Quella pace gradita

Luis's illness is not only confirmed, but it gets worse at a dizzying rate. No one dares to tell him, but he knows that things are serious. All his plans, all his dreams, all his illusions as a king and as a man are fading away without him being able to move from his bed. There are no two ways of saying it: the king is dying. And in the midst of all the comings and goings of botched doctors and gentlemen in cassocks who connect one mass with another, the only one who remains by his side day and night is Luisa.