A Lick of Frost (Merry Gentry #6)(49)

“No,” I said.
His eyes glittered, but not with magic. “Did he take you against your will?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
A tear trailed from each of his beautiful eyes. He gave a small bow. “Command me.”
I hoped I knew what he wanted me to do. I spoke as loud as I dared with my head pounding. “I, Princess Meredith NicEssus, wielder of the hands of flesh and blood, granddaughter of Uar the Cruel, command you to step aside and let us pass.”
He bowed lower, and moved aside, still in that bow.
Major Walters spoke on his radio again. “We’re coming through. Repeat, we’re bringing the princess through. Clear the doors.”
The sounds of fighting grew louder. The blue-eyed guard spoke into the air. “Stand down, men. The princess is leaving.”
The fighting slowed, then there was no sound. The blue-eyed guard nodded at the other guards, and they opened the great doors.
Doyle moved up closer to me as Hugh carried me forward. For a moment I thought it was a magical attack of light, then I realized that it was lights for moving cameras and flashes for still ones. I closed my eyes against the blinding glare, and Hugh carried me through the doors. 
CHAPTER 29
I WAS BLIND FROM THE LIGHTS. MY HEAD FELT LIKE IT WAS going to explode from the assault of it all. I wanted to scream at them to stop, but was afraid that would only make it all hurt worse.
I closed my eyes and tried to shield them with one hand. There was shadow against the light, and a woman’s voice. “Princess Meredith, I’m Doctor Hardy. We’re here to help you.”
A man’s voice. “Princess Meredith, we’re going to put you in a neck brace. It’s just a precaution.”
There was a wheeled stretcher beside us suddenly, as if it had just sprung into being. The medical team started to swarm me. Dr. Hardy was shining a light in my eyes, trying to get me to follow it. I could follow it, but the other hands that I couldn’t see lifting me, starting to do things to me, panicked me.
I started to slap at them, to make small helpless sounds. I don’t know what it was about what they were doing, but it was too much. I couldn’t see who was touching me. I couldn’t see what they were doing. I didn’t understand what was happening. I could not bear it.
“Princess, Princess Meredith, can you hear me?” Dr. Hardy asked.
“Yes,” I said in a voice that didn’t sound like me at all.
“We need to get you to a hospital,” Dr. Hardy said. “To transport you there are things we need to do. Can you let us do those things?”
I wasn’t so much crying as tears just seemed to be sliding down my face. “I need to know what you’re doing. I need to see who’s touching me.”
She looked behind me at the barrage of media. The police had moved in to form a wall against them, but they would hear most of what we said. The doctor leaned very close to me. “Princess, were you raped?”
“Yes.”
Major Walters bent close, too, “I am sorry, Princess, but I have to ask. Who did it?”
A sidhe guard by the door said, “The Unseelie did it, as they raped Lady Caitrin.”
“Shut up!” Major Walters said. Then he turned back to me. “Is that true?”
“No,” I said.
“Then who?”
“Taranis knocked me unconscious and I woke naked in his bed with him beside me.”
“Liar!” the guard behind us said.
Shanley, who was in charge of these men, said, “She took an oath on it.”
“So did our king.”
“I cannot help that,” he said.
“Taranis hurt me. He and no other. I swear it by the Darkness that Eats all Things.”
“You are mad to make such an oath,” a voice I didn’t know said.
“Only if she lies.” I think that was Sir Hugh. But there was so much noise, so many voices. The press had begun to yell at us. They shouted their questions, their theories. We all ignored them.
Dr. Hardy began to speak quietly to me, to explain what was happening to me. She began to introduce me to her team. She would explain, and only then would they touch me. It began to help me lose that edge of hysteria.
Only when a voice sounded on the microphone that I still had not seen did I make them stop. The voice said, “We have told you what happened to the princess. The Unseelie guard who were supposed to protect her beat and raped her. Our king saved his niece from them and brought her to sanctuary here.”
It was too much. No matter how I felt, I could not let them ship me to a hospital and leave that lie in the ears of the media.
“I need a microphone, please. I need to tell the truth,” I said.
Dr. Hardy didn’t like it, but Hugh and others backed me up, and they rolled me to the front of the room. They insisted that I keep the choking closeness of the neck brace on. I was already hooked up to an I.V. Apparently my blood pressure was low and my body was a little shocky.The doctor stepped up to the microphone.
“I am Dr. Vanessa Hardy. The princess needs to get to a hospital, but she insists on talking to you. She is injured, and we need to get her to a hospital. This will be quick. I hope that is clear?”
Several of them said, “It is clear.”
The press secretary was all pink and gold and sidhe beauty. She didn’t want to give up the mic. She’d heard enough from the doorway to worry her.
It was Agent Gillett who took it from her, and held it for me. You could feel the eagerness of the press like a sort of magic of their own.
A voice called, “Who hit you?”
“Taranis,” I said.
There was a collective sigh of eagerness and an explosion of flashes. I closed my eyes against it.
“Did the Unseelie rape you?”
“No.”
“Were you raped, Princess?”
“Taranis knocked me unconscious and kidnapped me, and I woke nude in his bed. He says we had sex. I will be taking a rape kit at the hospital. If it comes back positive for an unknown, then yes, my uncle raped me.”
The police were holding the press secretary and some of the sidhe back by force. Some of the nobles and the dogs were helping them mind the crowd. I heard growls around me. The loudest was next to me. The great black head touched my hand. I raised fingers to stroke Doyle’s fur. That one small touch was more comfort than anything else had been.
Dr. Hardy yelled above the chaos, “The princess has a concussion. I need to get her to X-ray or a CAT scan to see how serious it is. So we’re leaving now.”
I said, “No.”
“Princess, you said you’d go quietly if you told the truth.”
“No, it’s not that. I can’t have an X-ray. I’m pregnant.” Agent Gillett was still holding the microphone close enough that the room had heard that. If we thought there had been chaos before, we’d been wrong.
The press were yelling, “Who’s the father? Did your uncle make you pregnant?”
Dr. Hardy leaned close and whispered/shouted above the cacophony, “How far along are you?”
“Four to five weeks,” I said.
“We will treat you and your baby like gold,” she said.
I would have nodded, but the neck brace kept me from doing so. I finally said, “Yes.”
She looked up at someone I couldn’t see and said, “We need to get her to a hospital now.”
We began to push our way toward the door. There were two main reasons we were having problems moving. One was the press. They all wanted one last image, one last question answered. The second was the Seelie guards and nobles who opposed Hugh. They wanted me to stay with them. They wanted me to recant. 
Inhumanly beautiful faces kept hovering over me, saying things like, “How can you lie about our king? How can you accuse your own uncle of such a crime? Liar. Lying bitch,” was the last one before the police got very serious about keeping the golden throng away from my face.
They tried to chase away the black dog, but I said, “No, he’s mine.”
No one questioned it. Dr. Hardy only said, “He doesn’t go in the ambulance.”
I didn’t argue. Just Doyle beside me, in any form, was an improvement. Every brush of his fur against my hand was better.
There were so many people around the stretcher, so much light, that the only way I knew we were finally outside was the brush of night air against my face. It had been night when Taranis took me. Was it the same night, or the next night? How long had he had me?
I tried to ask what day it was, but no one heard me. The press had followed us outside the sithen. They trailed us with shouted questions and mobile lights.
The wheels of the gurney didn’t like the grass. The bumps made my head ache more. I fought not to make small sounds of pain, and was able to do it until the medics closed around us so that I could no longer touch Doyle’s fur. The moment I lost contact with him the pain was worse.
I spoke his name before I could stop myself. “Doyle,” I said softly, a plea.
The huge black head shoved its way under the doctor’s arm. It made her stumble. She tried to shove him away, saying, “Shoo.”
“I need him, please.”
She frowned at me, but she dropped back a step so the dog could be closer to me. Close enough that my hand could caress his fur on most of the bumpy ride. I’d never realized how uneven the grass around the mounds was until smoothness was what I needed. It had always seemed like such level ground until this moment.
One of the cameras peered over the shoulders of the medics. The light blinded me. The pain spiked hard and sharp, and nausea came with it.