Page 108 of Royal Caleva: Luis

“By all means,” Luis said.

“A chess player.” Raul looked triumphant.

“Nice!” Grace said. “Who designed King Arthur’s round table?”

Eve gave a little choke of laughter. When no one else spoke, she blurted, “Sir Cumference.”

Luis groaned along with the rest of them, but his heart was dancing. Eve and Grace had brought this lightness to his family and his life.

There was a long silence as everyone waited for him to contribute his own offering. He racked his brain, but all he could think of was the riddle of the Sphinx, and they would all know the answer to that. How could he not know a single other riddle? “Why are you looking at me? I’m the patient.”

“We were hoping you could come up with something better than Grace’s horrible pun,” Raul said.

“Oh, I can do worse,” Grace said. “What do you call the king’s tax collector?”

“I don’t want to know,” Raul said.

“Sir Charge!” Grace crowed.

“No, no more!” Raul groaned, burying his face in his hands.

Luis chuckled and looked at Eve. Her face was alight with laughter as she watched Grace and Raul behaving like the siblings they were, finding the same joy in their banter that he did. Their gazes met. A shadow of regret dimmed her soft brown eyes, and he wanted to pull her into his arms to tell her there was no need for that.

Instead, he balled up a handful of hospital blanket in one fist and squeezed in frustration.

A chime sounded from Raul’s phone. “Time’s up,” his son said, standing. “Pater needs to rest.”

“Ay, hijo mío, do not consign me to boredom again,” Luis objected. What he meant was that he wanted to cling to the happiness brightening his room. Even Mikel was sprawled casually in his chair.

But everyone else stood as well.

“What is happening here? It is treason to disobey your king’s commands,” Luis said in mock outrage.

“Not when the king refuses to listen to his doctors,” Eve said. “Treason becomes good sense.”

“That’s what all traitors say,” Luis grumbled.

He was somewhat mollified when Grace kissed him on the cheek and said, “I’m so glad you’re feeling better, Dad.”

The sound of Dad spoken in her delightful Midwestern accent sent a wave of warmth through him.

Mikel bowed, and Raul squeezed Luis’s shoulder as he said good night, his love and worry written on his face.

Luis waited to see what Eve would do. She nodded to him. “Get a good night’s sleep.”

He opened his hand, palm up, on the blanket, but she flushed and gave a tiny shake of her head. He did not mean to ask her to stay. That could not happen again. But he craved her touch.

She backed away from his bed, and he closed his fingers around empty air.

Patience was a virtue he had learned to cultivate.

CHAPTER 26

“Lunchtime! Yes!” Grace said as she and Eve were ushered into a sitting room in the palace the next day. A buffet table held a platter of finger sandwiches, a tray of artfully arranged tapas, and an assortment of cookies and miniature cakes.

When they had returned from the hospital that morning, they had been introduced to Carmen Molano, a stern, older woman with black hair and a black dress, who was in charge of preparing them for the announcement about Grace the next day. She had inspected their meager wardrobe and put together what she deemed appropriate outfits for them. The dark plum dress that Grace had worn for her first meeting with Luis passed muster, while Eve once again would wear her blue silk sheath. The royal photographer had been called in to approve the clothing and discuss hair and makeup. Then they had practiced waving because Grace would be presented in person to her new subjects on El Balcón de la Verdad, the Balcony of Truth, called that because the ruler was sworn always to speak the truth when he addressed his people from there.

Throughout it all, Eve worried about Luis. He had walked with a firm stride to the hospital elevator that morning, dressed in navy trousers and a light blue shirt, flanked by three bodyguards and Mikel. Yet the angles of his strong facial bones had jutted sharply under his drawn skin, and his face had held a gray pallor. He’d smiled as he lifted a hand in farewell, but it had seemed strained.

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