Page 2 of Raul
Raul braced himself on his elbows and saw that the stage curtains had been drawn between him and the audience. An agitated hiss of voices filtered through the green velvet barrier, and he winced again. To faint while serving in his role as honorary head of the Calevan militia was appalling. “I don’t need to be examined. I’ll be fine in a moment.”
The doctor raised his eyebrows. “You wouldn’t want to keel over again, would you?”
“No, I would not,” Raul said, horror flooding through him at the prospect. As the doctor opened his medical bag, Raul forced himself to meet the general’s eyes. “Did I finish all the honorees?”
Perez nodded, his expression still worried. “TenienteBarca was the last one. She caught you before you hit the floor.”
“I will make certain to thank her,” Raul said, wishing he didn’t have to acknowledge his weakness. But at least his shameful collapse hadn’t deprived any honorees of receiving their medals. The relief only made him feel woozier.
The doctor began his examination, which Raul submitted to with gritted teeth behind his courteous cooperation.
“In my medical opinion, you might need nothing more than to rest and hydrate.” The medical officer offered his hand to Raul, pulling him up to a sitting position. “However, I am sure the royal physicians will want to run some tests to confirm that.”
Raul grimaced inwardly because the doctor was right about the royal medical staff. “Perhaps you could share your diagnosis with them in a very persuasive way.”
The doctor gave a snort of laughter. “They’re not going to take my word for that,Señor, no matter how persuasive I try to be.” He pulled a plastic bottle out of his bag and handed it to Raul. “Drink this. It will get you started on the hydration part of your treatment.”
Raul twisted off the top and took a gulp, nearly gagging at the sugary taste, but he forced himself to swallow several more mouthfuls. Anything to get back on his feet.
“You should also follow my advice about rest and more hydration, or this could happen again.” The doctor pinned him with a stern gaze.
“I promise to.” Raul managed to summon what he hoped was a convincing smile. He took another gulp of the drink, praying it would chase away the dizziness. He raised his free hand. “Dario, some help,por favor.”
The bodyguard grasped Raul’s forearm and lifted him to his feet, where Raul tried to will himself to remain upright despite his knees quivering like jelly. Dario must have felt him sway, because the bodyguard kept a discreet but firm grip on Raul’s arm.
“The ambulance is here,” someone said behind them.
“No! No ambulance,” Raul snapped. “I will thankTenienteBarca, I will wave to the crowd, and I will walk to my car.”
And when he got back to the palace, he would catch hell from his father, the king, for not taking better care of himself.
Raul took one careful step after another down the corridor leading to his apartment in the palace, his head still filled with the unpleasant floating feeling. He had stripped off his uniform jacket in the SUV, only to feel the sweat-soaked black T-shirt underneath turn clammy in the car’s air conditioning. Now Dario carried the jacket as the bodyguard walked by his side.
“You should go see the royal physician,” Dario said.
“I just want to lie down and sleep,” Raul muttered. “The doctor said that’s all I need.”
“Sonowyou decide to rest,” Dario muttered back. “I’ve been telling you for days that you were going to crash if you didn’t ease off on your work schedule.”
Raul called him an asshole but without much heat. Raul’s executive assistant, Yvette, had been saying the same thing. But Raul had to keep working, had to be a prince worthy of the people who made sacrifices for him. Now he had let them down, and he felt like shit.
“Believe me, I didn’t want to be right,” Dario said.
“Remind me to listen to you the next time,” Raul said.
Dario snorted.
They rounded the last turn, and Raul stopped. One of his father’s security team stood outside Raul’s door. That meant the king was waiting for him inside.
“Joder!”Raul swore softly. “I can’t do this right now.”
He didn’t have the strength to fake being fine. His father would see through him in a flash.
As they approached Raul’s door, the king’s bodyguard swung it open.
“Gracias,”Raul murmured, bracing himself for a lecture as he stepped through the door.
His father, dressed in his navy business suit, was already coming toward him. Guilt slammed into Raul when he saw the worried shadows in his father’s pale blue eyes and the strain tightening his jaw beneath the salt-and-pepper beard.
