He hadn’t heard her get up, but she had changed her clothes, refreshed her makeup and styled her thick, dark hair into a bun. For the next week, she was publically filling the role of his social secretary while privately coaching him through all the events. She was dressed for the part in a ladies’ taupe suit. The blazer was well tailored and didn’t look boxy, and the sheath dress beneath it was fitted and came down just to her knee, showcasing her long and shapely calves.
It was elegant, but Gabriel found himself longing for the clingy red silk gown from their first night together. In this outfit, she completely faded into the background. He supposed that was the idea, but he didn’t like it. Serafia might not care for the spotlight, but she was born to be in it.
He went to the bathroom, getting ready and changing into the navy suit she’d hung out for him. She’d paired it with a lighter blue shirt and a plain blue tie. It was a sophisticated look, she’d argued, but it seemed boring to him. It made him want to wear crazy socks, but he wouldn’t. She’d already laid out a pair of navy socks for him.
By the time he came back out, his father had emerged from the bedroom and the pilot was announcing their descent into Del Sol, the capital of Alma.
“The press will be waiting for you when we arrive. They’ve arranged for a carpet to be laid out and your royal guards will be there for crowd control. They’ve already secured the area and screened all the attendees. Your press secretary, Señor Vega, briefed everyone on appropriate questions, so things should go smoothly. I will exit the plane first and make sure everything is okay,” Serafia explained. “Then Señor Montoro, and then you’re last. Wait until the carpet is clear. Take your time so everyone can get their photos.”
Gabriel nodded, taking in her constant stream of instructions as he had done all week. She was a font of information.
“Don’t forget to smile. Wave. It should just be the press, so no need to greet anyone in the crowd. No speeches, no interviews. Just smile and wave.”
The wheels of the jet touched down and suddenly everything became very real. Gabriel looked out the window. Beyond the airport, he could see the great rock hills that rose on the horizon, their gray stone peppered with evergreens. Closer to Del Sol was a smaller hill topped with some kind of ancient fortress. Climbing up the incline were whitewashed buildings clustered together with clay tile roofs.
Ahead, clear blue skies with palm trees led the way toward the beach. His last trip here with his brother had been all business, so he had no idea what kinds of beaches they had in Alma, but he prayed they were at least halfway as nice as the ones in Miami. He was already feeling pangs of homesickness.
The plane stopped and the engines turned off. The small crew unlocked and extended the staircase. Serafia gathered up her bag and her tablet. “Smile and wave,” she said one last time before disappearing down the stairs.
His father followed her a moment later and then it was Gabriel’s turn. His heart started pounding in his rib cage. His lungs could barely take in enough air, his chest was so tight. Once he stepped out of this plane, he was a coronation away from being Su Majestad el Rey Don Gabriel I. It was a terrifying prospect, but he pushed himself up out of his seat anyway.
Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the doorway. He was momentarily blinded by the sun. He paused for a moment to adjust, a smile on his face and his arm raised in greeting. He slowly made his way down the stairs, careful not to fall and make the worst possible impression. By the time he reached the bottom, he could look out into the crowd of photographers. There were about fifty of them gathered with cameras and video crews.
To the left and right of the stairs were two large gentlemen in military suits similar to the one Serafia had recently had tailored for him. In addition to their shiny brass buttons and collections of metals, they wore earpieces with cords that disappeared under their collars. He hadn’t really given the idea of his personal security much thought until now.
The men bowed, and after he nodded to them both, they walked two paces behind Gabriel as he made his way down the carpet. At the end of the path, he could see his father and Serafia waiting for him with a man he presumed was his press secretary. Serafia had an exaggerated smile like a stage mom, reminding him to smile and wave.
He was almost to the end when a man with a video crew charged to the edge of the barricade and shouted to him. “Gabriel! How do you feel about your brother’s abdication? Did you know he had a child on the way?”
The bold question startled him.
“Rafe made his choice. I don’t blame him for his decision.” Serafia had told him he wasn’t to answer questions, but he was thrown off guard with a film crew pointing the camera right in his face.