Not well.

“Oh gods. Oh gods,” Cecilia moaned wretchedly. Her legs curled at her thighs, she stared at her hands in horror. “Oh god, what have I done!” she wailed, grasping at her hair, only to pull them away at once as she felt the sticky remnants of cum clumping it. She stared at her naked hands in horror. “My purity, my chastity, gone! Oh…oh gods…” Sobbing, she wrapped her arms around her middle and curled up on the floor, crying for her loss.

Dew was not much better off. After rising to a seated position, she just seemed to stare blankly forward, as though her senses had abandoned her along with her inhibitions. She looked around blankly, as if unsure where she was, even as Cecilia cried nearby.

“I…it just happened. I…I guess I…it felt good. But…no…I…ah…” Dew softly murmured to herself.

“I’m a whore! I’m no more than a whore!” Cecilia sobbed from where she lay. She turned away from Myria. “Don’t look at me! I should have resisted more. I’m better than this! I should have controlled my body better. I didn’t have enough discipline! I’m better! How could this happen? Gods!” She looked up to the ceiling with tear soaked eyes. “Why did this happen to me?” she asked, as though a message explaining all would be scrawled up there.

Myria watched her friends descend into their own worlds of grief. She gently fiddled with the hilt of her sword, unsure how to deal with this matter.