Swallowing Darkness - Laurell K. Hamilton [4]
“You didn’t tell me, either of you,” I said, and there was accusation in my voice now. Better than tears, I supposed.
“What would you have done? When the Gods themselves choose, no one can change that. But it must be a willing sacrifice; the dream was clear on that. If Frost had known it was his heart you held most dear, he would have fought more, and I would have gone for him.”
I shook my head, and moved away from his hand. “Don’t you understand? If it had been you changed into another form, and lost to me, I would weep as much.”
Rhys squeezed my hand. “Doyle and Frost didn’t understand that they were the front-runners, together.”
I jerked free of his hand, and glared up at him, happy to be angry, because it felt better than any other emotion inside me in that moment. “You’re fools, all of you. Don’t you understand that I would mourn you all? That there is none of my inner circle that I would lose, or risk? Do you not all understand that?” I was shouting, and it felt much better than tears.
The door to the room opened again. A nurse appeared, followed by a white-coated doctor whom I’d seen earlier. Dr. Mason was a baby doctor, and one of the best in the state, maybe in the country. This had been explained to me in detail by a lawyer whom my aunt had sent. That she had sent a mortal and not one of our court had been interesting. None of us knew what to make of it, but I felt that she was treating me as she might treat herself if our situations were reversed. She had a tendency to kill the messenger. You can always get another human lawyer, but the immortal of faerie are scarce so she sent me someone whom she could replace. But the lawyer had been very clear that the queen was thrilled at the pregnancy, and would do all she could to make my pregnancy a safe one. That included paying for Dr. Mason.
The doctor frowned at the men. “I said not to upset her, gentlemen. I meant it.”
The nurse, a heavyset woman with brown hair tucked back in a ponytail, checked the monitors, and bustled around me while the doctor scolded the men.
The doctor wore a wide black headband that looked very stark against her yellow hair. It made it more clear, at least to me, that the color wasn’t her natural shade. She wasn’t much taller than me, but she didn’t seem short as she came around the bed to face the men. She stood so that she included Rhys and Doyle by the bed, and Sholto, who was still in the corner near the chair, in her frown.
“If you persist in upsetting my patient, you will have to leave the room.”
“We cannot leave her alone, Doctor,” Doyle said in his deep voice. “I remember the talk, but you seem to have forgotten mine. Did I or did I not tell you that she needed to rest, and under no circumstance be upset?”
They’d had this “talk” outside the room, because I hadn’t heard it. “Is there something wrong with the babies?” I asked, and now I had fear in my voice. I’d rather have been angry.
“No, Princess Meredith, the babies seem quite”—there was the smallest hesitation—“healthy.”
“You’re hiding something from me,” I said.
The doctor and nurse exchanged a look. It was not a good look. Dr. Mason came to the side of the bed opposite the men. “I’m simply concerned about you, as I would be for any patient carrying multiples.”
“I’m pregnant, not an invalid, Dr. Mason.” My pulse rate was up, and the machines showed that. I understood why I was hooked up to more machines than normal. If anything went wrong with this pregnancy there would be problems for the hospital. I was about as high profile as you got, and they were worried. Also, I’d been in shock when they brought me in, with low blood pressure, low everything, skin cold to the touch. They’d wanted to make sure my heart rate and such didn’t continue to drop. Now the monitors betrayed my moods.
“Talk to me, Doctor, because the hesitation is scaring me.”
She looked at Doyle, and he gave one small nod. I did not like that