Looking out the window, she was impressed by how many people were lining the streets. Thousands of people from all over, young and old alike, had come to the capital to see Gabriel. Some held signs of welcome; others had white carnations, the official flower of Alma, to throw into the street in front of Gabriel’s car. Their faces lit up with excitement and anticipation as they saw Serafia’s official palace vehicle drive down the road, indicating that the new king would soon follow.
They needed a reason to smile. The Tantaberras had ruled over these people with an iron fist for too long. They deserved freedom and hope, and she sincerely believed that Gabriel could be the one to bring it to them. He wasn’t the most traditional choice for a king, but he was a good man. He was caring and thoughtful. There might be a rocky start, but she could tell these people were desperate for the excitement of a new king, a new queen and the kind of royal baby countdown that the British had recently enjoyed.
Serafia spied a different sign as they neared the end of the route. A little girl was holding up a board with Gabriel’s picture and her own. Across the top and bottom in blue glitter it read “We need a fairy tale romance! King Gabriel & Queen Serafia forever!”
A few feet down, another declared “We have our king, please choose Serafia as our queen!” This one was held by an older woman. A third declared “Unite the Montoros & the Espinas at last!”
Serafia sat back in her seat in surprise. Although she preferred to avoid the press in general, the tone of the earlier article about her and Gabriel had been positive. The crowd here today seemed to corroborate that. They had their king and now they wanted their fairy tale. But her? Serafia didn’t need to be anyone’s queen. She was done with the spotlight.
The only hitch was her growing feelings for Gabriel. She’d never planned them. If she was honest, she hadn’t wanted to have feelings for him at all. And yet, over the last two weeks, he had charmed his way into her heart. She wasn’t in love, but she was closer than she’d been in a very long time. Her time with Gabriel was coming to an end. Soon he would be on his own, transitioning into his role as king. Serafia planned to return to Barcelona when it was over.
But as the time ticked away, she felt herself dreading that day. What was her alternative? To stay? To let her relationship with Gabriel grow into something real? That would give the people of Alma what they wanted, but it came at too high a price. Serafia didn’t want to be queen. She was done with the criticism and the magnifying glass examining her every decision and action.
The car stopped at a park and she got out, waiting with a small crew of guards and Hector Vega, who was speaking to some journalists. She found a spot in the shade where she could lean against one of the vehicles and wait for the royal motorcade. It wasn’t in sight yet, so she glanced down to pull out her tablet to make some notes.
“Serafia?”
She looked up at the sound of a woman’s voice and noticed Felicia Gomez and her daughter crossing the street to speak with her. The older woman had traded her ball gown for a more casual blouse and slacks, but she was wearing almost as many diamonds. She was smiling as much as her Botox would allow, but there wasn’t much sincerity in the look. Dita was wearing a sundress and a fresh-faced look guaranteed to turn Gabriel’s head.
Serafia swallowed her negative observations and tried to smile with more warmth than she had. “Señora Gomez, Dita. Good morning. How are you?”
“I’m well,” Felicia replied, coming to stand beside her. “We came down in the hopes we’d get a chance to speak with the prince after the parade. We didn’t get a lot of time at the Rowling party.”
Felicia’s tone was pointed, as though Serafia were the one responsible for that fact. In a way she was, she supposed. Serafia didn’t want the crown, but she really didn’t want the spoiled Dita to have it, either.
Instead of responding, Serafia just smiled and turned to look down the street. She could see the motorcycle cops leading the motorcade. “Here’s your opportunity,” she said.
Within a few minutes, all the vehicles had pulled into the park. Gabriel leaped out of the back of the convertible with athletic grace. He shook the hands of his driver and the guards who were running along with him, and then made his way over to Serafia. He was smiling as he looked at her, barely paying any attention to the Gomez women standing beside her.
“I’m starving,” he said. “All that waving and smiling has worked up a hellacious appetite. I caught a whiff of something delicious on the parade route. I think it was coming from this little tapas place. I tried to remember the landmarks and I’m determined to track it down for lunch.”