“Go!” Serafia urged him from behind.
He could see Tomás standing at the bottom of the stairs waiting for him with a few reporters. The light was dim and the air cool. Their host had an expectant look on his face as he stood there waiting for Gabriel to follow.
Serafia nudged him in the back with her knee and he took a few steps down without really wanting to. It was only two more steps to the bottom, so he forced himself to go the rest of the way down. At the very least he needed to keep going so that the ladder would be clear for his escape. Right now Serafia, a vineyard assistant and a few other reporters were behind him.
Gabriel took a labored breath and looked around him. The room was bigger than he’d expected. The long corridor with its arched ceiling stretched on for quite a distance. Dim gold lights were spaced out down the hall, providing enough light to see the hundreds of barrels stored there.
The air was also fresher than he’d anticipated. He looked up, spying air vents that led to some type of ventilation system. At least the room didn’t smell of stale bread and mildew. But it didn’t need to. Gabriel’s brain easily conjured those smells. Dank, musty air filled his lungs, tainted with the stench of his own waste and leftover food that was rotting in the corner of his prison.
“This is my pride and joy,” Tomás said, taking a few steps down the rows of barrels. “This is a natural cave my family found on the property. It was perfect for storing our wine barrels, so we didn’t have to build a separate cellar. My great-grandfather added the electrical lighting and ventilation system so we can maintain the perfect temperature and humidity for the wine.”
He continued to talk, but Gabriel couldn’t hear him. All he could hear was his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. There were no windows, no natural light. He hated that. He couldn’t even stand his room at the palace with the dim light and cavelike conditions.
It was all too much. He could feel the walls start to close in on him. He could feel the rope chafing his ankles. Beads of perspiration that had nothing to do with heat formed on his brow and on his palms. He rubbed his hands absently against the fabric of his light gray suit, but it didn’t help. They were starting to tremble.
“We have nearly five hundred barrels—”
“I have to go!” Gabriel announced, interrupting Tomás and pushing through the crowd to reach the staircase. He ignored the commotion around him, taking the steps two at a time until he reached the ground floor.
There, he could finally take a breath. Bending over, he clasped his knees and closed his eyes. He breathed slowly, willing his heart rate to drop and his muscles to unwind. He stood upright and turned when he heard the stampede of footsteps coming up the steps behind him.
“Your Majesty, are you well?” Tomás approached him, placing a cautious hand on his shoulder.
Gabriel raised his arm to dismiss his concerns. “I’m fine. I’m sorry about that. I don’t do well in closed in spaces.”
“I wish I had known. I would never have taken you down there. Señorita Espina didn’t mention it.”
“She didn’t know.” Not really. He’d explained about his kidnapping the night before, but he hadn’t expressed how much things like small spaces or wrist watches bothered him as a result. He didn’t like talking about it. To him, it felt like a weakness. Kings weren’t supposed to have panic attacks. He didn’t mind being flawed, but he hated for anyone, and especially Serafia, to think of him as weak.
“Gabriel, are you okay?” Serafia asked, coming to his side with concern pinching her brow.
“I just needed some air. Sorry, everyone, the heat must’ve gotten to me,” he said more loudly to the crowd that followed him.
“I think what you need is a seat on the veranda with some wine and food to reinforce you,” Tomás suggested.
They followed the crowd into the villa, but before they entered, Serafia tugged at his jacket and held him back. “What was all that about?” she asked once they were alone.
As much as he hated to tell her, he needed to. He couldn’t have another incident like this. “I’ve developed a sort of claustrophobia since my kidnapping. I can’t take small or dark spaces, especially underground ones like the room where I was kept. I have panic attacks. It’s the same with watches. I can’t bear the feel of things against my wrists.”
Serafia sighed and brought her hand to his cheek. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Gabriel covered her hand with his own and pulled it down to his chest. When he looked into her dark brown eyes, he felt overcome with the urge to tell her whatever she wanted. He wanted to be honest with someone for the first time since he came home from Venezuela. Serafia was the one person he could trust with his secrets.