Richelle Mead - Iron Crowned

“The very moment.”

Kiyo might not have been able to go with me … but Jasmine did.

Ostensibly, I told myself it was because she couldn’t be left by herself. Yet, deep inside, when I really looked at my heart, I knew the truth. I didn’t want to go through this alone. I knew what the test entailed, and even if we got no answers today, it was still one step closer to what could be a huge event.

“You can do it, you know,” Jasmine told me.

I’d let her come into the exam room with me. It was dimly lit for the ultrasound equipment, and the doctor and tech had stepped out so I could change. Undressing in front of Jasmine felt weird, so I kept my back to her as I put on the hospital gown.

“Do what? This test?”

“No. I mean, yeah, whatever, you’ll be fine. But I mean, have the baby. Whatever it is. Even a boy. You can fulfill our father’s prophecy.” There was a zeal in her voice I hadn’t heard in a while—one I’d hoped had gone away.

Gowned, I turned around. “No. That’s out of the question. If it’s a boy … well, I can’t have it. End of story. A girl … I don’t know. I’m probably not doing that either.” I couldn’t help adding, “Besides, I thought you wanted to be the heir’s mother.”

Her face was deadly earnest as she considered my words. “I did. But maybe I’m not meant to.”

The staff returned and situated me on the examining table while Jasmine retreated to a corner. They introduced themselves: Dr. Sartori and Veronica the tech. They explained the procedure to me, though I’d already read up on it several times. The doctor was going to—ack—stick a giant needle in me to collect cells and would use ultrasound to guide him. He made sure I understood the risk of such a test. A small percentage of women miscarried. Dryly, I told him I was willing to accept that.

Veronica raised the gown to bare my stomach. As she rubbed gel on it, I stared down wonderingly. Honestly? It looked no different than in the past. I’d always been skinny, and with my lack of appetite, I probably wasn’t putting on much weight. If not for my symptoms and Dr. Moore’s “very accurate” test, I never would have guessed what was inside me. And what was inside me? My stomach took on a strange, sinister countenance. Again, I had that feeling of my body’s betrayal. It was doing things out of my control.

“Okay,” said Veronica, moving the paddle to my stomach. “Let’s take a look.”

Both she and Dr. Sartori watched a black monitor that had my name, birthday, and a few other stats at the bottom of the screen. When the paddle made contact, the screen flared to life, showing the indecipherable gray and white confusion I’d always seen when people had ultrasounds on TV. I could make no sense of it nor see anything resembling a baby, but sound immediately accompanied the images, repetitive swishing noises, kind of like waves. I at least knew what that meant.

“That’s the heartbeat, isn’t it?” I asked, a strange feeling crawling over me. Heartbeat. Another creature’s heart inside of me.

Neither practitioner answered right away. Dr. Sartori frowned curiously, and Veronica shifted the paddle around to get more views.

“Huh,” said the doctor.

“What?” I exclaimed. Two immediate possibilities sprang to mind. One was that my gentry blood mixing with Kiyo’s kitsune blood had created some sort of monster. The other thought—one that suddenly offered a world of safety—was that there had been a mistake. The test wasn’t accurate, and I actually wasn’t pregnant. “Isn’t that the heartbeat?”

Dr. Sartori’s gaze fell on me, a small smile on his lips. “That’s the heartbeats. You have twins.”

No one had to tell me the ways in which that exponentially complicated things. Jasmine’s gasp confirmed my many realizations.

“Two placentas,” said Veronica, pausing and typing something one-handed while still keeping hold of the paddle.

“What … what’s that mean?” I asked.

“It means they could be identical or fraternal,” said Dr. Sartori. “One placenta would be identical for sure.”

I swallowed. The noise, that wavelike sound … It was drowning me. My heartbeat, another heartbeat, and another still … How was it possible? How could there be so much life in one body?

“Can you still do the test?” I stammered out.

Dr. Sartori was holding the needle but made no moves as his eyes flicked back to the monitor. “I can … but it’s not recommended in this situation. With twins, the risks are increased.”

“I don’t care,” I said firmly. “I still want it. I have to know. With my family history …”

I prayed he wouldn’t demand too many details beyond what Dr. Moore had sent over. He and Veronica discussed a few things, using medical language I couldn’t follow. She used the paddle to check every angle, taking measurements on her computer as he occasionally pointed details out. Finally, after another warning against the procedure, he agreed to do it.

It hurt as much as you’d expect from a giant needle being stuck into you. His hands were superhumanly steady, as his eyes held firm to the monitor so he could watch the needle’s progress. I still couldn’t make out much in the images but knew the challenge was to get to the placenta without touching a fetus. Placentas, in this case. They had to get another test kit, using another needle in order to sample from both babies.

Babies.

I still couldn’t believe it. They helped me when they finished the test, loading Jasmine and me up with post-care instructions to reduce both self-injury and the risk of miscarriage.

Does it matter? I thought bleakly. A miscarriage would take the decision away from me. It’d be out of my hands.

For now, one tiny problem did present itself: getting home. I was sore and didn’t feel like driving. In fact, I’d been advised not to. Jasmine helpfully offered to.

“I know for a fact you don’t have a license,” I told her. I was leaning against my car, baking in welcome sunshine.

“No, but I can drive. Come on, it’s not that far. And you certainly can’t. What do you want to do? Call Tim and let him know what’s going on?” she challenged.

I wanted my mom, I realized. I wanted my mom to come and drive me home—to her home. I wanted her to take care of me and talk to me like she used to. I wanted her to fix all this.

I blinked rapidly and turned my head, not wanting Jasmine to see me tear up.

“Fine.” I held out the keys. “If we get pulled over, the ticket’s coming out of your allowance.”

To her credit, she drove responsibly, and she was right—it wasn’t far. I tilted my seat back slightly, wanting to sleep for the next few days or however long it would take to get back my results. I didn’t want to endure the waiting. I couldn’t endure the waiting. The car’s silence and rhythm nearly took me under until Jasmine spoke.

“So,” she said matter-of-factly. “If they’re boys, you get an abortion. If they’re girls …”

“Then I don’t.” I hadn’t realized I’d made my decision until that moment. When I’d heard those heartbeats … well, it didn’t matter if motherhood and drastic body changes scared the hell out of me. If I had two daughters, daughters unconnected to any prophecy, I would have them. I’d figure parenting out. “If they’re girls, I’ll keep them.”

She nodded and said nothing more until we were turning down my street. Honestly, I was surprised she waited that long because I’d already known what else she was dying to ask.

“Eugenie?”

“Yes, Jasmine?”

“What are you going to do if one’s a boy and one’s a girl?”