“I’m not dressed,” she mumbles. “I need to get dressed.”
“You’re wearing a shirt. What if I find you some sweatpants?”
She gives me a weak nod, and I go to her dresser, locate a pair of soft leggings, and return.
“Turn around,” I tell the guards. They obey, and I slowly help Bellamy to sit up. She sways in my arms, and I steady her, watching her face, which is paler than a sheet as I carefully slide her away from the vomit.
“I’m so sorry,” she says.
“No apologies, Madam.”
I help slide the pants onto her, noting just how swollen her ankles and calves are.
“I feel awful. My head is pounding, and my right side really hurts.” She emits a sob, trembling. “The twins. Oh god. They have to be all right. Sebastian is going to lose his mind with this.”
We finish getting her pants on, and her face falls into my chest as she openly weeps.
“Ambulance is fifteen minutes out,” one of the attendants tells me.
“His Majesty is?—”
“Here. I’m here.” A frazzled king thrusts his way into the room, his eyes manic as he searches and finds me holdingBellamy. “What happened? You were sleeping when I left you this morning.” He climbs on the bed behind her and runs his hand over her face and hair before he kisses her forehead. “My love, what’s wrong?”
His eyes seek mine, demanding answers.
I go into a quick account of how I found her, what she told me about how she was feeling, followed by the vomiting. He curses in Latin and picks her up, holding her in his arms. She melts into him, clinging tightly as she cries. He looks so helpless, and she looks afraid. It breaks me.
“What can I do?”
The king looks at me. “The cloth in your hand. Hand it to me.”
“Of course!” I can’t believe I didn’t. “I’m so sorry!” I hand him the wet cloth, which he puts on her forehead. “I’ll go grab a wheelchair.”
“No. I’ll carry her. It’ll take too long for you to do that with the current elevator system. Which is likely why you suggested we upgrade it.” He kisses her forehead. “My sweetness, I’m going to take you down to the ambulance. Javier will follow.”
“The children?—”
“I can help with them,” I offer. “I’ll clean everything up in here, and between myself and Lady Althea, we’ll make sure the children are occupied all day.” I meet the king’s eyes. “I swear, I’ll take care of them. I swear.”
“Don’t tell them anything is wrong,” Bellamy pleads.
“I won’t,” I promise her. “I’ve got them, Your Majesties. Take care of yourself and your twins.”
“Thank you, Marcella,” Bellamy sobs as Sebastian lifts her off the bed, tucking her gently against his chest. “Thank you so much.”
The king throws me a grateful look. One I don’t expect. “Yes, thank you. Please let Althea know the plan.”
I nod.
“Marcella, I’m trusting you with this.”
“I understand, sir. I won’t let you down. I swear it.”
He nods. “Would you do me a favor and let Rowan know as well?”
I blanche. He knows about Rowan and me. It’s obvious he does. It shouldn’t shock me. They’re very close. But I had hoped our secret hadn’t gotten to the king or queen.
“Of course, Your Majesty.”
