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A Lick Of Frost :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 179 из 184"
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 above 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.
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 above 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.