But the pitying twist of her mouth she tries to hide tells me just how rough I look.
I walk down the hall, keeping my head low and my arms heavy. It’s quiet and dark on this end, and I don’t want to go into Bellamy’s room. That feels like an invasion. I don’t know why I’m here other than I had to leave the palace and have nowhere else to go.
I lean against the wall and sag to the floor, drawing my knees up. My forearms fall across them, and I bury my face. I can still smell her everywhere on me. Can still taste her. I thought there was good in her. I thought whatever she was there to do, she was losing faith in it. I was wrong.
I have two guards on her room, and the tracking on her phone isturned on.
Sunday is her day off, but if she’s not gone by the end of it, I’ll have her fired and thrown out. Or thrown in jail. I can’t be stupid anymore. I have to protect my family. No more fighting her and the curse together. Or maybe she’s its weapon. Maybe that’s how the curse sinks its talons into me. Through her.
I must doze off because the next thing I know, there’s a scream and a flurry of footsteps and shouts. I jolt awake, my head slamming back against the wall. Dazed, I shoot up to my feet, nearly toppling over as nurses and doctors rush past me into Bellamy’s room.
Sebastian is shouting, Bellamy is screaming, and my heart takes flight.
“What’s happening?” I ask, but no one spares me a glance. There’s a team of doctors and nurses in her room. Words likeplacental abruptionandfetal distressfly around. Things likecrash C-sectionandpropofol.
A half-second later, Bellamy is wheeled out of her room, an oxygen mask on her face, and tears all over her. Sebastian is right beside her, his expression harried. Our eyes briefly meet, but he doesn’t stop. He stays with the gurney, holding Bellamy’s hand as they run her down the hall.
I follow after them, unsure what to do, my legs shaky, barely able to keep me upright.
Fuck you! You don’t get to take them. Not any of them. They’re not yours to claim.
I pick up my pace to a run, chasing after the gurney, but I’m stopped by a hand in my face as I approach the OR.
“I’m sorry, Your Highness, you can’t go in there.”
The nurse goes to the OR, and that’s when I see Sebastian standing by the door, trying to peer in. Silently, I walk over and stand beside him, my hand on his shoulder, and my heart in my throat.
“Your Majesty, you shouldn’t be?—”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he clips, and the nurse nods. He’sthe king and Bellamy’s husband, and good luck trying to fight him.
She enters the OR, leaving us here alone in the hall.
“It came out of nowhere,” he mumbles. “She was asleep. The babies’ heartbeats were fine. Then her back arched and she tensed, and a second later, she screamed. It was like something went into her body and ripped her apart, and now she’s in there, and I can’t be with her. I can’t be with them.”
I hiccup a silent sob, tears tracking down my cheeks.
“They’re putting her under, and she won’t get to see them. What if she never wakes up? What if she dies on that table and she never gets to meet them?”
“She won’t,” I tell him emphatically. “That’s Bellamy on that table.”
He doesn’t reply, and I don’t blame him.
“How…” I gulp. “How far along are the twins again?”
“Thirty-one weeks. They’ll be small. One baby would be small at that age. Twins will be even smaller.”
“But they gave them steroids,” I persist, though I don’t know why. There is no comfort right now.
“They told us yesterday that they wanted at least twenty-four hours for their lungs to mature. It hasn’t been that.”
I swallow and hold still as they cut into Bellamy’s stomach. She’s unconscious on the table, a mask still on her face to help her breathing. Sebastian is shaking and turns around, putting his back to the door.
“I can’t watch them cut her. Can you…can you?”
“I’m here.”
“What are you doing here, Rowan?”