Your sobbing awakens the Quaestor. They immediately arise, their quick eyes seemingly glowing in the dark.
Their first thought, immediately, is that you're being attacked. Vicious thoughts overtake their mind as they frantically search the room for any signs of an intruder. They would surely pay for making you cry.
Upon sensing no other presence other than the two of you in the room, the Quaestor quickly makes their way over to you, where you lay across a sofa that was tucked in the corner of the room, away from the large mattress the two of you "shared," when Valdemar slept.
"What is the matter, my swan?" they croon, their ungloved fingers running through your hair delicately, like you could break like fine china.
"It's stupid," they hear you cry. "Forget about me and go back to sleep, please."
"Nonsense," they admonish you. "Tell me what's wrong. Did someone speak to you?" Their voice immediately hardens at even the idea of someone hurting or corrupting their swan. That was their job.
"No, no," you quickly state, fumbling over your words, "it's nothing like that."
They hum. "Then, what, pray tell, is it?"
There was a pause. You suck in a breath.
More crying suddenly erupts. "I'm on my period," you cry out. "I hate it. This sucks so much."
If they were anyone else, they would have laughed.