She gave me a frightened look as she cleaned. When I did not look away, she held my gaze. There was a moment of great fear in her face. Fear for herself, and maybe, fear for me. Fear of Taranis. Someone had said that the Cu Sith had stopped him from striking a servant. Where was the Cu Sith now?
Something scratched at the door, I did not need to see the door to know that it was something large wanting inside.
Taranis's voice. "Chase that beast away from my door."
"King Taranis," the healer said, "Princess Meredith is beyond my ability to heal."
"Heal her!"
"Many of the herbs I would use would harm the children she carries."
"Did you say children?" he asked, and he sounded almost normal, almost sane.
"She carries twins." She had simply taken my word for it. I appreciated that.
"My twins," he said, and his voice was back to that arrogant crowing. He came back to the bed, sat on it, made me bounce. The headache and nausea roared back to life. I cried out as he scooped me up in his arms. The movement was agony.
I screamed, and the sound hurt me, too.
Taranis seemed frozen by my scream, He stared down at me, almost childlike in his lack of comprehension.
"Do you want your children to die?" the healer said from beside him.
"No," he said, still frowning and confused.
"She is mortal, my king. She is fragile. You must let us take her somewhere where they can heal her, or your children will die unborn."
"But they are my children," he said, and it was more question than fact.
She looked at me, then said, "Whatever the king says is truth."
"She bears my children," he said, and he still sounded a little unsure of himself.
"Whatever the king says is truth," she repeated.
He nodded, hugging me a little more gently. "Yes, my children. Lies, all lies. I was right. I just needed the right queen." He leaned down and laid the softest of kisses on my forehead.
The scratching at the door was louder. Taranis screamed, and stood with me in his arms, "Go away, foul dog!"
The movement was too abrupt and I threw up on him. He dropped me to the bed while I was still vomiting. The brown-eyed servant girl caught me, steadied me, so I did not fall from the bed to the floor. She held me while I threw up until there was nothing but bile and bitterness. Blackness tried to swallow the world again, but the pain was too great.
I lay in the maid's arms and moaned with the pain of it. Goddess and consort, help me!
The scent of roses came like a soothing wave. The nausea eased. The pain became a duller ache instead of a blinding thing.
The brown-eyed maid and the healer began to clean me again. Most of it had gone onto the king, but not all.
"Let us help you clean up, my lord," the other maid said.
"Yes, yes, I must clean myself."
The brown-eyed maid looked up at the healer and the guard. The healer said, "Go with your fellow servant, help the king to bath. Make certain he has a long, relaxing bath."
The maid's body tensed a little, then she said, "As the healer wishes, so shall it be."
The healer directed the blond guard to take me from the woman. He hesitated.
"You are a battle-hardened warrior. Does a little sickness make you flinch?"
He scowled at her. His eyes flared with a hint of blue fire before he said, "I will do what is needed." He took me from the maid. He took me gently enough, while the healer said, "Support her head most carefully."
"I have seen head wounds before," the guard said. He did his best to keep me still. When the far door to the bathroom closed behind the king and the maids, the guard stood just as carefully with me in his arms.
The healer went for the door, and he followed without a word. The scratching at the door held whining now, and when they opened the door the Cu Sith stood there like a green pony. It gave a soft woof when it saw us.
The healer whispered, "Hush."
The dog whined, but quietly. It came to the guard's side, so that its fur brushed my bare feet. The touch of it sent a thrill through my body. I waited for my head to hurt, but it didn't. I actually felt a tiny bit better.
We stood in a long marble corridor lined with gilt-edged mirrors. There were two lines of Seelie nobles in front of those mirrors. Each man and woman had at least one faerie dog at their side. Some were the elegant greyhounds like my own poor dogs. I prayed that Minnie would be all right. She had been so still.
Some of the dogs were the huge Irish wolfhounds, as they'd been before the breed had almost died out. These were nothing that had ever mixed with other breeds. They were giants, huge fierce things, some slick of fur, some rough. The looks in their eyes had nothing to do with sight and everything to do with battle. They were war dogs fierce enough that the Romans had feared them and collected them for the arena.