Serafia swam to the edge of the pool and crossed her arms along the stone, lifting her torso up out of the water. She dropped her head onto her forearms and fought the tears that had taunted her the last few days. As hard as she’d resisted falling for the rebellious prince, it had happened, anyway. Even with the threat of returning to the spotlight, the potential for becoming queen and all the responsibilities that held, she couldn’t help herself.
And then he turned on her. How could he think she would do something like that on purpose? The minute she realized where they were headed, the panic had been nearly overwhelming. And then when he’d looked at her with the betrayal reflecting in his eyes, she felt her heart break. He was so used to people using and abusing his trust that he refused to see that wasn’t what she was doing.
Perhaps she should have stayed in Alma and fought to clear her name. Running away made her look guilty, but she just couldn’t stay there. Her family might have been from Alma decades ago, but she was born and raised in Spain and that was where she needed to be.
She just needed to get her life back on track. The dramas of Alma would fade, Gabriel would choose his queen and she would go on with her life, such as it was.
At least that was what she told herself.
The French doors to the courtyard opened behind her, and Serafia’s housekeeper stepped out with a tray. “I have your lunch ready, señorita.”
Serafia swam back to the shallow end of the pool to greet her. She wasn’t remotely interested in food with the way she felt, but it would hurt her housekeeper’s feelings if she didn’t pretend otherwise. “Thank you, Esperanza. Please leave it on the patio table.”
Esperanza did as she asked, hesitating a moment by the edge of the pool with a towel in her hands. She seemed worried, her wrinkled face pinched into an expression of concern. “Are you going to eat it?”
Serafia frowned and climbed up the steps. “What do you mean?”
“You barely touched your breakfast, just picking at the fruit. I found most of last night’s dinner plate scraped into the trash so I wouldn’t see it. I have all your favorite snacks and drinks in the house since your return and I haven’t had to restock a single thing.”
Serafia snatched the towel from the housekeeper’s hands, the past anxiety of being caught in the act rushing back to her. “That’s none of your business. I pay you to cook my meals, not monitor them like my mother.”
The hurt expression on the older woman’s face made her feel instantly guilty for snapping at her. Esperanza was the sweetest woman she knew and she didn’t deserve that kind of treatment. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Forgive me.” Serafia slipped down into the patio chair and buried her face in her towel.
“It’s nothing. When I don’t eat, I get grumpy, too,” Esperanza offered with a small smile. She was a plump older woman with a perpetually pleasant disposition. Probably because she got to eat and wasn’t eternally stressing out about how she looked. “But I worry about you, señorita, and so do your parents.”
Serafia’s head snapped up. “They’ve called?”
“Sí, but you were out walking on the beach. They asked me not to tell you. They seemed very interested in your eating habits, which is why I noticed the change. They said if you started visibly losing weight, I should call them straightaway.”
Great. Her parents were having her own employee spy on her. They must really be concerned. Serafia sighed and sat back in her chair. They probably were right to be. In the last few days since returning from Alma, she’d already lost five pounds that she shouldn’t have. She was at the low end of the range her doctors had provided her. If she got back into the red zone, she risked another round of inpatient treatment, and she didn’t want to do that.
Damn it.
“Thank you for caring about me, Esperanza.” Serafia eyed the tray of food she brought her. There was a large green salad with diced chicken, a platter with a hard-boiled egg, slices of cheese and bread and a carafe of vinaigrette. Ever hopeful, Esperanza had even included two of her famous cinnamon-sugar cookies. All in all, it was a healthy, balanced lunch with plenty of vegetables, proteins and whole grains. The kind Serafia asked her to make most days.
And yet she had a hard time stopping her brain from mentally obsessing over how many calories were sitting there. If she only ate the greens and the chicken with no dressing, it wouldn’t be too bad. Maybe one piece of cheese, but definitely no bread. They were the same compulsive thoughts that she’d once allowed to take over her life. She’d battled this demon for a long time. A part of her had hoped that she’d beaten it for good, but one emotional blow had sent her spiraling back into her old bad habits.