All I saw was water—dark-green angry water—roaring toward me. I yelped as a wave broke against my chest, sending me backward, a hapless doll against the rocks. I called Don Julián’s name.
But the only answer was a bitter taste in my mouth from all the water I had swallowed along with my pride. The laughing cry of seagulls high above my head mocked my despair. As the water pulled back, I plunged ahead and to my right toward the arch.
The next wave hit me again in the chest, pushing me back, but the following one I waded through before it broke, and the one after.
I slowly made my way against the incoming tide until, at last, I reached the ragged rocks of the arch. I clung to them with both hands and feet to avoid being dragged by the undercurrent from the cave. And then, during a brief pause in swirling water, I leaped forward and rode the wave that was now roaring into the cave.
The force of the ocean was so overpowering I lost my balance, and the wave, wrapping itself like a blanket around my body, pushed me under, crushing my chest with its icy fist. I tried to break to the surface for air. But tossed about by the water, I had lost all sense of direction. Then just when I thought my lungs would burst, I felt the subtle change, the feeling that the water was getting thinner and the air warmer. Air! Air at last, pouring into my lungs. But the water that had held me before was gone, and I fell. I heard my voice screaming and a loud thump as something hard rose to receive me. Then nothing—a black empty nothing filled with pain.
Coughing and spitting, I pushed my body up. It hurt to move. I was still struggling to stand when two leather boots suddenly materialized in front of me. “Do you need help, my lady?”
I jumped to my feet, annoyed at being found in such an unbecoming position. Unexpectedly my left foot gave way, and I fell again.
Don Julián knelt by my side. As his head leveled with mine, our eyes met. “Princess Andrea! Are you all right?”
I yanked my dripping hair away from my eyes and nodded.
Again I tried to stand, but when I leaned on my left foot, a wave of pain shot up my leg. Bright points of light flashing before my eyes, I stumbled.
Don Julián’s hands were already on my waist holding me. “What’s wrong?” The concern in his voice seemed real.
“Nothing,” I said, pulling myself away. But ignoring my protests, Don Julián lifted me in his arms and carried me to the back of the cave. As he propped me against the rocks, I understood how much he must have hated depending on us when he was wounded back in the castle. Tío Ramiro had been right. Under the circumstances, Don Julián’s self-control had been remarkable.
“It’s your ankle, isn’t it?” Don Julián was asking.
“I think so, Sir.”
Don Julián knelt by my side, “May I have a look?”
I pulled back. “No.”
With the last trace of dignity I had left, I gathered my skirts and set them between us. Soaking wet as they were, they just hung there, pasted to my legs with all the grace of a dirty mop.
Don Julián smiled. “I’m afraid you have no choice, Princess. You need help, and I am the only one around. Unless, that is, you wish to spend the night here. But I would not recommend it, my lady. In your damp clothes, you would probably get sick.” Again he smiled.
“Would you please stop laughing at me?”
Don Julián’s gaze hardened. “Laughing at you?” he repeated, and there was a note of surprise in his voice. “I’m not laughing at you, Princess. Not at all. It’s just that . . . I suppose you have a reason to be upset with me. I suppose I should apologize for what I said before in the garden, but the truth is that if my words were what brought you here, I would not change a single one.”
“Are you saying that you lied to me?”
“No, Princess. That is not what I mean. I did not lie. Of course what I said was not true, or else you would not have come. But I believed it then. You seemed so different then, so distant, that I really thought you had changed and I . . . I could not stand the idea. I lost my temper. But do not worry, Princess, it will not happen again.”
“But when you said that . . . Did you mean it when you said that . . .”
Don Julián smiled. “When I said that I love you? Yes, Princess. I am afraid that is true. I do love you.”
Falling to one knee, he grabbed my hands and searched my face eagerly, the way he had before in the garden. “Don’t you know, Princess, I have been in love with you from the moment I first saw you? From the moment you walked into my tent, broken and dirty, demanding to be treated as my equal?
“Don’t you know I would have given you both moons that day, had you asked for them? I would have happily parted with my life, my kingdom, and my crown, just to see you smile. But all you asked of me was that I would marry your sister. And that, Princess, I could not do. I could not give you up—not yet—when I was still in shock at having found you.”
I was shaking so hard by then, I could not answer. Don Julián stared, still for a moment, his eyes ablaze. Then again his eyes grew cold, as embers do in an untended hearth. Letting go of my hands, he pulled back.
“It’s all right, Princess,” he said, his voice formal now and distant, the voice of the king he once had been. “I understand. I understand I have no claim on you. And I promise I will never mention my feelings again.”
“No, Sir, I . . .” I bent forward as he was getting up and raised my arms to stop him. Of their own will, my hands reached for his face. When I touched him, I felt his body tense as if he had expected a blow. Yet he did not move. For an indefinite time, I stood still, staring into his dark angry eyes. Then bending slightly, I kissed him.
Don Julián held me back. “Princess?” His eyes, wide open in surprise, were pleading.
“I don’t want you to forget me, Sir,” I whispered. “I love you.”
His hands were already on my waist pulling me to him when, over the pounding of my heart, I heard the steps—hurried steps over the sand outside the cave. Don Julián set me back against the wall. Drawing his knife, he swept around and faced the entrance where the dark shape of a man was now standing.
“Welcome to my world,” a familiar voice said.
Don Julián sheathed his knife and bowed. “Thank you, Sir.”
Tío Ramiro did not return his bow, but stepped inside, his right arm stretched in front of him. Don Julián walked up to him and firmly shook the hand Tío was offering, the way people do in California.
As the tension left my chest, the pain returned. I bit my tongue to prevent a moan, and closing my eyes, I willed the pain to go away. When I opened them again,Tío was staring at me, his face set in a frown.
“Do your parents know you are here, young lady?”
“Of course they do,” I said. That is none of your business, my tone translated.
A flash of pique crossed Tio’s face. Don Julián spoke. “Princess Andrea has twisted her ankle. She needs help.”
Tío knelt by my side and checked my foot and ankle. “It is not broken,” he said, getting up. And as if that meant it did not hurt either, he took my arm. “Come on, Andrea. You’re soaking wet. You must change before you catch a cold. Let’s go home.”
I shivered, noticing the cold for the first time. Leaning against Tío, I limped forward.
“I think it would be better if I carry her.”
As Don Julián spoke, Tío Ramiro dropped his arm and, leaving me standing precariously on one foot, turned. “Are you sure, Sir?”
“Absolutely.”
Don Julián was already by my side, his arms wrapped around my body. As his face touched mine, I shivered again.
“I have arranged for you to meet the professors in the engineering department, as we agreed,” Tío said to Don Julián, leading the way toward the entrance.
Agreed? I thought, confused. When?
“Will they let me go through the program at my own pace?” Don Julián asked.
Between the pain in my ankle and the exhilarating feeling of being so close to Don Julián, my mind was not working properly. It had taken me all that time to realize they were speaking in English.