Chapter 66-Enemies at First Sight #3
"I am choosing the one who communicates openly." The smaller twin released another furious cry. Elias nodded approvingly. "See? Honest. Direct. No deception."
The physician looked down at her. "She is hungry."
"Excellent. Clear demands. I respect that."
Veronica looked toward the quiet twin in her arms. "And what exactly is wrong with this one?" Elias's expression became solemn.
"She is evil ."
Veronica shut her eyes.
Achille looked toward the ceiling.
I laughed.
I could not stop it this time.
The sound left me weak and uneven, and pain pulled through my body almost immediately, but the laughter continued anyway.
Tears gathered at the corners of my eyes for reasons that had nothing to do with fear.
The physician near me smiled. One maid covered her mouth.
Another turned fully toward the wall because her entire body had begun shaking.
Elias looked pleased.
"You understand."
"No," I managed. "I do not."
"Your laughter suggests otherwise."
"I am laughing at you."
"Laughing at my misery after everything we've been through together and to think you loved me ."
Achille looked at me.
His anger faltered the moment he saw my face.
For the first time since the labor began, I was laughing without terror beneath it.
Veronica soon joined me, turning her face away the baby as though trying not to startle her.
The physicians stopped pretending. The maids gave up completely.
Even the smaller twin's cries seemed to merge with the noise until the entire room sounded alive in a way it had not for hours.
"I would like everyone to remember that I identified the threat first."
"There is no threat," Achille said, though laughter still roughened his voice.
"There will be."
"She cannot lift her head."
"Today."
"She cannot speak."
"Yet."
"But mark my words that little demon is plotting "
Elias looked down at the baby.
Her eyes had opened again.
Barely.
She faced generally in his direction, though whether she saw him remained impossible to determine. Her brows pulled together slightly. Her lips pursed.
"I have survived war, poisons, assassins, courts, your childhood, and Veronica."
Veronica's head snapped toward him.
"What the hell dose that mean?"
He continued before survival instinct could intervene.
"I am telling you now, that little girl will be the thing that finishes me."
Achille folded his arms.
"She looks like a crushed plum."
A physician made a choking sound.
Veronica laughed harder.
Elias stared toward Achille's daughter. "A very calculating plum."
Achille took another step.
Elias moved quickly behind the nearest physician.
The woman looked over her shoulder at him with alarm.
"Do not involve me."
"I require medical protection."
"You insulted the emperor's child."
"I offered an observation."
"You are on your own."
She stepped aside.
Elias found himself exposed.
Achille's mouth curved.
Not kindly.
"Come here."
"No."
"I only want to talk."
"That is never true when you roll up your sleeves."
"Get back here."
"No."
"You are hiding behind physicians."
"They have taken an oath to preserve life."
"Not yours specifically."
Elias looked toward Veronica. "Are you going to allow him to murder me in front of the children?"
Veronica adjusted the quiet twin, who remained completely unconcerned by the family dispute occurring around her.
"You created the situation."
"I am a victim."
"You called his daughter evil."
"She is."
Achille lunged.
Elias jumped behind the physician again, then changed direction so quickly that his knee struck the edge of a table.
I let out a sigh before asking "Can I have my children?"
The shift happened immediately.
The physician approached first with the smaller twin. She was still crying, though the sound had weakened into furious little complaints. When the bundle was placed into my arms, the weight barely seemed real.
She was so small.
Too small.
Warm through the blankets.
Her face remained red and tightly scrunched, damp dark hair pressed against her head. One fist had escaped the wrapping and rested beside her cheek, impossibly tiny and strangely determined.
She looked nothing like the perfect infants painted in royal portraits.
Nothing like the peaceful babies shown sleeping beneath golden blankets while their mothers smiled without sweat, blood, exhaustion, or terror.
My daughter looked furious.
She looked like an angry piece of bread.
A tiny, damp loaf of sourdough with hair and several complaints regarding her accommodations.
The second child was placed beside her.
She was slightly larger.
Not by much.
Enough to notice.
She did not cry.
She stared.
Or attempted to.
Her tiny face remained arranged into the same solemn expression that had offended Elias so completely. Her brows seemed drawn. Her lips pursed. She looked as though she had entered the world, examined everyone present, and decided none of us were meeting expectations.
Elias groaned in the corner while rubbing his knee
Achille turned. Elias immediately straightened. Achille's eye narrowed. Elias raised both hands.
"Elias," Achille said.
"Yes?"
"Please shut up."