13. SALETTIN'S DECISION

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Salettin fled the D'ey Sol-A'nden mansion. He knew his father would watch his beloved during his absence through the vid monitor, but at least the old man couldn't enter the room. For now, Chala was safe, but Salettin realized he might not be. Neither parent liked their wills thwarted, and they both had unpleasant ways of getting even.

As soon as he reached his apartment, he intended to cancel all future balls, no matter how offended people became. Neither he nor his Chala owned the ability to pretend that everything was wonderful any longer.

The sound of screaming greeted him.

Bassford met him at the door, out of breath.

"Tiffin's ready to deliver. She insists you to take her to the hospital. She won't allow anyone else to touch her. She says that if you're with her, her child won't die."

"Call her physician to come here."

"He refuses."

Salettin ran into her room. When he saw her, drenched in sweat, his heart leaped in his chest. No, he refused to allow her to believe that this one, her third baby, was still-born also, no matter what Alrenn wanted and his father wanted.

"Bassford, call the Lady's doctor, the one who has cared for Chala most of her life. See if he'll come. Tell him the situation, and that we need him to hurry, if he will." He possessed the authority to insist, but this time he asked, because he wanted more of Chala's doctor than the delivery of an infant.

He sat beside her on the bed. "This one won't die," he told her, holding her hand. "I'll see to it personally."

She gave him a wan smile, panting instead of screaming.

He patted her hand.

"He says he'll come," Bassford said from the door. He turned on his heel, leaving Salettin with Tiffin.

"I'll get to hold my baby," she whispered, more to herself.

And how is that going to happen? You held each one of your babies, Tiffin, but Mother forced you to forget.

She, a Normal, heard nothing, of course, but she smiled at him in complete trust.

Her pleasant smile turned into a cry.

"How long since the last contraction?" a voice from the doorway asked.

"Less than a minute." Salettin had assisted in the birth of a raska years ago. The veterinarian had asked the same question.

"I arrived just in time. You may leave now, Prince Salettin." Doctor Wulf Gilliam strode briskly from the door.

"It wasn't a suggestion. I will let you know when you can return."

Salettin met Bassford in the kitchen.

"My lord Salettin, you shouldn't indulge in her. You know that."

He nodded. He knew. He also knew that his father would rage—again. But instead of answering, he opened the cold storage container and pulled out some meat, cheese and cut vegetables, making himself a plate.

"You should let me do that."

"Nonsense." He hated the hovering of servants like Bassford, something he never needed to endure when he lived with his uncle. How he hated being a prince. If he had known about the contract between his uncle and his father, he would have married someone just to avoid doing anything with his father. His businesses provided a lucrative income, making him very wealthy, without all the fuss his father found so important.

While he chewed, he mulled over what to do about Tiffin's baby. If he allowed her to keep it, she would want to nurse it. She would need baby things. What did babies need, anyway? She would need her own space.

He looked around the kitchen, imagining what this place would be like with a baby.

"I need to make some calls," he told Bassford, rising from the table. "I'm going to my office. Send Dr. Gilliam there when he's done."

Bassford gave a stiff nod.

Salettin shut the door behind him and pressed a code on the vid. Although he could have ordered Bassford to do this for him, he decided to cancel the remaining parties himself.

Then he contacted a few other people, hoping his father focused on Chala instead. Besides, he only needed to get through Bassford, his father's eyes and ears.

An hour later, when Dr. Gilliam knocked on his office door, he had put everything in place.

"You wanted to see me?" Gilliam looked less than pleased.

"One moment." He gestured to a chair. "Have a seat. I'll be back shortly."

He found Bassford in the kitchen as if fixing something, but nothing remained in front of him, and he had just been on the vid, Salettin noted. The residue of his servant's surface thoughts were just beginning to dissipate. That meant only minutes remained before his father's people got here.

"I've invited Dr. Gilliam to dine with me in my study. Please get us an Usamptu dinner from that nice little restaurant on the next pad. You can set my corner table when you return."

Bassford nodded slowly as if reluctant to comply, but he knew better than to argue with his master.

As soon as Bassford left, he went into Tiffin's room. "Come with me, my darling. I have a real treat for you, but you must remain out of sight for at least twelve hours. Will you do that?"

"My lord Salettin?"

He smiled, filling her with the sense that she pleased him like no other. "Come along now. It's a surprise."

Salettin ushered Tiffin out of the apartment and into the elevator. He pressed the button to another floor, and walked her to a door.

A woman stood beside the door. As soon as she saw the prince, she bowed low. "The place is ready, Master."

He reached in his pocket and gave her a handful of plastifoil wens. "My way of thanking you for having the place ready on such short notice."

She handed him a keycard, then bowed.

He watched as she disappeared down the hall.

"This is your apartment, for now," he said to Tiffin as he opened the door for her. "Please do not call me at my apartment, or Bassford will know where you are. He is under orders to whisk you and your baby away." He handed her the keycard.

"Who ...?"

"No matter. Just don't open the door for anyone. I have a second keycard. No one else has one. I will send you a meal soon. In the meantime, please rest. I'll return shortly with some supplies."

"My lord Salettin!" Her eyes flooded with tears.

"Shh. Now, wait for me. I promised that your baby would live. If you do everything I say, we just might make that happen."

"But ..."

He kissed her, but refused to let it linger. The next step depended on the Lady's personal physician to agree.

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