Page 51 of Royal Caleva: Luis

Annamaria beamed. “Usted habla español! You speak Spanish,” she translated with a glance at Eve.

“Un poco,” Grace said. “It’s good to practice.”

“Si, si! Muy bien!” Annamaria agreed. “First, I will show you the view and then your rooms.”

She led them through a double-height entrance with a large hanging red-and-black mobile that Eve guessed was by the American sculptor Alexander Calder. Beyond it lay a huge living space with multiple seating areas. That paled when compared with the vista outside the wall of glass. A stone terrace with an infinity pool extended from the sliding doors. The house was on the tip of a high peninsula, so the sea surrounded it on three sides. Right in the center of the view, a volcanic caldera erupted from the waves, its sloping sides covered with soft green vegetation. A break in the cone’s wall showed a circular pool of brilliantly blue water cradled within. Seabirds wheeled in the skies around it, and a few boats bobbed near the pool’s entrance.

“La Sorpresa de Los Piratas. The Pirates’ Surprise,” Annamaria said with a wave toward the island. “El rey will tell you the story of its name. It’s one of his favorites.” She said it with an affectionate familiarity that shifted Eve’s view of Luis. In the palace, everyone had treated him as the King with a capital K. Annamaria seemed to look on him with less deference and more fondness.

“It looks like you can go to the volcano by boat,” Grace said.

“Maybe we can work that into our trip,” Eve said, knowing that Luis would make it happen if Grace expressed an interest.

“It is a national park,” Annamaria said. “Only two hundred people are allowed there per day.”

That wouldn’t stop Luis.

The mayordoma shepherded them away from the spellbinding vista and through a bewildering array of rooms before entering a wide hallway. Stopping in front of a door, she beckoned Eve forward. “Put your thumb against this black pad, and it will know to open the door for you.” She gave a shrug. “Señor Silva is security conscious even here.”

Eve pressed her thumb against the black square and heard the click of the door unlocking.

“Would you like me to show you around your suite?” Annamaria asked.

“I can explore it on my own, but thank you,” Eve said.

“If you need privacy from the outdoors, just say, ‘Shades on,’ and the glass will darken,” Annamaria said. “You can also speak to the shower by saying, ‘Shower on,’ ‘hotter,’ ‘colder,’ and so on.”

“The shower speaks English?” Eve joked.

“And ten other languages,” Annamaria said with a straight face. She waved down the hall. “Señorita Howard’s room is the second door down from yours. I will return in an hour to escort you back to the sala. Feel free to explore the house on your own, too, if you wish.”

“Please call us Eve and Grace,” Eve said. “We’re Americans, so we prefer to be less formal.”

“Bien, Señora Eve.” Annamaria nodded.

Grace gave a muffled choke of laughter, but Eve just smiled. “Gracias.”

Pushing the door open, she found herself in a sitting room that included a desk and a gas fireplace along with a comfortable modern sofa and chairs in shades of taupe and blue. The outer wall offered the same view as the sala, except that the volcano was farther to the right.

Strolling through the open door to the bedroom, she found a king-size bed with multiple layers of exquisitely soft linens in soft creams and blues, another fireplace, and two armchairs set in front of the window wall. Exploring further, she discovered a palatial bathroom done entirely in gray-veined marble and a walk-in closet, where her clothing was already hung or folded into drawers.

She went back to the bedroom and stood, drinking in the incredible scene of sea, sky, and volcano. Then she remembered that Luis was coming…and Raul, of course. But the thrill of anticipation that zinged through her wasn’t for the prince.

The scent of vaho hibiscus teased her nostrils, and she glanced around to see a vase of the lavender blossoms on the dresser. Beside it sat a square package wrapped in gold paper with teal and red ribbons tied around it. A cream-colored envelope with her name handwritten on it was propped behind the box.

Figuring that it was the kind of welcome note high-end hotels often offered their guests, she picked it up and pulled out the folded notepaper. It was embossed with a gold crown under which was engraved Luis IV, King of Caleva. Her pulse jumped. She opened it to find bold, flowing handwriting.

Dear Eve,

You do not need the aid of this gift, but you asked if it worked. You may draw your own conclusions by trying it for yourself.

Warmest regards,

Luis

Like a silly teenager, she traced the slashing letters of his name, thinking of all the important documents he signed in the same way. This note was going in her box of special mementos, right alongside Grace’s baby bracelet and first report card.

Placing the note carefully on the dresser, she tugged on the ribbons of the box before it dawned on her that this must be the anti-aging cream. She peeled back the paper to see a logo of a stylized lily and the words Vin de Lys—Wine of the Lilies—the name the French cosmetics firm had given its exclusive cream made from the sap of the Calevan lilies. Opening the box, she pulled out a cut crystal jar with a rose-gold lid, studded with wine-red crystals.

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