“Maybe,” Chey said, remaining vague.
Wynn exhaled, long and suffering, just because she knew it would amuse Chey. Then, in a turn of seriousness, she asked, “How are you doing knowing the guys are off doing dangerous things?”
“I'm dealing. There's no way Sander can keep doing this, so I know that once he's back, it'll take war or something close for him to put himself in jeopardy again. I don't know how you do it, Wynn. And when you told me that you gave him your blessing, I almost fell off my chair.”
“You can't believe what it took for me to get to that point. It was an entire coming around, moving from one emotion to another. I'll still worry, and it's strange to know he's doing something so important that I can't be a part of in some other country. I mean, I don't even know if they've taken off, or found out who arranged all this, and whether Leander is dealing with that himself or if he's with Mattias. It was almost better to be there, because then at least I knew what was going on.”
“I agree. It was better to be there. I'm not sure I could ever give Sander my blessing though, not when it means the end of his reign if he dies.”
“Leander doesn't have all that to worry about. I guess that's probably what makes his 'job' easier.” Wynn drew the tip of her tongue across the edge of her teeth. “And you know, I likened it to caging up a lion. What it would be like for Leander if I demanded he stop doing what he loves. I could see him so clearly in my mind's eye, pacing the cottage and the grounds, perpetually restless. It made my heart hurt. So I decided to just suck it up. I won't ever be able to know all the details of his missions, and that's just something I'll have to live with.”
“I didn't think about it like that,” Chey said in a thoughtful voice.
“Even if you felt the same about Sander, the situation is still different. Sander's got a kingdom to run and be responsible for.”
“Yes. Maybe he can do...smaller things. Not as dangerous.”
Wynn smiled, reaching up to adjust the blindfold without removing it. “You start to realize that the action and challenge is something they crave, like some men crave football or horse races or climbing mount everest. It's what they like, or love, and in the end, it was just too hard to say no.”
“We could always make them take us along,” Chey said in a teasing voice.
Wynn laughed. “As if they'd ever go for that.”
“Sometimes they don't always get what they want,” Chey announced.
Wynn snorted. “Who are we kidding? We give them everything they want.”
“I know. It's true,” Chey agreed with a laugh. “But don't tell them I said so. They need to think we're in charge.”
A moment later, the limousine began to slow. Chey said, “We're here.”
. . .
Exiting the limousine, hand tucked into Chey's for guidance, Wynn listened for her first clues. All she heard was the bustling wind. No car horns, no sounds of foot traffic, no plethora of engines gunning at a red light.
If this was a shopping district, it was the quietest one Wynn ever heard.
“Okay. Get ready.”
Scents of wildflowers and tall grass hit Wynn just as Chey brought her to a halt. Wynn frowned, then reached up with one hand, ready to rip the blindfold off. “Where the heck are we--”
“Take the blindfold off and find out,” Chey said, loosening the tie at the back.
Gasping as the wrap of satin fell away, Wynn took in the sight of the lovely stone church. The one she'd wanted to show Leander—the same one she was woefully behind decorating. Sitting alone in a meadow, flanked in the distance by a treeline and snow capped mountains, the old stone church sported stunning stained glass windows and a high spire. Leander hadn't wanted to marry in a church at all, but Wynn loved this place so. What made it heartwarming and striking were the swags of netting and arch of ivy over the double doors. A length of creamy satin spanned the steps for the bride to ascend, just as Wynn wanted. Chey had, somehow, someway, already done the majority of the decorating. Little twinkle lights shined within the netting and the ivy both, a charming addition to the décor.
Wynn tucked the blindfold into a pocket, then grabbed Chey into a tight hug. “When did you arrange this?”
Laughing, Chey returned the hug and said, “I knew I was going to do this before we ever left Latvala a few days ago. During the long flights across the world, I coordinated with my assistants. Everyone was happy to pitch in and help.”
Approaching the impressive facade of the church, Wynn ran her fingers lightly over the netting and then the ivy. She said, “All that's left to be done out here are the floral displays.”
Chey meandered in Wynn's wake, lips curled at the corners with a smile. “Yes. I have it all arranged already. The teams will bring the fresh flowers over that morning, a few hours before the wedding.”
“Wow, Chey. This takes such a load off my mind.” Wynn touched the heavy iron door handle. “Can we go inside? Did you already do all that, too?”
“Of course.” Chey made a grand gesture of opening the door for Wynn.
Laughing in delight, Wynn stepped into a foyer area that preceded two more closed doors that led into the actual church. Here, too, Chey's touch was everywhere. More netting, ivy, cream satin swags. The twinkle lights interspersed through the ivy shined brighter indoors. Custom seating had been made, too, with cream satin brocade to accommodate the wedding participants before Wynn walked down the aisle.
“This is so perfect! I can't believe you had these done,” Wynn ran her fingers over the satin and wood benches.
“I knew you'd want somewhere for your dad to sit—and for your bridesmaids, too.” Chey winked. As maid of honor and bridesmaid, Chey and Krislin would be waiting in the foyer with Wynn as well.
“I love it.” Floored, Wynn traced her steps to the second pair of closed double doors leading into the main room and set a hand on the heavy, carved wood. “Can I look in here, too?”
“I wouldn't have brought you all this way not to let you see it all,” Chey said with a quiet laugh.
Wynn grabbed an iron handle while Chey grabbed the other and tugged the doors open. If Chey had gone all out, accomplished every last detail in Wynn's wedding planner, then Wynn knew she was in for a treat. She wanted the interior to be whimsical and fantastical, with satin swags on the stone, twinkle lights on the high ceiling beams, and scads of netting along each stone pew.
The sight waiting beyond the doors shocked Wynn to her core. It wasn't just the fairytale like setting, of which Chey had perfected to a tee, but the people scattered near the front by an altar. People Wynn was not expecting to see, considering the absolute absence of any other vehicle outside.
Silence fell over the small crowd. Most had smiles on their faces. Wynn's gaze landed on Sander, Mattias—Leander. He stood at the juncture of the pews, hands tucked casually in the pockets of a pair of sand khakis. A plain pullover shirt of darker brown hugged his lean torso, the sleeves ending right where the bulge of his biceps began. Half the front of his hair had been pulled back, as usual, the rest left to fall to the top of his shoulders. He met her eyes, lips stretching into a welcoming grin.
“Leander!” Wynn broke into an excited run, arms flinging wide, ready to attack him with a hug. The platform Mary Janes gave her no trouble in flight, and she had a fleeting moment of relief that she'd changed into a blue and green plaid pencil skirt, paired with a navy button down shirt, before she'd left the cottage. It was better than a ratty pair of jeans and nondescript white tee.
“Hey baby,” Leander said amidst a sudden chorus of cheers by onlookers. He caught her in his arms, laughing, and spun her in a slow circle.
“You're here! Chey didn't say a thing! She wouldn't tell me where we were going, and then we got here, and I thought it was for the decorations, and then you're here!” Excited beyond measure, and secretly relieved to see Leander in one piece, Wynn framed his face with her hands and kissed him. That he was here at the church, where he hadn't wanted to g
et married, gave Wynn a spark of hope that he might indulge her after all.
“She wanted to surprise you,” Leander said once the kiss ended. He held her aloft, arms caught around her hips. “Which it looks like she did.”
“Yes.” Wynn laughed and peppered more kisses over Leander's cheeks and forehead. When she glanced up the aisle to give Chey a pretend glare for the secrecy, she saw her best friend all wrapped up in Sander. Of course. She should have known those two wouldn't keep their hands off each other longer than they had to.
“Chey managed to surprise us both, I think,” Leander added.
“She's sneaky like that,” Wynn said, kissing Leander again. Finally, she got a good look around. “And she got every detail exactly right. We just need the flowers and the wedding day itself.”
“Good. So you won't have to spend tomorrow here, decorating until the wee hours,” Leander said, as if he'd known all along she was quite behind schedule.
“No, thank goodness. I've got other things to do, and of course I want to spend time with you before tomorrow night.”
“What's tomorrow night?” he asked with an arched brow.
“I'm spending the night at the castle with the girls. You won't see me after that until the wedding.”
“Oh, that's right. A whole night without you in our bed, whatever will I do,” he drawled in amusement.
Wynn pinched the side of his neck, laughing, eliciting a fake whine of pain from Leander. She said, “If you're not careful, I'll cut you off until after the honeymoon.”
“No you won't.” He lifted his chin in a show of arrogance.
“Won't I?” Wynn knew she wouldn't, but it was fun to play the game. She smoothed the hair at his temples and stared into his eyes.
“You can't resist me that long.” Finally, he loosened his hold enough to allow her feet to touch the ground.
“You're right, I can't. It was a good try though,” she teased. Then, before he or anyone else could sidetrack her, Wynn lowered her voice to a whisper and asked, “So what happened in Serbia?”
“This and that.”
“What do you mean, this and that? Details, mister.” Wynn, now relegated to looking up instead of down, set her hands on Leander's hips. She had the crazy urge to strip his shirt off and look for wounds.
“It's a boring story, actually, and probably better for another time than here.” He pointedly glanced beyond her at the smattering of people.
Wynn feigned a momentarily sulk, kissed Leander's chin, then took a step back. He was right, after all. These folks weren't here for their health. Half turning to see exactly who'd come all the way out to the church, Wynn found herself delighted to see everyone involved in the wedding party: Mattias and Sander, Chey and Gunnar's wife Krislin—whom Wynn had grown quite close to—and the man set to marry her and Leander, mister Allan Koski. Gunnar was present as well as Natalia, who clipped Wynn a wink when their gazes met. Over time, Wynn and Chey both had learned to accept the former troublemaker, especially when Natalia made an effort to curb her biting remarks and scathing attitude. Other faces from the castle, staff members and assistants, most of whom Wynn had befriended, bustled to and from a back room, setting up tables at the front and side of the church.
“Okay, it's time to get started,” Chey said from the back of the room.
Wynn flipped a surprised look Chey's way, wondering what, exactly, she meant. “Get started?”
“We're doing the rehearsal tonight instead of tomorrow night.” Chey dazzled a smile Wynn's way.
“Tonight?” Wynn hadn't considered the rehearsal. “Why not tomorrow night?”
“Because tomorrow and tomorrow night, you'll be busy.” Chey curled a finger in a come-hither way toward Wynn, drawing a rowdy laugh from the onlookers.
Laughing, Wynn kissed Leander, then walked back up the aisle, followed by Krislin, as the rest of the crowd took their places. Mattias and Sander went to the front with Leander and Mister Koski. A sweet strain of music trickled into the church as Wynn stepped into the foyer with Chey.
“This is just going to be a quick run through,” Chey said, leaving the doors open. She met Wynn's eyes as she passed out faux bouquets to the bride and Krislin. “You ready?”
Wynn accepted the bouquet, elated to have those she loved close by. There was only one thing missing; her parents, due to arrive tomorrow for the ceremonies.
“Ready,” Wynn said, and meant it.
“I guess it's time for me to take my place, then, isn't it?” a gruff voice said from the outer door.
Wynn gasped and turned around.
There on the threshold stood her mother and father, grinning as wide as the world.
“You're here! I was just thinking you were the only thing missing!” Laughing, Wynn hugged her father, a tall, distinguished man with hair more silver than black. Then she traded hugs with her mother, a petite version of herself with short dark hair and wide dark eyes.
“Chey made sure we didn't miss the fun,” Mister Hudson said with a wink to the girls.
“She said you had plans tomorrow anyway. Something about a bachelorette party...” Missus Hudson added.
Pleased beyond good reason, Wynn held her parents at arms length and looked between their beloved faces. “I don't know anything about a bachelorette party--”
“Shhh. Look, it's time for you to practice walking down the aisle,” Krislin said, interrupting as if on cue.
Wynn caught the tail end of a look from Chey to Krislin, and embraced her mother one last time before allowing her to find a seat at the head of the church. “You're just full of surprises, Chey Ahtissari.”
“I'm your maid of honor, Winnie, it's my job.”
“Don't call me Winnie.”
Laughing, Mister Hudson and Krislin guided the mock squabbling pair toward the doors. Everyone got into position for the practice run-through.
From the front of the church, Leander's voice bellowed over the quiet music. “We're going to be late for your practice rehearsal! Hurry up.”
A round of rolling laughter swept through the room.
All Wynn could do was smile. She hadn't checked with Leander about his possible discomfort over getting married in a church with more people present than he preferred, but he was here, which meant, in Wynn's book, a reluctant agreement to go along with her plans.
“I hope you're ready,” Wynn's father said under his breath, as Chey and then Krislin walked down the aisle.
“I've never been more ready in my life.” Wynn meant every word.
Chapter Sixteen
It wasn't so bad, Leander thought, looking around the church. For months he had put up a stink about even thinking of saying vows in a place like this, filled to the brim with people whose sole focus would be himself and Wynn. He was known as the understated man of the bunch, the one who cared little for public perception and big public displays. A small gathering of ten on the beach of Pallan Island right outside their cottage-that-wasn't-exactly-a-cottage would have done him just fine. Yet in a decided twist of irony, it was the people themselves that made the idea tolerable. Mattias and Sander, standing adjacent to him with drinks in hand, were the most casual and comfortable company he could have hoped for, kings and princes notwithstanding. Wynn's parents, Mister and Missus Hudson, whom he'd met several times over the course of the year and liked more than he wanted to admit, were warm hearted and ever kind. There were the 'girls'--Chey, Krislin and even Natalia, the witch of a sister to the Ahtissari brothers who had calmed much of her witchly ways. Tomorrow there would be many more, an entire church full of people, but Wynn's exuberance and delighted peals of laughter cut straight to the core every time he heard them. It made what amounted to torture worth it in the end.
Of course, he thought that now. Day after tomorrow, when all he saw was a sea of faces and unblinking stares, he might question his sanity and judgement.
“How're you holding up?” Mattias said near his ear.
“Not too bad. I'm glad someone th
ought to do dinner and drinks.” Leander held a bottle of water instead of liquor. Behind them, tables sat randomly throughout the front of the church, the remnants of the rehearsal dinner being cleaned away by staff that came and went from the back of the building. Discreet, unobtrusive, Chey had planned it all out very well.
“So I guess you've committed to the wedding here, then.”
“I did. When we called ahead and talked to Chey, she told me what she was planning and that she'd had the church decorated for Wynn. I had to figure out if I really wanted to ruin Wynn's dreams or not before we ever touched down in Latvala.” Leander quirked his lips, a wry gesture rather than an annoyed one. He caught sight of Wynn across the rows of pews. The persistent worry creases from the last few days were gone from her forehead and she exuded an effervescent glow that appealed to him as it had from the beginning. To see her this light-hearted and happy mattered more to him than whatever discomfort he might suffer on their wedding day.
“Chey's wily like that,” Sander interjected with a knowing, proud grin. “She knew you were on the fence about the church. This way, she gently nudged you into a decision without a big confrontation between you and Wynn.”
“Yeah, she's wily all right,” Leander retorted. “We should invite her on the next mission.”
Sander's expression fell flat. Fast.
Leander threw his head back and barked a laugh. “That was too easy, old man,” Leander said when he got his breath back.
“I'll show you just what an old man I'm not.” Sander muttered under his breath and finished off his drink.
Leander clapped a hand across his own chest, amused as hell. “Let's go. Outside, right now. Winner gets bragging rights.”
“It's a wedding rehearsal,” Mattias said in a tone that clearly stated he thought someone should be the voice of reason.
“Right now. Bragging rights.” Sander set his glass down with a thump, pointed at Leander, then stalked for the side door.
Laughing, Leander tossed his bottle away and followed the king, shoulders back and chin up, all but strutting to the exit.
Royal Elite: Leander Page 14