Page 47 of Royal Caleva: Luis

“Por supuesto, Señor,” the aide said.

Luis lengthened his stride as he headed in the direction of his palace quarters. He was in a hurry to see his guests, and a king in an obvious hurry was a king no one would bother. Mostly.

He made it to his suite of rooms, leaving his aides outside the door and unknotting his tie before he stripped off his suit jacket. A sandwich awaited him in the dining room. He carried it into his private office, where he could eat as he scrolled through the late-arriving emails his staff felt he should see. When he found nothing that needed to be addressed immediately, he polished off the sandwich in three large bites and shoved his chair back as anticipation fizzed through his chest.

He sent a text to let Grace and Eve know he would be arriving soon. Grace’s enthusiastic response made him smile at his phone.

He took a few extra minutes to change into a pale blue polo shirt, tan trousers, and burgundy loafers. He had seen the slight distance of formality Eve had put between them after all the curtsying and bowing the afternoon before. He wanted to banish that, and casual clothing would help.

Then he was almost jogging along the secret passageway until he reached the panel. Knocking twice, he twisted the handle to swing it open.

Grace was waiting for him, her eyes bright with welcome. When she threw her arms around his neck, his heart twisted and lightened at the same time. “Hija mía, you are well?” he asked.

“I’m great,” she said, almost dancing as she stepped away from him. “Today was a blast.”

Delight coursed through his veins as he turned to find Eve standing by the drinks cabinet, wearing jeans that hugged her curves and a moss-green blouse, her beautiful hair clipped back in a ponytail. “Eve, I trust you enjoyed the day as much as Grace did.”

He was relieved when she smiled. “Probably more. For the first time in history, someone gave the opinions of a vet tech just as much weight as those of a vet.”

“That’s not true. The vets always listen to you,” Grace objected.

“The vet students do, but that’s because they haven’t had time to be brainwashed,” Eve retorted.

“What were you discussing?” he asked.

“Mom’s favorite topic—fear-free vet med,” Grace said.

“I have a vested interest. Vet techs are the ones who get bitten and scratched when an animal is terrified,” Eve pointed out.

“The fact is that reducing an animal’s stress level makes it easier to diagnose and treat whatever is wrong with them,” Grace said. “Everyone in vet med should have a vested interest in it. Your minister of Agriculture encouraged the discussion.”

Grace looped her arm around Luis’s and led him to the sofa in front of the fireplace. He couldn’t resist covering the hand she rested on his forearm with his free one.

“Would you like a drink?” Eve asked, pouring wine into two glasses. “Grace and I are having some of this delicious rioja.”

“Scotch, please, neat.” He could relax here, and that felt good. “I am glad you were shown the respect you deserve.”

Eve carried over a tumbler of Scotch that she handed to Luis, their fingers brushing in the transfer. He felt her touch flicker over his skin. “Gracias, señora.”

“De nada,” she said before returning to the bar to retrieve the glasses of wine.

Happiness sparked inside him at her response in Spanish. He hoped that meant Caleva was insinuating itself into her soul.

“Tell me what was so exciting about your day,” Luis invited as he took a sip of his drink, enjoying the smooth burn of the golden liquor as it slid down his throat.

“We got to see your famous lilies,” Grace said. “The way they grow in the valleys with all the geothermal steam rising around them is very atmospheric.”

“Seeing the location in person makes you appreciate why they don’t have the same dementia-curing qualities when grown anywhere else,” Eve said. “There must be many variables in the environment, between the soil, the steam venting, the quality of light, and the mountains around them.”

Luis nodded. “It has proven impossible to replicate, even though we have provided bulbs to any scientist interested in trying.” He offered a rueful smile. “Of course, Caleva benefits economically from being the sole source of the valuable sap.”

“But you don’t charge as much as you could for the dementia medication, given that you have a monopoly on it,” Grace said. “According to our guide, you keep the price reasonable in order to offer everyone access to it.” She gave a decisive nod. “That’s the right thing to do.”

Luis felt a burst of pleasure at his daughter’s endorsement.

“Of course, you make up for that with the price of those cosmetics made with the sap,” Eve said with a smile. “Only the top one-percenters can afford that stuff. Not that I’m complaining, but I wondered, does it really make wrinkles vanish?”

A chill ran through Luis at the mention of the cosmetics. Archambeau Cosmetics, the beauty company Odette Fontaine had headed, still held the exclusive contract for the sap for another few months. He had instructed his sister-in-law, Hélène, their liaison with the beauty industry, to find a new company to sell the sap to, effective the moment the contract expired. He could not bear to deal with Archambeau again.

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