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Duchess no longer looked at her with frightened eyes. She had at one time been domesticated, and she was beginning to remember her life before hunger and fear had changed her. Portia kneeled and watched the cat rise, stretch her neck and shake out her limbs, and then walk over to the water. She lapped furiously as five balls of fluff scrambled to be near her, one kitten losing his balance and plopping half his body into the bowl. He jumped back, as if hit by a jolt, and gave himself a few shakes. Tiny drops of water sprinkled Portia’s clothes.
She giggled and pressed her hand to the top of the little one’s head. Silky fur tickled her palm. “You are a feisty one.”
Juan Carlos strode into the room. “Are you ready to go, sweetheart?”
She stood. “Yes. I can’t wait to see what else we uncover.”
According to Eduardo, two bulldozers and a full crew were working furiously this morning. In the middle of the night, he’d called upon and assembled a team of men he could trust with this secret. Soon, the entire country would know about the hidden artwork. What a story to tell.
Last night, Juan Carlos had shared his hopes of putting many of these treasures on display for Alma citizens as well as tourists who would come to view the find. It would be nothing short of a boon for the country. The restoration of the artwork would instill pride and honor in a country once diminished and downtrodden by a dictator. First, though, Portia, along with a Latin art specialist, would have to verify that the pieces were not fakes.
By the time they reached the site, half the graveyard was dug up. Dust swirled through the air from the many mounds of dirt dotting the cemetery. Ten men with shovels and axes were hoisting boxes up from the graves. Luis, with pen and pad in hand, was making an inventory list. As ordered, none of the boxes had been opened.
Juan Carlos helped her down from the Jeep. He took her hand and they walked to where Luis stood next to a gravestone marked with the initials P.P. Tasked with documenting and photographing each headstone before the box was brought up, Luis lifted his head to greet them.
“Your Highness, Princess,” he said. “We have twelve boxes already accounted for. As you can see, we have more to do. We’ve placed them inside the tent over there,” he said, pointing to a room-size tent set up outside the cemetery under guard by two men, “and they are ready for you to open.”
“Thank you, Luis,” Juan Carlos said. “Your men are working faster than I thought. Now, if you’ll come with me, I’ll need you to document what we find as I open the boxes.”
“I’ll take the photos,” Portia said.
Luis handed over his digital camera and nodded. “Thank you, Your Highness.”
Excitement stirred in her belly. To be a part of this find was a dream come true. How many dreams was one person allowed in a lifetime? All this joy in such a short span of time? She’d found adventure and love where she’d least expected it, in the arms of a king.
Inside the tent, Juan Carlos opened box after box, carefully removing the pieces for documentation. Oil paintings, sculptures, bronzed statues and the famed ancient Alma tiara had been locked away and hidden from the world for decades. Portia photographed everything, carefully making mental notes of the pieces she would research for authentication.
They worked alongside the men, until all the pieces were uncovered and the mock cemetery was emptied out. By late afternoon, they’d unearthed twenty-two boxes in all, the grave sites now nothing but pockmarks in the earth.
Juan Carlos climbed to the top of a pile of dirt in the center of the graveyard, his boots spread out, his voice booming to the loyal men who had labored here. As he spoke, shovels were held still, conversations died down. “The Montoro family cemetery has done its job to preserve what is sovereign to our country. You are all a part of Alma history now and I thank you for your hard work today. Until these items are authenticated, I would ask for your silence. Luis and Eduardo have assured me all of you can be trusted. The next step is to transport these pieces back to the palace in the trucks you arrived in. Again, thank you all for your diligence.”
Juan Carlos jumped down from the dirt hill and once again, Portia was reminded of how well he fit the position of king. He was a true diplomat and leader. A man to be admired. Staunch in his beliefs and fair-minded...she was sure if the clocks were turned back in time to when Alma was last ruled by a king, he would have reigned over his people justly.
“What are you staring at?” he asked, approaching her.
She shook off her thoughts and smiled. “How handsome you are with dirt on your face.”
