“Bellamy wouldn’t stand for them to be alone,” he says as if he had to explain himself.
“I’m happy to stay with them.”
“They’re so tiny, Rowan. Look at them. Tubes in their mouths and noses and through their umbilical cords. I’ve been talking to them so they hear my voice.”
“They’re hanging in there.”
“Yes,” he agrees before he looks up at me, sincerity dripping from him. “Thank you for being here.”
“I’m glad I was.”
I sit in the rocking chair by their incubators, and Sebastian leaves to be with Bellamy. I must fall asleep once again because when I wake, it’s daylight, and the NICU is buzzing with life. I sit up in the chair and get treated to the best sight ever, Bellamy holding one of the babies and Sebastian holding the other.
Except. “Oh fuck,” I hiss and turn away, my eyes closing.
Bellamy laughs, then whimpers. “Don’t make me laugh, Rowan. I had my stomach cut open not long ago.”
“You could have warned me you were…what the hell are you doing?”
“Pumping. I can’t feed them yet as they still have tubes in their mouths, but they encouraged me to hold the baby against my skin and pump, as it’ll help stimulate my milk production.”
“Keep your eyes off my wife’s breasts.”
I hold up a hand. “Gladly. Jesus.” I sit up a little straighter and scrub my hands up my face. “What time is it?”
“A little after six,” Sebastian tells me. He has one of the twins on his bare chest with a blanket over them. “Althea got your text, and so did Javier and Gabe.”
“Good. How are you feeling?” I ask Bellamy in English since that’s all she’s speaking right now.
“Like I’ve been cut open and had my insides ripped out of me. But I’m okay. Better now that I can hold them.”
“You’re a natural. And how are you?” I ask my brother.
“Exactly as Bellamy said.”
I nod, not the least bit shocked by that. “What can I do?”
“Go home and shower,” Bellamy teases. “You look like crap.”
I smile. “I see we’re careful with our colorful language now that we’re around the twins.”
“Yes, we are,” she asserts.
“Good luck with that, Your Majesty.”
“No making me laugh, Rowan!”
“Right.” I hold up a hand. “Sorry. Apologies.”
“Why don’t you stay a bit longer, at least through rounds, then go home? The children will have a lot of questions. And so will Gabe and Javier.”
38
MARCELLA
When I step out of my bedroom door, the palace is buzzing. People are in the halls talking, and there’s movement everywhere I look. It’s odd for a Saturday, which is typically a quiet day. I switched my day off with Astrid, one of the other servants. Signoria Batorini texted yesterday evening, telling me she was going to be in Tourin this morning at eight instead of tomorrow at ten and that I had to meet her.
I don’t stop to talk to anyone. I don’t listen to the chatter. I make my way upstairs to the royal side and go straight for his room. It’s in the same disarray it was in last night when I left it, and my heart lurches.