“I . . . I don’t know.”
Mother looked up and held my eyes with her bright blue ones until I felt myself blushing. “I see,” she said. “And did Don Julián agree?”
“No, he didn’t. But he didn’t refuse, either. I mean, they attacked before we could ask him. But he will. I am sure that he will. Please, Mother, don’t tell Father that Don Julián is here. Not yet. Not until I talk with him.”
Mother did not answer. Carefully she wrapped a linen bandage around the wound. Then she covered Don Julián with the blanket, and after rearranging the pillows, she walked to the table. Pouring some water into another basin, she started to wash her hands.
“Princess Andrea,” she told me as I joined her, “the most important thing now is that the wound doesn’t open. That is why he must stay still. He will need constant supervision. You will take care of him during the day. Princess Margarida, your uncle, and I will take turns at night.”
Walking back to the bed, she knelt by the trunk and opened it. When she turned back to me, she was holding two leather bags in her hands. “You have been to my world, Princess,” she said, setting them on the table, “so you understand there is a high risk of infection in a wound. Luckily I have always kept some antibiotics even though it meant disobeying your father’s direct order.” Opening one of the purses, she showed me a white pill. “He must take one every six hours,” she explained. Then she opened the other purse. The pills this time were red. “These are for the pain. Give them to him four or five times a day, or whenever you see he needs them. Of course don’t ask, he will never admit to pain. Men!”
She said “Men” with such contempt that I smiled. Mother returned the smile, and taking my hands into hers, she looked into my eyes. “Why did you run away, Princess Andrea?”
“Because I wanted to stop the war.”
“And before?”
“Because I don’t fit in here, Mother. I belong in your world. Coming back with John was an accident. And when Rosa took him from me, I—”
Mother gasped. “Do you care for John, Princess?”
“Yes! No! I mean I did, but now . . .” Confused, I stopped. John, I thought, but his face was only a blur. John, my mind repeated, and there was no pain. Suddenly I felt free, totally free, the way a caterpillar must feel when it emerges from its cocoon and realizes it has wings. Elated in my newfound freedom, I promised myself I would never love again.
“I owe you an apology, Princess,” Mother was saying. “I didn’t realize you cared for him.” In a lower voice as if talking to herself, she continued, “At the time, when John asked Don Andrés’s permission to court Princess Rosa, it did seem the perfect solution to save John. And your father was so certain Don Julián only wanted to marry Rosa to get hold of our kingdom that I believed it, too. Only later, after Don Julián had declared war on us, did I question the reasons behind your father’s decision. You see, Princess, when the war broke out, Don Andrés was thrilled, as if he had been expecting it all along, as if he had accepted John’s proposal only to have an excuse to fight Don Julián.”
“Excuses. That is what Don Alfonso thinks, too. He thinks men are always looking for excuses to fight.”
“Then I suppose I will have something to discuss with Don Alfonso when he comes to marry Princess Margarida.”
“Will you help me then, Mother? Will you let Don Julián go?”
Mother nodded. “But only if he agrees to talk with your father.”
At her words, my feet started dancing. My manners forgotten, I threw my arms around her shoulders and hugged her wildly. “He will, Mother. I know he will.”
Mother stroked my hair. “I hope you are right, Princess,” she whispered, her body warm against mine. “I hope you are right.”
But as she talked, I remembered the disdain in Don Julián’s voice as he dismissed my offer of peace, the look of hate in his eyes as he condemned us to death, and a shiver of fear shot down my spine, shaking my confidence. Would Don Julián really give up revenge for a world he had never seen, or was I fooling myself again with false hopes?
Three days later, I was still wondering. But after so many hours of watching Don Julián drifting in and out of consciousness and talking in his delirium with people who were not there, I had almost lost hope that he would ever recover. Then on the morning of that third day, he asked, “May I have a word with you, Princess?” Looking up, I saw him staring at me with his dark feverish eyes, and my heart started racing and my mind went blank.
The next thing I remembered, I was on my feet, my legs trembling under the skirts of my gown, my head bent into a low curtsy, and my voice, strange and foreign, saying, “As you wish,Your Majesty.”
Turning toward the window, I rested the bed linen I had been cutting into bandages on the window seat. Bright red over white, a drop of blood was rolling over the folded cloth. Only then I felt the pain, a sharp pain in my finger where the scissors had dug into my flesh. Without thinking, I took it to my lips to stop the bleeding and rushed toward the bed. The salty taste of blood was still in my mouth when I reached the king’s side.
“Doña Jimena has explained to me my present situation,” Don Julián said. “I understand that I owe my life to you. I am most grateful, Princess.”
“You are welcome, Sire. But it is I who must thank you, as you saved mine first.”
Don Julián frowned.
“On the bridge, Sire. You protected me from the arrows.”
“Oh that,” he said, his eyes staring blankly into the distance. “That was indeed an irresponsible act, abandoning my men in battle.”
Although I had not expected that saving my life would be his first priority, I found his abruptness annoying. “Whether you meant it or not, Sire, you saved my life,” I told him sharply, and my anger must have shown in my voice because Don Julián looked up at me, and his puzzled expression quickly changed to embarrassment.
“I apologize, Princess. I didn’t mean it that way. As you probably know by now, I am not good with words. Don’t get me wrong. I am glad you are alive, but I was not expecting to get an arrow in me. I just forgot I was not wearing my mail. So please do not feel you owe me anything.”
He smiled at me then, and although I wasn’t sure whether he meant what he had said or was just humoring me, I smiled back.
“Are we at peace now, Princess?”
“Yes, Sire.”
Thinking the conversation was over, I was going to return to my seat, when I remembered my mother’s instructions. I walked to the table then, and with my back to the king to conceal the pills, I smashed one of each in the bottom of a metal cup; after adding some water, I offered them to him. Don Julián thanked me and lifted the cup to his lips. His hand was shaking so badly that water splashed all over the covers.
“Please, Sire, let me help.”
Without arguing, Don Julián surrendered the cup to me and, his eyes searching mine without shame, he drank.
I was helping him to lie back when the sleeve of my dress slid to my elbow and momentarily uncovered my wrist. There, perfectly visible, my watch was reflecting the sun’s rays. With a sharp movement of my arm, I pulled the sleeve down. But it was too late. The look of amazement in Don Julián’s eyes left me no doubt. He had seen it. He extended his right hand. “May I have a look?”
There was such eagerness in his voice that, before I could think of any excuse, I had taken off my watch and was handing it to him. “It is a time reader,” I told him, as if that would explain everything.
Don Julián examined the watch for a long time. “It is from the other world,” he said at last, and it was not a question. A light of wonder I had never seen burned in his eyes, making him look extremely young and vulnerable.