The Runaway Princess

Chapter 23

“Rivers know this: there is no hurry. We shall get there some day.” A.A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh

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Chapter Twenty – Three

The doctor had been fetched immediately and Juan had been taken directly to his bedchamber. After examining the King, the Doctor Esteban Ramirez had diagnosed Juan with coronary heart disease, stating that his blood was having difficulty travelling through his coronary arteries. This lack of blood flow had brought on an episode that Doctor Ramirez had sadly declared to be fatal.

The priest had performed the last rites while Juan laid in bed, barley conscious and waiting for death.

Carlos and Marisol had left the family alone. Lupe sat at her husband’s bedside, while Elena and her three brothers stood behind her, watching their father breathe.

He looked so harmless and peaceful, nothing like the tyrant Elena had known.

Elena knew that she should have felt devastated for both herself and Spain. She was about to lose her father and Spain was about to lose its ruler. But Elena did not feel sad. She knew that upon her father’s death, Joaquín would be King and she would be free, free to marry David, free to live wherever she pleased. She would never be at risk for physical harm again.

The only emotion, other than relief, that Elena felt was guilt. It was she that was responsible for bringing on her father’s episode. It was her actions that had caused him to collapse. She was responsible for a man’s death.

“Say your goodbyes to your father now, children,” said Lupe quietly as she rose from the chair beside Juan’s bed. When she turned to face Elena, Joaquín, Javier and Jorge, they all could see the nasty bruise forming on her face from where Juan had slapped her. Would Lupe mourn Juan? Publically, she would have to, but privately? Elena did not have the relationship with her mother where they could discuss such things. Come to think of it, Elena did not have any sort of relationship with her mother. She had always been the beautiful woman whom she merely called ‘Madre’. Her niñeras had been her mothers.

Javier and Jorge muttered sincere farewells to the dying King. Elena did not know what to say. Could she apologise for causing his death? The priest had promised Juan a place in heaven. Could a priest do the same for her?

“Joaquín, say your goodbyes,” urged Lupe.

“No,” murmured Joaquín.

Lupe’s blue eyes widened. “Joaquín,” she said sternly, “your father is dying. Say goodbye to him.”

“Good riddance,” muttered Joaquín spitefully. “Padre was a powerful and influential ruler, an asset to Spain, but he was no father, and I shall not mourn him, nor say goodbye to him.”

Elena could understand her brother’s disdain for Juan. He had been an awful father to them and he had committed tremendous evils. But how could Elena not say goodbye? She had been the one to put him in this position.

“Madre, I am sorry for this,” said Elena sincerely. “Had I know Padre was fragile I would have done as I was told. I would not have done this to him, I promise.”

Joaquín put an arm around Elena and hugged her to his side. “This was not your fault, Elena.”

Elena furrowed her eyebrows. “But it is,” she insisted. “I angered him! He collapsed only after saying that he wished to never see me again.” And he never would.