Page 114 of Royal Caleva: Luis

Eve stood apart from the royals, her hands knotted together in front of her to stop their trembling. Then the shakiness migrated to her knees. As she looked around at the faces marked by the unmistakable Dragón features, all she wanted to do was slink away through a side door. Only her love for Grace kept her in this room where she did not belong.

The press conference had been sensational, the reporters beside themselves with excitement at the story of the unknown princess. Eve had watched it on a video monitor in a private room. The conference had also been broadcast to giant screens set up on the plaza outside the palace. The clamor of the crowd had penetrated even the three-foot-thick castle walls.

Luis looked every inch a modern-day monarch in his dark gray suit, pale blue shirt, and lily-red tie. On camera, he radiated power, strength, and authority. Only Eve, Grace, and Raul knew how much makeup it had taken to give Luis’s skin that healthy glow.

When Grace had given her prepared speech from memory in a bell-clear voice without a tremor, Eve had nearly burst with pride in her daughter. Grace was more than worthy to be la Princessa del Vaho.

Now her daughter stood with her father and Raul, the three of them forming a unit that excluded Eve.

She had known this would happen, but it still sank fangs of sharp jealousy and aching loneliness into her soul.

The king’s assistant, Bruno, went to the balcony doors. “Su Majestad, would you like to greet your people now?” he asked in a formal tone.

Luis looked at Grace, who took a deep breath and nodded. Luis stepped toward the door, Raul on his right side and Grace on his left. The rest of the family arrayed themselves in the places they had rehearsed the day before. Eve found her assigned position beside Gabriel. He flashed a reassuring smile at her. When she tried to return it, the muscles of her mouth wouldn’t cooperate.

“Just smile and wave,” he said in a low voice. “That’s all that is required.”

In fact, she and Grace had been warned not to say anything—unless it was totally innocuous—because the media employed lip-readers.

Bruno and another staff member pulled open the doors, and the roar of the crowd surged into the room like a tidal wave. Eve tried to will her knees not to buckle as she stepped onto the balcony a pace behind the king and his two children.

The huge plaza was packed with people, some waving Calevan flags of teal, red, and gold. The spectators clung to lampposts, filled balconies, perched on roofs, and overflowed onto the streets that fed into the plaza.

As Grace lifted her hand in the wave they had been taught by Carmen, the crowd began to chant, “La Princessa! La Princessa!”

Eve’s quaking terror got shoved aside for a moment as she reveled in her daughter’s triumph. Grace was not just being acknowledged by her father. She was being embraced by an entire country.

When Luis put his arm around Grace’s shoulders, the chant changed to, “El Rey Luis! La Princessa!”

As Gabriel raised his hand, the roar grew louder. He was considered a hero in Caleva, not to mention a famous musician, so he was tremendously popular. Happy to stand in his shadow, Eve locked her knees and put up her hand as well, even though she was sure no one knew or cared who she was.

Then her own daughter betrayed her by turning, holding out her hand, and nearly shouting to be heard. “Mom! Come up here with me!”

For Grace, she would do anything, so she forced herself forward to stand beside her daughter and wave again, the thousands of voices nearly deafening her. Behind the balustrade, Grace found Eve’s free hand and gave it a quick squeeze, tossing her mother a brief look that said, Can you believe this?

Eve somehow smiled back.

As she did, she glanced sideways at Luis. His silver hair gleamed in the sunlight, and his smile blazed with joy. Standing with his chin and hand lifted, he seemed to grow taller, as though he drew strength from the respect and devotion of his people.

Maybe that deep connection explained why he was such a great king.

Eve kept smiling and waving and wishing she could sink through the stone floor of the balcony until she had no idea of how much time had passed.

At last, Bruno’s voice came from behind them, saying, “You may return to the Antiguo Salón del Trono.”

No one moved until Luis gave a final wave and turned. Then the group parted like the sea to let the king, Raul, and Grace pass through before trailing them back into the room. Eve knew the doors had closed by the sudden muffling of the cheers.

As Eve tried to regain her equilibrium, the members of the royal family chatted as though nothing special had happened, discussing their plans for the next day’s dinner, asking about a political matter, or even cracking a joke. As though being greeted by cheering crowds was an everyday occurrence.

It probably was. Not every day, but often enough to be treated as no big deal. Soon, Grace would come to feel this way, too, taking it in her stride as though it was just another meeting in her busy royal life.

The distance between Eve and Grace yawned wider and wider, like the rift between tectonic plates pulling apart.

For a moment, Eve could barely breathe as the impact of it slammed into her chest.

She gulped in air as she watched her daughter accept a hug from Lorenzo’s elegant wife, Hélène. Luis stepped back to give his brother room to offer Grace his congratulations as well. Eve caught the moment Luis staggered for a step and grasped the carved back of a medieval wooden chair with one hand to steady himself.

The man had nearly died of thallium poisoning three days before, and now he was pretending that he was fine.

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