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He came over to me and held my chin in his hands turning my head to the side. “This won’t scar, I think. It’s only a slight scratch.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, putting my hand up to my cheek. It stung and I took in a sharp breath, suddenly remembering the hissing sound by my head and the pressure against my cheek just before everything went crazy. “I almost got hit?”
“Yes,” he replied, his voice soft and grim. “I think you almost did.”
He put his arms around me then and crushed me to him, and I went willingly, shaken at yet another close call. First my room on the ship and now this? Was someone after me?
“I think they may be,” he replied, and I realized I must have said the words out loud. “But they won’t succeed. I have you now, and I won’t let anything happen to you again. I promise you that.”
He bent to kiss me, and I eagerly raised my face to his, but then the door opened, and the doctors came in with their machines.
They used them on me and fussed around the scratch on my face, asking me endless questions. One of them asked about the nausea and if it was any worse. I told him it wasn’t, but it was still there. He scanned my stomach and his face changed. He had a quick conference with the others, and they came over to scan me too. They spoke to each other in whispers, but they were speaking Lorian, so I couldn’t have understood them anyway.
Afterward, they bowed and finally left me in peace. The servants came in, bringing me more tea and toast. Ridiculously, I was hungry again, though it only took a little of the toast to fill me up.
Tariq told me Mikol was asking for him and left, saying he’d be back to check on me soon.
I lay back on the bed, snuggling my head down and went to sleep, and when I woke, Mikol was in my room, sitting by the bed. I was surprised and I jumped as I saw him staring at me, seeming to be lost in thought.
“How are you?” he asked, and I blushed.
“Embarrassed. I’m perfectly fine now. But I don’t think I want to go hunting game again any time soon. I shouldn’t have tried to go along when I haven’t been feeling well.”
He nodded absently and then took my hand in his. That alarmed me a little and I straightened up quickly. “What’s wrong?”
“Rakkur, the doctors think you’re pregnant. They say they’re sure. The first doctor missed it because you’re just barely pregnant. The pills you’re taking—the ones to make you ready for pregnancy—are known to cause extreme nausea in some patients. Then, naturally, some patients are nauseated anyway…because of the uh…the pregnancy. Anyway, they’re going to adjust your medication.”
“No, that’s all bullshit,” I said, using one of my omak’s favorite swearwords. “They can’t be right. They’re mistaken, Mikol, because it’s just not possible.”
He sighed but took my hand in his. “Honey,” he said softly. “They say they’re sure.”
He was calling me a name our omaks both used, and it was comforting, because he’d always been like an older brother to me, in a way, but at the same time it felt patronizing. I shook my head stubbornly. If anyone knew, it would be me, so I was sticking to my guns. After all, it was my body.
“I’m telling you, they’re wrong. It’s a mistake.”
He nodded, dropping my hand and sitting back in his chair. “All right, if you say so, then I won’t keep arguing. Blake will be arriving tonight, and he can help sort all of this out.”
“I do say so, and I am right. If anyone knows, it would be me. Omak’s had enough children to know too.”
“That’s fine, but in the meantime, the doctors insist you stay quietly in bed and rest.”
“I-I haven’t been exposed, Mikol. There’s no way I could be pregnant. Do you understand my meaning?”
“Perfectly. All right, don’t upset yourself. I’ll make your excuses to King Edam for dinner tonight.”
“Wait—does anyone else know about this? You have to stop them from repeating this shit, because what the doctors are saying is just not true.”
“Your medical history is private, of course.”
“And yet they told you.”
“I’m your nearest relative on Loros, Rakkur, and I’m in charge here, along with Kalen. But don’t worry. They didn’t inform anyone else of anything.”
“Well, good. Because there’s no possible way, if you know what I mean.”
“I’ll inform them. In the meantime, something is causing this illness, so until we know more, you should stay in your room and rest.”
I did as he asked and after he left, I read most of the afternoon. I’d thought Tariq would be back, and I was disappointed when he didn’t return. By the time supper rolled around, I was a little hungry, and ate most of the Tygerian vegetable stew I was served—one of Mikol’s favorites, I was told by the servers, along with some tea and some of the bread rolls I liked. Apparently, Mikol liked them too, and they were on his regular food shipment. I ate a few bites of stew but felt the by-now familiar nausea rising, so I finished just the rolls and drank a little water. I wished the doctors’ adjustments to my pills would hurry and kick in.
