Dark Swan Comic 1-4 by Richelle Mead
“Very well,” Shaya replied. Her tone was obedient, but I knew she dreaded that letter. She’d never lost her devotion to him, and I was forcing her to split her loyalties. “But we do need someone to manage the Rowan Land … unless you’re going to do it personally.”
“No,” I said swiftly, not that I needed to. She’d already known I had no interest in it. “Do you have someone in mind?”
“Yes…. Me.”
I wasn’t exactly surprised that she’d step up to the task. I was surprised, however, that she didn’t look particularly upset about it. Maybe she relished the challenge.
“I’m cool with that,” I said. “Hell, after what you did around here, I know you can get Rowan into shape. But … who’s going to run things here?”
“I was thinking Nia could.”
“Nia?” I asked, startled. “My hairstylist?”
Shaya crooked me a grin. “What do you think she does when you’re not around? She’s been helping me and learning…. I think she’d do very well. There’d be others to assist her, and, of course, she could always contact me.”
It was still an unexpected choice, but Shaya seemed confident. And, I supposed, we’d gotten the Thorn Land into good enough shape that it now functioned pretty smoothly.
“Okay,” I said at last. “Let’s make it happen. When do you plan on moving?”
“Today,” she said. “I’ll go when you go. My things are packed.”
I couldn’t help laughing. “You knew I’d agree. And you knew I’d refuse Dorian.”
Shaya put on her primmest look, but her eyes sparkled. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
I walked the Thorn Land before leaving, long enough to reassure the land I was there and boost the morale of the soldiers guarding my keep. Not that they needed it. We were victorious, and they were still celebrating. I’d donned my gold crown for the trip to the Rowan Land, and my men regarded me with adoration, calling out cheers for their brave, all-powerful queen. What would they do if they knew? I wondered. What would they do if they knew I was carrying a potential warlord? Somehow, it wasn’t much of a mystery. They would cheer more. They would worship me and revel in the chance to extend our rule.
It made me eager to go to the Rowan Land, where I was feared rather than adored. Of course, I didn’t know if that was any better. If those people knew I was carrying Storm King’s grandchild, it would simply intensify their fear and convince them more than ever that they were under the control of a tyrant queen. Kiyo was right, I realized. No one in the Otherworld could know about my pregnancy. Any reaction it drew would be a powerful one. The sooner I could leave, the better.
Borrowed soldiers from the Thorn Land still made up the bulk of the guard at Katrice’s former castle, and their expressions mirrored those of their colleagues back home. I played the part, smiling and walking among them confidently, not daring to show the fear and uncertainty I felt. Like the Thorn Land’s, the Rowan Land’s energy buzzed around me. Only I felt it, of course, but once, when I paused and talked to a guard for several minutes, I saw a small red flower growing where I’d stood. No one noticed, and I hastily headed for the castle, figuring nothing would sprout out of stone walls.
Rurik greeted us happily, having already known about Shaya’s new position. As we all converged, I saw something flash between them, something that surprised me. Affection. More than friendly affection. It was then that I also noticed a bracelet Shaya wore, made of emeralds and pearls. I’d seen it before. Girard had been working on it when I first met Imanuelle. It was the piece Rurik had commissioned. I tried not to gape as the truth hit me. Shaya and Rurik. They had a relationship going on, some romance, probably one that had been building right before me that I’d been too oblivious to notice. That was why she hadn’t minded taking on stewardship of a kingdom conquered through unorthodox means.
No one else seemed to notice—or maybe everyone already knew about them—but as I stood there and listened to more debriefings, I felt a pang in my chest. It was like Tim and Lara—and not because both couples were so bizarrely matched. No, the similarities came in that it was so easy for all of them. Just fall in love and go with it. No political machinations and motives. No world-altering prophecies to muck things up. I’d untangled myself from Dorian’s scheming—and not without a fair amount of heartache—but things with Kiyo now were irrevocably altered. No matter how my pregnancy panned out, even if it had as happy an ending as it could, I knew things between him and me would never be the same. I would never have an easy relationship.
Queasiness welled up in me, and I didn’t bother trying to figure out which of the myriad reasons could be causing it. I leaned against the wall as Rurik continued speaking about troop placement. Even though it wasn’t part of the land, the wall and castle’s foundation touched the land, and I felt that magic warm and comfort me. I took a deep breath. I could do this. Everything would be all right, just as I’d told Kiyo. I’d know my child’s gender soon. Then I’d know what to do.
My intention had been to stay around longer and make sure Shaya was settled in, but I soon decided I needed to get back. The others looked like they would have liked me to stay a little longer too, but they were also used to my weird—or as they considered them, “human”—ways. I assured them all that I had the utmost faith in them, reminded Shaya to rebuke Dorian, and then headed back to Tucson as soon as I could.
When I arrived home and analyzed how I’d been feeling today, it occurred to me that the transitions from world to world were making me sick. Transitioning wasn’t an easy feat in general; some couldn’t even do it. I’d grown adept at it, but now, it took its toll, even with the help of a gateway. I understood enough about pregnancy to know these annoying symptoms only lasted for a short time, but that didn’t negate their annoyance. I didn’t want anything slowing me down. I didn’t want to be hampered. My body was turning against me, and Kiyo’s urging just to end the pregnancy began to seem like a better and better idea. What did gender matter? I wasn’t ready for this.
He was relieved to see me back early and wrapped me up in another big embrace. “Everything’s okay?” he asked in a low voice. “Nobody found out?”
I shook my head. “No. And I’m not going back until … until this is settled. I’m also starting to think …”
“What?” he prompted.
“That you were right. That gender doesn’t matter. The test is so close, though … I’ll still do it. But. Well. Like I said, it doesn’t matter.”
Relief flooded his features. “I’m glad, Eug. It’s the right thing to do.” He hugged me again, and the hug was filled with more intensity. “You can always cancel the test.”
“No, I’ll do it. Especially after the fit I threw with my poor doctor.”
“I wish I could go with you,” he said wistfully. “But I’m not sure I can. I’m taking a couple of work shifts.”
Are you? Or are you running off to Maiwenn?
“It’s fine,” I said. “You wouldn’t be able to find out anything that day anyway.”
“But you’ll let me know the moment you know?” he asked, staring at me hard.
“The very moment.”
Kiyo might not have been able to go with me … but Jasmine did.
Ostensibly, I told myself it was because she couldn’t be left by herself. Yet, deep inside, when I really looked at my heart, I knew the truth. I didn’t want to go through this alone. I knew what the test entailed, and even if we got no answers today, it was still one step closer to what could be a huge event.
“You can do it, you know,” Jasmine told me.
I’d let her come into the exam room with me. It was dimly lit for the ultrasound equipment, and the doctor and tech had stepped out so I could change. Undressing in front of Jasmine felt weird, so I kept my back to her as I put on the hospital gown.
“Do what? This test?”
“No. I mean, yeah, whatever, you’ll be fine. But I mean, have the baby. Whatever it is. Even a boy. You can fulfill our
Gowned, I turned around. “No. That’s out of the question. If it’s a boy … well, I can’t have it. End of story. A girl … I don’t know. I’m probably not doing that either.” I couldn’t help adding, “Besides, I thought you wanted to be the heir’s mother.”
Her face was deadly earnest as she considered my words. “I did. But maybe I’m not meant to.”
The staff returned and situated me on the examining table while Jasmine retreated to a corner. They introduced themselves: Dr. Sartori and Veronica the tech. They explained the procedure to me, though I’d already read up on it several times. The doctor was going to—ack—stick a giant needle in me to collect cells and would use ultrasound to guide him. He made sure I understood the risk of such a test. A small percentage of women miscarried. Dryly, I told him I was willing to accept that.
Veronica raised the gown to bare my stomach. As she rubbed gel on it, I stared down wonderingly. Honestly? It looked no different than in the past. I’d always been skinny, and with my lack of appetite, I probably wasn’t putting on much weight. If not for my symptoms and Dr. Moore’s “very accurate” test, I never would have guessed what was inside me. And what was inside me? My stomach took on a strange, sinister countenance. Again, I had that feeling of my body’s betrayal. It was doing things out of my control.
“Okay,” said Veronica, moving the paddle to my stomach. “Let’s take a look.”
Both she and Dr. Sartori watched a black monitor that had my name, birthday, and a few other stats at the bottom of the screen. When the paddle made contact, the screen flared to life, showing the indecipherable gray and white confusion I’d always seen when people had ultrasounds on TV. I could make no sense of it nor see anything resembling a baby, but sound immediately accompanied the images, repetitive swishing noises, kind of like waves. I at least knew what that meant.
“That’s the heartbeat, isn’t it?” I asked, a strange feeling crawling over me. Heartbeat. Another creature’s heart inside of me.
Neither practitioner answered right away. Dr. Sartori frowned curiously, and Veronica shifted the paddle around to get more views.
“Huh,” said the doctor.
“What?” I exclaimed. Two immediate possibilities sprang to mind. One was that my gentry blood mixing with Kiyo’s kitsune blood had created some sort of monster. The other thought—one that suddenly offered a world of safety—was that there had been a mistake. The test wasn’t accurate, and I actually wasn’t pregnant. “Isn’t that the heartbeat?”
Dr. Sartori’s gaze fell on me, a small smile on his lips. “That’s the heartbeats. You have twins.”
Chapter 22
No one had to tell me the ways in which that exponentially complicated things. Jasmine’s gasp confirmed my many realizations.
“Two placentas,” said Veronica, pausing and typing something one-handed while still keeping hold of the paddle.
“What … what’s that mean?” I asked.
“It means they could be identical or fraternal,” said Dr. Sartori. “One placenta would be identical for sure.”
I swallowed. The noise, that wavelike sound … It was drowning me. My heartbeat, another heartbeat, and another still … How was it possible? How could there be so much life in one body?
“Can you still do the test?” I stammered out.
Dr. Sartori was holding the needle but made no moves as his eyes flicked back to the monitor. “I can … but it’s not recommended in this situation. With twins, the risks are increased.”
“I don’t care,” I said firmly. “I still want it. I have to know. With my family history …”
I prayed he wouldn’t demand too many details beyond what Dr. Moore had sent over. He and Veronica discussed a few things, using medical language I couldn’t follow. She used the paddle to check every angle, taking measurements on her computer as he occasionally pointed details out. Finally, after another warning against the procedure, he agreed to do it.
It hurt as much as you’d expect from a giant needle being stuck into you. His hands were superhumanly steady, as his eyes held firm to the monitor so he could watch the needle’s progress. I still couldn’t make out much in the images but knew the challenge was to get to the placenta without touching a fetus. Placentas, in this case. They had to get another test kit, using another needle in order to sample from both babies.
Babies.
I still couldn’t believe it. They helped me when they finished the test, loading Jasmine and me up with post-care instructions to reduce both self-injury and the risk of miscarriage.
Does it matter? I thought bleakly. A miscarriage would take the decision away from me. It’d be out of my hands.
For now, one tiny problem did present itself: getting home. I was sore and didn’t feel like driving. In fact, I’d been advised not to. Jasmine helpfully offered to.
“I know for a fact you don’t have a license,” I told her. I was leaning against my car, baking in welcome sunshine.
“No, but I can drive. Come on, it’s not that far. And you certainly can’t. What do you want to do? Call Tim and let him know what’s going on?” she challenged.
I wanted my mom, I realized. I wanted my mom to come and drive me home—to her home. I wanted her to take care of me and talk to me like she used to. I wanted her to fix all this.
I blinked rapidly and turned my head, not wanting Jasmine to see me tear up.
“Fine.” I held out the keys. “If we get pulled over, the ticket’s coming out of your allowance.”
To her credit, she drove responsibly, and she was right—it wasn’t far. I tilted my seat back slightly, wanting to sleep for the next few days or however long it would take to get back my results. I didn’t want to endure the waiting. I couldn’t endure the waiting. The car’s silence and rhythm nearly took me under until Jasmine spoke.
“So,” she said matter-of-factly. “If they’re boys, you get an abortion. If they’re girls …”
“Then I don’t.” I hadn’t realized I’d made my decision until that moment. When I’d heard those heartbeats … well, it didn’t matter if motherhood and drastic body changes scared the hell out of me. If I had two daughters, daughters unconnected to any prophecy, I would have them. I’d figure parenting out. “If they’re girls, I’ll keep them.”
She nodded and said nothing more until we were turning down my street. Honestly, I was surprised she waited that long because I’d already known what else she was dying to ask.
“Eugenie?”
“Yes, Jasmine?”
“What are you going to do if one’s a boy and one’s a girl?”
I stared ahead at my house. I suddenly didn’t want to sleep just for the next few days. I wanted to sleep for the next nine months. Or seven months. Or whatever. I didn’t answer her question.
“I can’t have a son,” I said at last. “You know that. That’s all there is to it.”
Chapter 23
I decided it would be best not to mention the twins thing to Kiyo. As it was, I was having a hard enough time processing it.
Twins.
Twins?
This was the ultimate “when it rains, it pours” cliché. I’d gotten pregnant through an idiotic slip, putting me right in the line of the prophecy I’d tried to avoid for so long. And now, just when I’d managed to coax an early test so I could nip this situation in the bud, I was faced with a potential situation that I never, never could have foreseen.
Kiyo had been right. I should have terminated the pregnancy the instant I found out, before I knew more about it. It was becoming real now. Every detail I learned made it more substantial, giving more life to what I carried within me. It’s not too late. You don’t have to wait for the results. Maybe it’s better if you don’t.
I’d boldly told Jasmine that I’d keep the twins if they were girls, but the reality of that was harsh. How would I raise two children
Money.
“You’re going to be in serious trouble if you don’t start working again soon,” Lara told me the day after I’d seen the doctor. She’d spent the night again and was sitting at my kitchen table with me. In front of her, a laptop showed an array of spreadsheets. “You’re still okay … but it won’t last. Part of your money goes into the business’s account—the one I’m paid from. The other profits go to your savings. The first one’s running pretty low … and if it goes empty …”
“We go into my savings,” I finished.
She nodded. Her face was grim, a far cry from the giddiness she’d shown when she and Tim had stumbled out of bed this morning. A bitter part of me thought maybe I could pick up extra cash by charging her rent. I dismissed that, of course. None of this was her fault.
“I know there’s … stuff … going on, Eugenie, but why can’t you start taking more jobs? You cut the workload before, and we still did okay, but now … there’s next to nothing. Your savings can’t hold out that long. And what on earth did Enrique do that got us such a large bill?”
I ignored that and simply stared at the numbers on the screen, my heart sinking. “I’ve got a lot of equity in the house.”
“What?” Her jaw nearly dropped. “You’d risk your house instead of just taking on more work?”
A terrible image came to my mind: me, trapped in some small apartment with two screaming babies. End it, just end it.