Chapter 34 – Marcella
MARCELLA
Islept like shit, tossing and turning, my heart heavy and my thoughts chaotic. I’d doze and dream about him. Dreams that would start wonderfully and turn ugly and dark. He’s supposed to come home today, and my plan is to keep my distance. He said he’d let me.
That’s how we got off the phone.
It’s over now, and I have to accept it. Hell, I made it so.
At least the three stooges are gone, and I can work without having to worry about them. I text Jaqueline to tell her that I love her and that I’ll be home soon. I don’t dare text her more than that. Antonia monitors our phones.
I can’t stomach food, but coffee is a must, and after I’ve downed my second cup, I head upstairs to start on the royal bedrooms. Except when I get to the king and queen’s, I find Bellamy still in bed, which is rare.
“Oh, Your Majesty, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude.”
“No, it’s fine,” she says. She’s on her left side with a large body pillow tucked around her. “I have a bad headache and didn’t feel like yoga this morning.”
I enter the room and shut the door behind me to give her privacy. “Can I get you anything?”
“No, but thank you. This pregnancy is kicking my ass. Along with this headache. It feels like a migraine. I used to get them as a kid but haven’t had one in years.
I’m nauseous, have blurry vision, and the light hurts my eyes.
” She laughs lightly. “I’m a mess. My legs are swollen too.
I’m a whale and can barely walk because of how swollen I am!
Plus, one of the babies must have settled under my right rib because the pain there is wicked. ”
“Maybe we should ring your doctor.”
“I’m seeing her tomorrow, and I was there two weeks ago. All she said was that my blood pressure was a little high and that we’d monitor it. I’m fine. It’s just a rough da—”
Before she’s able to finish her thought, her body jerks, and she lurches as if she’s going to launch herself out of the bed before she starts violently vomiting.
I fly toward her, grab her hair, and hold her body up, which is no easy feat with her large belly. She cries out in pain as more vomit covers the bed and floor.
“Oh god,” she wails between heaves.
I climb up onto my knees and hold her with one hand. With my other, I reach into my pocket and pull out my work phone. We have an emergency app, and I trigger the alarm.
“It’s okay,” I tell her. “I’ve got you. Help is on the way.”
“No. It’s just a migraine. It’s not a big deal.”
“We’ll let your doctor decide that.”
“No, no.”
“Bellamy, stop arguing.”
She sags and finally nods. “You’re right. I’m being dumb.”
Not even a minute later, the door bursts open, and two royal attendants are there with their freaking guns drawn.
“Whoa! Put those away! Her Majesty is very sick and needs to go to the hospital immediately. Please ring for an ambulance and get the king here.”
Guns are holstered and they speak into their wrists.
Bellamy collapses, and I gently set her down away from the mess before I race into the bathroom for a washcloth. I run it under cold water and return, clean up her face, and press it to her forehead. She’s not speaking, her eyes are closed, and her face is tense.
Panic consumes me, and I press two fingers to her wrist. Her pulse is racing.
I keep the washcloth on her forehead, whispering soothing words.
“I’m not dressed,” she mumbles. “I need to get dressed.”
“You’re wearing a shirt. What if I find you some sweatpants?”
She gives me a weak nod, and I go to her dresser, locate a pair of soft leggings, and return.
“Turn around,” I tell the guards. They obey, and I slowly help Bellamy to sit up. She sways in my arms, and I steady her, watching her face, which is paler than a sheet as I carefully slide her away from the vomit.
“I’m so sorry,” she says.
“No apologies, Madam.”
I help slide the pants onto her, noting just how swollen her ankles and calves are.
“I feel awful. My head is pounding, and my right side really hurts.” She emits a sob, trembling. “The twins. Oh god. They have to be all right. Sebastian is going to lose his mind with this.”
We finish getting her pants on, and her face falls into my chest as she openly weeps.
“Ambulance is fifteen minutes out,” one of the attendants tells me.
“His Majesty is—”
“Here. I’m here.” A frazzled king thrusts his way into the room, his eyes manic as he searches and finds me holding Bellamy.
“What happened? You were sleeping when I left you this morning.” He climbs on the bed behind her and runs his hand over her face and hair before he kisses her forehead. “My love, what’s wrong?”
His eyes seek mine, demanding answers.
I go into a quick account of how I found her, what she told me about how she was feeling, followed by the vomiting. He curses in Latin and picks her up, holding her in his arms. She melts into him, clinging tightly as she cries. He looks so helpless, and she looks afraid. It breaks me.
“What can I do?”
The king looks at me. “The cloth in your hand. Hand it to me.”
“Of course!” I can’t believe I didn’t. “I’m so sorry!” I hand him the wet cloth, which he puts on her forehead. “I’ll go grab a wheelchair.”
“No. I’ll carry her. It’ll take too long for you to do that with the current elevator system. Which is likely why you suggested we upgrade it.” He kisses her forehead. “My sweetness, I’m going to take you down to the ambulance. Javier will follow.”
“The children—”
“I can help with them,” I offer. “I’ll clean everything up in here, and between myself and Lady Althea, we’ll make sure the children are occupied all day.” I meet the king’s eyes. “I swear, I’ll take care of them. I swear.”
“Don’t tell them anything is wrong,” Bellamy pleads.
“I won’t,” I promise her. “I’ve got them, Your Majesties. Take care of yourself and your twins.”
“Thank you, Marcella,” Bellamy sobs as Sebastian lifts her off the bed, tucking her gently against his chest. “Thank you so much.”
The king throws me a grateful look. One I don’t expect. “Yes, thank you. Please let Althea know the plan.”
I nod.
“Marcella, I’m trusting you with this.”
“I understand, sir. I won’t let you down. I swear it.”
He nods. “Would you do me a favor and let Rowan know as well?”
I blanche. He knows about Rowan and me. It’s obvious he does. It shouldn’t shock me. They’re very close. But I had hoped our secret hadn’t gotten to the king or queen.
“Of course, Your Majesty.”
Without another word, he leaves the bedroom with Bellamy in his arms, the attendants following him.
I ring Lady Althea, who tells me she has the children and will take them to the big playroom after breakfast. I promise to join them shortly.
I send a large group message with a change of schedule for today without stating why, then with a pit clogging my throat, call Rowan.
It rings and rings, but he doesn’t pick up.
I leave him a message asking him to call me immediately and get to work on cleaning up the vomit that’s little more than bile.
I’m going against everything Signoria and Antonia want.
It feels good. I helped the queen when they would have wanted me to brush off her symptoms and keep her here, potentially putting her life or the life of her unborn children at risk.
It was instinct that had me helping her.
But I’m not the monster they tried to make me. I won’t ever be her again.
A sense of pride rolls through me. Where there is kindness, there is goodness. I have to believe that.
Once that’s finished, I head toward the playroom when my phone rings.
“What’s wrong?” he asks the moment I answer.
“Your Highness, the queen was very ill this morning and is currently on her way to the hospital with His Majesty. He requested that I call you to inform you of the situation.”
“Fuck,” he swears. “Is she okay?”
“I don’t know any of the details, sir—”
“For fuck’s sake, Marcella, don’t speak to me like that and tell me what the fuck is going on!”
“One moment, sir.”
I open a random door, which turns out to be a small parlor, and shut it behind me.
“I don’t know if she’s okay,” I tell him honestly.
“She had a horrible headache and was still in bed when I came in to clean the room. She complained of abdominal pain and generally not feeling well. Then she started vomiting, and I hit the emergency alert on my phone. I don’t think she wanted me to, but I had to.
She was so sick and didn’t seem right. By this point, she’s likely in the ambulance.
Lady Althea and I are going to watch the children and keep them occupied until we get further word. ”
“Jesus. I can’t…” A loud breath echoes through the phone. “I’ll leave for the hospital now. You might have saved her, you know.”
“I hope there’s no saving required. I hope it wasn’t anything more than a migraine.”
He’s moving around, things banging, zippers zipping. “Not quite the evil woman you want me to think you are.”
“Rowan, don’t.”
“I’m not doing anything other than stating a fact.” A pause, but I hear him moving, likely leaving the hotel. “Hold on. Don’t hang up,” he says to me before speaking to someone in French about how they have to leave immediately. “Okay, I’m back. Are we still broken up?”
“What?” chokes past my lips.
“You broke up with me last night. I was checking if you’d come to your senses while you were tossing and turning all night.”
I close my eyes and lean heavily against the door. “What makes you think I was tossing and turning?”
“A hunch. I was, too, in case you were wondering.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You’re smiling.”
Damn him.
“I am not.”
My smile grows.
“You are. I can hear it in your voice. I make you smile. I bet I even make you happy.”
“Don’t push your luck.”
“It’s all I’ve got with you. So…our breakup?”
I huff, tucking down the butterflies the man never fails to give me, along with my inane smile. “I didn’t break up with you because we were never together.”
“Oh, mia stella, we were definitely together. You’re my first girlfriend.”
I snort. “That’s present tense when you just told me I broke up with you. And at thirty-three, that’s sad. Especially since I wasn’t your girlfriend. Your delusions aren’t doing you any favors.”
“Either you broke up with me or you weren’t my girlfriend. Which is it because you just contradicted yourself.”
Crap! I totally did. Ugh. “The latter. I was never your girlfriend.”
“It was a trick question. You were my girlfriend, but I’ve decided that I don’t accept you breaking up with me.”
“Pardon?”
“I don’t accept.”
I shift my stance and lean all my weight against the door. “It’s not up for negotiation.”
“Ah, so you admit we were together.”
I bump the back of my head against the wood. “No. That’s not what I meant—”
“All the same, I thought about it, and I’m not allowing you to let the best thing to ever happen to you go. You said last night that you were doing it for me, but I’m doing this for you. You’re welcome.”
An incredulous laugh bursts from my chest. “Oh my god! You are so conceited!”
“Am I not the best thing to ever happen to you?”
He is and then some, but I’d rather die than tell him that.
“No. Your vibrator is.”
He laughs, and yep, my smile is back in full force along with those stupid butterflies.
“But you thought of me while you were using it,” he protests.
“You told me that last night before you tried to break up with me. And because I’m such a great guy—a total catch, I mean, I am a prince—and you’re so crazy about me, I’m informing you that I don’t accept your breakup and we’re still together. ”
I sigh. “I’m hanging up on you now, Rowan.”
“Sounds good, baby. I have to get to the hospital, and our GPS says we’re three hours away, which means it’s time for me to talk shop with my trusty driver. I’ll see you soon, though.”
Before I can argue further, he disconnects the call. I need to get to the playroom and help with the children. I need to come up with a solid plan that keeps everyone safe.
Except part of my tossing and turning last night, as he said I did, had me come to one brutal realization.
The only way to keep everyone safe is to eliminate the threat.
I wonder how fast the prince would change his mind if he knew the woman he’s calling his girlfriend is a lying murderer sent here to destroy his family.