Лорел Гамильтон - Swallowing Darkness

She opened her mouth as if she'd argue, then closed it.

She went to the other side of the room, where they had left the ultrasound machine after the last time they'd used it on me. She put on gloves, and so did the nurse. They got the tube of gloopy stuff that I'd already learned was really, really cold.

Dr. Mason didn't bother asking if I wanted any of the men to leave the room this time. It had taken her a little while to realize that I felt that all the men had a right to be in the room. The only one we were missing was Galen, and Doyle had sent him on an errand. I had been half asleep when I'd seen them talking, low, then Galen had left. I hadn't thought to ask where, or why. I trusted Doyle.

They lifted the gown, spread the blueish goo, again very cold, on my stomach, then the doctor got the chunky wand, and began to move it across my abdomen. I watched the monitor and its blurry picture. I'd actually seen the image enough that I could make out the two spots, the two shapes that were so small, they didn't even look real yet. The only thing that let me know what they were was the fast fluttering of their hearts in the image.

"See, they look perfectly fine."

"Then why all the extra tests?" I asked.

"Honestly?"

"Please."

"Because you are Princess Meredith NicEssus, and I'm covering my ass." She smiled and I smiled back.

"That is honest for a doctor," I said.

"I try," she said.

The nurse began to clean my stomach off with a cloth, then she cleaned the equipment as the doctor and I stared at each other.

"I've already had reporters pestering me and my staff for details. It isn't just the queen who's going to be watching me closely."

She gripped her stethoscope again.

"I am sorry that my status will make this harder for you and your staff."

"Just be a model patient, and we'll talk in the morning, Princess. Now, will you sleep, or at least rest?"

"I'll try."

She almost smiled, but her eyes had that guarded look like she wasn't certain she believed me. "Well, I think that's the best I can hope for, but," and she turned to the men, "no upsetting her." She actually shook a finger at them.

"She is a princess," Sholto said from the corner, "and our future queen. If she demands unpleasant topics, what are we to do?"

She nodded, with that grip on her stethoscope again. "I've been talking to Queen Andais, so I do see your problem. Try to get her to rest, try to keep her quiet. She's had a lot of shocks today, and I'd just like it better if she rested."

"We will do our best," Doyle said.

She smiled, but her eyes stayed worried. "I'll hold you to that. Rest." She pointed her finger at me as if it were some sort of magic to make me do it. Then she went for the door and the nurse trailed after her.

"Where did you send Galen?" I asked.

"He is fetching someone who I thought would help us."

"Who and where from? You didn't send him back into faerie alone?"

"No." Doyle cupped my face in his hands. "I would not risk our green knight. He is one of the fathers and will be a king."

"How is that going to work?" Rhys asked.

"Yes," Sholto said, "how can we all be king?"

"I think the answer is that Merry will be queen," Doyle said.

"That is no answer," Sholto said.

"It's all the answer we have now," Doyle said, and I stared into those black eyes and saw colored lights. Colors of things that were not in this room.

"You are trying to bespell me," I said.

"You need to rest, for the sake of the babies you carry. Let me help you rest."

"You want to bespell me and me to allow it," I said softly.

"Yes."

"No."

He leaned in toward me with the colors in his eyes seeming to grow brighter like rainbow stars. "Do you trust me, Meredith?"

"Yes."

"Then let me help you rest. I swear to you that you will wake refreshed, and that all the problems will still be waiting to be decided."

"You won't decide anything important without me? Promise?"

"I promise," he said, and he kissed me. He kissed me, and suddenly all I could see was color and darkness. It was like standing in a summer's night surrounded by fireflies, except these fireflies were red, green, yellow, and... I slept.

I woke to sunlight, and Galen's smiling face. His curls were very green in the light, haloed with it, so that even the pale white of his skin showed the green tint that usually only showed when he wore a green shirt. He was the only one of my men who had short hair. The only sop to custom was a braid of hair that now trailed over his shoulder and down past the bed. I'd mourned his hair at first, but now, it was just Galen. He had been just Galen to me since I was fourteen and had first asked my father to marry me to him. It had taken me years to understand why my father had said no. Galen, my sweet Galen, had no head for politics or subterfuge. In the high court of faerie you needed to be good at both.

But he had come into the Seelie Court to find me because he, like me, was good at subtle glamour. We could both change our appearances while someone was watching, and stand a chance of having them see only the change we wanted them to see. It had been the magic that had stayed with all of faeriekind, as other, seemingly more powerful, magics had faded.

I reached up with my hand, but the IV made me stop the motion. He leaned down and laid a soft kiss on my mouth. He was the first man who had kissed me there since I was brought into the hospital. It felt almost startling, but good. Had the others been afraid of truly kissing me? Afraid it would remind me of what my uncle had done?

"I like the smile better," Galen said.

I smiled for him. He'd been making me smile in spite of myself for decades.

He touched the line of my cheek, as delicately as a butterfly's wing. That one small touch made me shiver, but not with fear. His smile brightened, and it made me remember why I had once loved him above all others.

"Better, but I have someone here who I think will help the smile stay." He moved so I could see the much smaller figure behind him. Gran was more than a foot shorter than Galen.

She had my mother's long, wavy hair, still a deep chestnut brown even though she was several hundred years old. Her eyes were liquid and brown and traditionally lovely. The rest of her wasn't so traditional. Her face was more brownie than human, which meant she had no nose. The holes were there, but nothing else, and very little lips, so that her face seemed skeletal. Her skin was wrinkled and brown and it wasn't from age, just taking after her brownie heritage. The eyes might have been my great-grandmother's eyes, but the hair had to be my great-grandfather's. He had been a Scottish farmer, and farmers didn't have portraits painted. I had only glimpses of Gran and my mother and aunt to see what I could see of the human side of my family.

Gran came to the edge of the bed and laid her hand over mine. "Dearie, my little dear, what ha' they done to thee?" Her eyes were shiny with unshed tears.

I moved my free hand to put over hers, where it lay over the IV. "Don't cry, Gran, please."

"An' why not?" she asked.

"Because if you do, so will I."

She gave a loud sniff, and nodded briskly. "That's a good reason, Merry. If you can be this brave, so can I."

My eyes burned, and my throat was suddenly tight. It was irrational, but somehow I felt safer with this tiny woman beside me than I had with the guards. They were trained to give their life for me, and they were some of the finest warriors the court could boast, but I hadn't felt safe, not really. Now, Gran was here, and there was still something of that childhood feeling that as long as she was with me nothing truly bad could happen. If only it were true.