We arrive at the Messalinian equivalent of an emergency room and Sebastian is there again, lifting me up. I won’t look at him, I can’t meet his eyes. The pain is too much, but he doesn’t force it and doesn’t fucking say anything likeI’m sorryorI didn’t mean itorI’m just scared and overreacted.
He walks me in through the doors and I feel ridiculous. I’m lost and alone and his hands on me are the worst form of torture.
“Put me down,” I demand, sharply enough that he starts and stares down at me in surprise. “Now.”
“Bellamy—”
“I said now.”
He finds a random wheelchair lined up by the front entrance and sets me down into it, wheeling me toward the registration. Only Javier must have alerted them we were coming because suddenly there’s a swarm of doctors and nurses around me as well as hospital security.
“Your Majesty, we have a room waiting for you.”
“Thank you,” is all I manage to say.
They wheel me into a brightly lit room—the trauma room, I realize—and help me onto the gurney. Sebastian is standing by the door, his eyes trained on my face, but I don’t want to look at him, so instead I focus on the doctor. On the questions she’s asking me. On the nurse who is helping me.
“Your Majesty?—”
“Bellamy,” I correct the doctor and catch Sebastian frowning out of the corner of my eye, but what does he expect after he makes a declaration like that?
“Bellamy,” the doctor repeats kindly. “Can you tell me what happened?”
I go into an account of how I fell.
“Have you had any cramps?”
I nod and hear Sebastian curse in Latin under his breath.
“All right, let’s get you checked out. With your pregnancy, I’d rather not x-ray your ankle unless we absolutely have to, but for now, I’d like to do an ultrasound. Do you think you’ve had any bleeding or fluid leaking from your vagina?”
I shake my head and shrug. “I haven’t noticed or felt anything.”
“Let’s do a quick check.”
Sebastian heads in my direction as if he wants to be next to me during the exam and I glance up at him. “I’d like some privacy.”
He shakes his head, his features growing hard. He’s angry about that, but I’m already angry, so I don’t care. “I’m not leaving.”
The room grows quiet, the doctors and nurses visibly uncomfortable, and I don’t want to make this worse. “You stay over there then.”
He grunts but does as he’s told.
The doctor slides down my leggings and does a quick check. “No blood or fluid.”
“I didn’t think so,” I say as she helps me scoot them back up only to keep them low on my hips as they lower me down for an ultrasound.
They wheel the large machine in and dim the lights. It’s quiet in here, uncomfortably so, and all I can think about is the last time I had an ultrasound. I was so happy. So excited. Then everything fell apart and I’m terrified of what I’ll see now.
The doctor sits on a rolling stool beside the gurney and squirts warm lube on my belly and on the probe. “Let’s see how we’re doing.”
She places the probe over my baby bump and the screen swooshes to life, a mass of indiscernible images as she moves itaround before focusing in one spot. She clicks the keyboard on the machine and the image enlarges.
“There are your twins, Bellamy.”
Scalding tears hit my cheeks as I see them moving, see their heartbeats on the screen.
“Their heartbeats are strong, and they appear to be doing okay, but you are having some contractions.”
