua, bewildered by her sudden question. Both fell to their knees. "Not even death can take away my loyalty to Chinua; my life is yours," they declared in unison.
Chinua smiled faintly. "Distance tests the strength of a horse; time reveals a person's heart." She lay on the bed. "Don't think too much. I never said I doubted your loyalty."
"Why did Chinua ask this question all of a sudden?" Khunbish asked, still puzzled.
"The aunt said that men are unreliable," Chinua said. She smiled, a knowing glint in her eyes. "I bet she's met a lot of unfaithful men in her life, and that's made her label them all untrustworthy." She sighed. "I know that wherever I go, you two will follow me, even if you know very well that death is inevitable."
On the way to Nta-tshua, the three of them rode by the river. Chinua's lips curved into a sneer.
"What's so funny?" Khunbish asked.
"We talked about this river when I went to ask the King for permission to enlist in the Northern Army training camp," Chinua said.
"What advice did Chinua give?" Khenbish asked.
"I told the King that this river was an important defense against the capital." Chinua smiled, a hint of self-satisfaction. "To be honest, at the time I wasn't sure if that was true, but now it seems that building a dam here is indeed a good defense." She dismounted and began walking along the riverbank. She pointed to the mountain on the right. "Anyone who wants to get to Nta-tshua has to go through here. Our first line of defense should be at Nta-tshua, and the last defense is here before the enemy reaches Ntoo Village."
"Chinua, from our youth until now, I've only seen you studying warfare. You hardly have time to live like other princesses," Khunbish said, a wave of sadness washing over him. "I see other princesses painting, studying poetry, and dressing gorgeously. Before we left, the other princesses had a tea party, and you didn't attend. Why?"
Chinua simply replied, "Well, that's because their way of thinking is different from mine." She continued to walk. "I prefer talking to the two of you."
"How so?" Khenbish asked.
"I'm not interested in which general's son looks better, or would make a good husband," Chinua said. "I'm not interested in which fabrics are better to wear, or which hairstyles and makeup are suitable for which occasions."
"Is it because of the selfishness of Queen Qara and Prince Batsaikhan?" Khunbish ventured, carefully.
Chinua looked at Khunbish strangely. "Get that thought out of your head. It was never because of them. I want to secure my elder brother's position, but that's only part of it." She smiled at her two guards. "I want to be the princess everyone will be talking about hundreds of years from now. A princess who doesn't learn to sew but reads a map. A princess who doesn't write poetry but writes war strategies. A princess who holds no makeup brush, but holds a sword..."
Khunbish interrupted, his voice filled with newfound understanding, "A princess who wears no glamorous dress, but wears armor!"
Chinua smiled and gently tapped Khunbish on the right side of his chest, "That's right."
Khunbish quipped, "Then you must be a unique princess."
Khenbish added, "To be honest, Queen Qara is a little unfair to you. Her Royal Highness hasn't even taught you about monthly bleeding."
Chinua looked at her two guards and sighed, "Sometimes, you need a complete stranger to teach you a lesson and make you fully appreciate the people who are on your side."
"Are we going to stay in Nta-tshua for two days?" Khunbish asked.
"No..." Chinua replied. She mounted her horse, and so did her two guards.
Khenbish looked at Khunbish. "Chinua has already made a plan, so there's no need to stay."
"We will ride past Nta-tshua and go straight to the Northern Army training camp," Chinua declared. As she and her two bodyguards rode north, their horses galloped into the wind, and the morning sun chased them on their left side.