Two weeks later, Sylvia was cleared.

She was no longer required constant surveillance, but she would still be checked every other day, monitored during scent fluctuations, and immediately reported if she developed a fever, uncontrolled output, new pain around the gland, or what Seven called "unusual behavioral changes."

Sylvia asked whether threatening a physician counted.

Seven said, without looking up from her chart, that in her case it was baseline.

So she was almost free.

Her parents visited often but never stayed too long. Her mother brought clothes and practical questions. Her father brought approved food and looked at Thomas as if slowly deciding whether the large, dangerous man could be trusted permanently with his daughter.

Thomas endured it.

Minerva and Daniel had visited too, which Sylvia had not expected. Minerva was delightful in the alarming way of women who knew exactly how empires worked and still asked whether Sylvia preferred tea or coffee before discussing border pressure. Daniel was kinder, softer in presentation, and somehow equally dangerous.

Sylvia liked them both.

She also concluded they were very nice, provided one did not make them angry.

Thomas, apparently, had not mastered that part.

Which was why Sylvia was alone with Dean that afternoon, sitting in the east sitting room with her feet tucked under a blanket, while Thomas had been taken away by Arion to discuss Draxil.

"Taken away" was Thomas’s phrase.

"Removed before he started growling at maps" had been Dean’s.

The negotiations with Draxil were becoming worse. Alamina wanted access to territory connected to Claudia’s old foundation, or at least an official admission that Draxil had a problem hidden under old estates, private clinics, and sanctified language.

Draxil preferred pretending everything was an Alaminian misunderstanding.

Arion had begun smiling too politely.

This meant someone would suffer soon.

Sylvia approved in theory.

In practice, she had other concerns.

Dean sat across from her in a soft green sweater, one leg folded beneath him, a cup of tea in hand. He had known Sylvia since they were seventeen, which meant he understood that her silence was never empty.

"You have questions," he said.

Sylvia looked at him. "Yes."

"About?"

"Biology."

His expression shifted at once, the amusement softening into attention. "Yours?"

"Yes."

"Then ask." He said with a soft movement of his hand.

Sylvia considered how to begin with dignity and immediately abandoned it.

"Is heat menstruation?"

Dean blinked.

Then he lowered his cup very slowly. "No."

"But they are both cycles."

"Yes."

"And bleeding can happen during heat." She said with a confidence that made Dean’s face flatten.

"No. Are you bleeding while ovulating? Spotting doesn’t count."

Sylvia frowned. "I do not know. I have never personally observed myself ovulating."

Dean closed his eyes briefly.

He wanted to help. Sylvia could see him wanting to help with the strained determination of a man approaching an infected beast while carrying nothing but a pamphlet and good intentions.

"Heat replaces ovulation in an omega’s cycle," he said. "It does not replace menstruation. They are separate stages."

"So heat is ovulation."

"Heat is ovulation after someone gave it military funding."

Sylvia nodded slowly. "That explains nothing."

"It explains the scale." Dean shifted in his chair, already regretting every decision that had brought him here. "An omega’s body reaches its highest fertility during heat. Hormones rise, scent output increases, body temperature changes, and the reproductive system becomes extremely enthusiastic about accomplishing its purpose."

"Pregnancy." Sylvia made a face at that thought.

"Yes."

"Against the omega’s better judgment?"

"Frequently."

Sylvia considered this. "And the bleeding?"

"If the omega is a woman, her cycle continues afterward. If there is no pregnancy, the uterine lining sheds normally. Heat does not make menstruation disappear, and yes, timing can overlap occasionally because bodies enjoy administrative chaos, but they are not the same process."

"So I could enter heat while menstruating."

Dean’s mouth tightened, and the only reason he didn’t try to talk sense into his friend was because she was still medicated and recovering.

"Technically."

"That sounds unpleasant."

"It is deeply inconvenient."

"Would I suffer?"

Dean’s expression sobered despite the faint redness rising beneath his skin. "Without suppressants, a mate, or a safe heat partner, an omega can suffer for one to three days. Sometimes longer if something is medically wrong. Fever, dehydration, pain, confusion, and uncontrolled scent output. Being near unrestrained alphas is dangerous, as there are some people who would use any excuse to be animals."

Sylvia glanced toward the door through which Thomas had disappeared.

Dean followed her gaze.

"Thomas would probably barricade the entire palace wing and threaten anyone who breathed too loudly."

"That is reassuring."

"It should not be."

"It is."

Dean sighed into his tea.

Sylvia waited until he drank before asking, "What about omega men?"

Dean stopped.

His cup remained against his mouth for several seconds as he stopped himself from spitting out the tea.

He swallowed and lowered the cup with great care. "Of course that is your next question."

"Do they menstruate?"

"They still have a uterus."

Sylvia leaned forward.

Dean leaned backward.

"The cycle is similar," he continued, staring at a point somewhere beyond her shoulder. "But most of the uterine material is reabsorbed by the body instead of producing regular bleeding."

"Most?"

"There can be discharge."

"What kind?"

Dean looked at her.

Sylvia looked back with sincere scientific interest.

Something in Dean surrendered.

"The kind you are not asking me to describe while I am drinking tea."

"Is it bloody?"

"Sometimes lightly."

"Thick?"

"Sylvia."

"Does Arion—"

"No."

"You did not let me finish."

"I know exactly where that question was going, and I am protecting the dignity of the Crown."

"You discuss his dignity?"

"Extensively. Usually while he is losing it."

Sylvia smiled.

Dean pointed at her with one warning finger. "You are enjoying this."

"I am learning."

"You are terrorizing me under the protection of medical curiosity."

"Can I ask Thomas these questions?"

Dean stared at her for a long moment.

Then, very slowly, he smiled.

"Yes," he said. "In fact, I strongly recommend it."

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