Waiting, like everyone else, for the event to begin.
. . .
“And so, I present my son, official Heir to the Throne of Latvala, with the key to Kallaster Castle.” Aksel, dressed to the nines in his own military uniform, looking distinguished and at ease, presented a royal blue velvet box sideways to Sander who stood waiting to receive the final gift of the official announcement. Already a new sash had been given to drape around Sander's shoulder and chest, this one silver lined with red. The ceremony had gone without a hitch, the rite of passage passed down from King to firstborn son. All that was left was to gift Sander the key to the castle and make room for the official Heir to take the podium and give his acceptance speech. Across the bottom of the television screen, a ticker tape scrolled by with the commentary in English.
Sander, square shouldered and debonaire in his uniform, bowed his head and eased the lid up on the velvet box before taking possession of it to show the cameras and small crowd gathered as official witnesses. The gold key nestled into a bed of royal blue velvet looked old, and was, Chey thought, more of an iconic gesture than a usable artifact.
“Thank you, your Highness. I accept the role of Heir to the Throne as well as my new holdings.” Sander let the camera get a close up shot of the carved key, before he handed the box over to Mattias who stood at his side.
Then Sander took the podium when the King stepped away.
Chey held her breath. Sander looked commanding and calm, sweeping a look over the gathered. A camera panned the faces watching quickly, in the interim: the Queen watched on with a secret curve on her mouth, as well as Princess Valentina, who looked a lot like the cat who ate the canary. Paavo, Gunnar and their significant others regarded Sander passively, expressions more neutral than not. Natalia observed with her chin notched arrogantly high, eyes covered by a pair of designer shades. Several other dignified men in uniforms or suits flashed quick smiles when they knew they were on camera.
A moment later, the focus shifted back to Sander. He looked straight into the camera.
This was it. No going back now. Chey's skin tingled with nerves and anticipation.
“As Heir to the Throne of Latvala, it is my duty to protect and serve the people of this country. I believe I have proven beyond a shadow of a doubt my loyalty, honesty and integrity in a time when selfishness, greed and corruptness runs rampant. Recently, as everyone is aware, I took a wife,” he said, never breaking eye contact with the camera.
Another angle cut in for a quick shot of Valentina's face. She smiled full and bright and dashed a wink at Sander, though everyone knew he wasn't looking. The angle changed again, and Sander filled the screen.
“Because I am a cautious man, and have my country's safety forefront in my mind, I was forced to view and investigate a piece of information that came to me just after I took my vows. I present a little of the evidence to you as it was presented to me.” Sander quieted as a voice, Valentina's voice, took the airwaves. It was the same piece Chey had heard, with Valentina all but admitting the lies used to manipulate Sander to her will. Any mention of the King or Queen had been culled, making it seem as if Valentina alone orchestrated the quick engagement and wedding.
The camera cut back to Valentina, whose cat-and-canary expression had been replaced by horror. One hand was at her throat, eyes wide. Paavo could be seen frowning, as was Gunnar.
Sander picked up speaking as the audio portion of Valentina's faded.
“To make matters much worse,” he said, staring straight into the lens. Into the hearts of his people. “I discovered directly after this that Valentina is pregnant. With another man's child. It is my belief that she planned to step in as Princess, give birth to an illegitimate child that she claims is mine, and have that child one day become ruler of Latvala.” He paused as gasps of shock and outrage filtered through the crowd. “I'm here to tell you now, that I will not be a party to this country falling into the hands of a child not born of my blood. In response to these stunning insights, I have refused to consummate my marriage. As more details came to light, I see now that it was the best decision I could have made. I demand princess Valentina have a DNA test to prove the child is not mine, and to relinquish her position as my wife for I have already filed an annulment.”
A ripple of discord erupted from the gathered, ranging from another gasp to a growl of warning to what sounded like a plea. Amidst those things, the din of hushed, urgent conversation threatened to over ride the announcement.
Even though she knew it was coming, had prepared herself for the intensity, Chey felt as shocked as some people looked. A few legislators were red faced, Valentina appeared ghost white, as if she might faint, and Aksel...oh, the King was fit to be tied. To the casual observer, it probably seemed the King was furious over the duplicity.
Chey understood it was because he had been upstaged. Beat at his own game.
Sander, steely eyed and calmer than anyone else in the hall, continued. “I urge the people of Latvala to realize I do not take these actions lightly, and will protect the lineage of my bloodline with my life. Princess Valentina has committed an act of treason, punishable by arrest and subject to a full trial and persecution if found guilty. I am willing to forgo her arrest if she agrees to and signs the annulment papers before being deported back to her own country for good. The required paternity test will be performed after her child's birth, to clear up the matter of whose heir it is—or is not—once and for all. Thank you.”
No sooner had Sander stepped away from the podium when he was set upon by a circle of council members, security, his brothers and the King. The camera cut to Valentina, whose guards were helping her to her feet while she wilted and slumped against them, as if Sander had subjected her to a hundred lashes.
As a heated argument broke out, the angle switched back to the anchors in the newsroom. Everyone was scrambling. Papers were thrust onto the desks of the news people while they fit their ear pieces in and bumbled through an initial reaction of stunned disbelief before picking up the loose threads of an event gone to hell in a hurry.
On her feet, Chey paced, watching the television and biting at the short edge of a nail. She didn't want to see the news anchors in the newsroom, she wanted to see what was going on with Sander and the King. She was sure the rest of the country felt the same.
Recalling a few short cuts and back halls in the castle, Chey made a hasty decision.
Why wait here, when she could listen to the confrontation in person? She would have no trouble staying out of sight with everyone's focus on the impending implosion between Sander and Aksel.
Hurrying to the door, she opened it, looked out into the hall, and left the room when she saw the coast was clear.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chey heard the shouting long before she reached the shadowy alcove at the end of the narrow corridor leading into the back of the great hall. She recognized Sander's voice, and Aksel's, and even Paavo's. Ducking behind the seven foot high potted plant covering half the hidden spot, she pressed close to the wall, obscured by the fronds and gloom. Around the corner, in the immense room, the men raged at each other.
It was only then that she realized the shouting match was in the Latvalan tongue.
Damn.
Sometimes, however, English was spoken as much as the other, so she remained, desperate to catch snippets of conversation. Obviously, Aksel was furious with Sander for outing Valentina in such a blunt manner. The woman's fate would race around the country, then to other countries, and onto international magazines that would slander her up one side and down the other.
Chey wished she could feel sorry for the woman who was supposed to be so cunningly sly and sharp. Valentina should have known better than to crow about her triumph in a crowd of people. She should have thought twice before attempting to pass off the child she carried as someone else's. With a sudden turn, Aksel switched to English, his anger such that his words clipped out one on top of the other.
“
No! The damage is done! You have no idea what hell you have just unleashed on the Princess, or her people, or even your own people! You would deny your own child simply to--”
“That is not my child!” Sander raged. “You believe her lies over your own son? She carries another man's seed and has used your own gullibility against you. Would you have a stranger from another land take the throne, change all we have worked for, bled for? I will not have it!”
“This is about payback. This...this is incredibly selfish and beneath you. Over a girl! A foreigner who would have wrecked you for this country you seem so bent on protecting. Enough!” Aksel raised his voice to be heard over Sander.
Chey covered a gasp with her fingertips. The King was referring to her. She was the foreigner he mentioned.
“What you should have done,” Sander said, lowering his voice to a menacing growl. “Was be there for me. Supported me, supported her.”
“What I should have done was killed her when I had the chance,” the King snarled. The sound of his boots cracked over the stone floor as if he'd taken to pacing.
Chey's stomach tightened. Aksel's intentions for her had never been good, and she wondered if the King would secretly send someone after her, just to make sure Sander could not reconnect now that Valentina was out of the way. Or, conversely, to teach Sander a lesson. The King had hinted at it down in the dungeon.
No wonder Sander has been so bent on bringing her home with him that day.
Silence stretched through the great room. Chey hated that she couldn't see what the men were doing. She dared not leave the niche to peek around the corner, however. Anyone might see.
“Here is what will happen now,” Sander said, a tight edge to his voice. “If you do not back down, call off your dogs, I will out you to our people the same way I outed Valentina. They will know you conspired with her, against your own son, all for whatever cheap agenda you plotted between you. I don't care what political achievements you thought this would bring you, or the country, but I'm saying right now that Latvala doesn't need it. We're self sufficient, we have good allies and prosperous citizens. To begin engaging in the skirmishes in nearby countries will only bring heartache and harm to our borders. Until it is absolutely necessary, this country won't be lending military support to anyone else. And when I take a wife, she will be one of my own choosing, whom I believe will be an asset rather than someone hell bent on bringing change at the cost of our bloodline.”
“I could have you arrested for treason--” Aksel didn't get his entire threat out before Sander cut him off.
“But you won't. Because I've set up a system. If I go to jail, or am suddenly arrested, the tapes will be released to the public via an alternate route. All you have to do is turn your back on this whole thing,” Sander said. “Pretend you knew nothing about Valentina's duplicity to the public, I don't care. Perpetrate your lies. Rule your Kingdom as you have been. I will keep the information private and we will all continue on our path until I ascend the throne you have just officially promised me.”
Chey exhaled a quiet breath. Sander was putting everything on the line. As he'd said he would. In her defense, in his own defense, and in a bid to protect the public from the likes of scheming Valentina. Minutes later, when Aksel replied, he sounded almost too agreeable to Chey's ears.
“If this is the only way, so be it. I have misjudged you, Sander. I knew you had the capacity to be ruthless, but I never dreamed I would see the day you unleashed it on your own family. Mark my words: I will be watching. Waiting. The very second you screw up, I will invoke my right to strip you of the power to ascend in my wake. Mattias, prepare yourself. I never thought I would live to say this, but it appears the second in line may yet be King.” Aksel's boots thudded over the stone floor with a crack of finality.
Chey wondered at the switch from giving Paavo the official title back to Mattias. Perhaps the King, in his desperation, decided to fall back on the more apparent heir. Paavo had been a good choice under the former circumstances; Mattias must be the best under these.
She heard the group disperse. The Queen, who had been weirdly silent, began murmuring urgently though Chey could not make out her words. The scuff of boot falls came closer, approaching the narrow corridor harboring the spot Chey hid in. She hunkered deeper into the shadow, fearful they were Aksel's men who could somehow see around corners and into the darkness, and knew she'd been hiding there, listening.
The guards walked right by. Neither checked the alcove, nor so much as glanced her way. Chey saw they were Sander's men anyway, not Aksel's. Releasing a pent up breath, she waited until no more sounds came from the great hall before slipping away from her hidey hole. She wanted to get back up to Sander's suite lest he find her missing from the other room, as well as his, and thought his father had found her.
. . .
On her way back to the suite, Chey wondered, not for the first time, what her future would be like in Latvala. She was in love with Sander, no doubt about it, and unless she missed her guess, he was well on the way to being in love with her, too.
Would they be allowed by the council to take things further? Once this current turmoil passed, would Aksel and Helina turn the other cheek and say nothing when Sander publicly brought her back into his life?
Once upon a time, Chey thought she couldn't handle the strain and tension surrounding Royalty. The subterfuge, secrets and deception were difficult to deal with, never mind the blatant danger.
Now, there was no way she would willingly leave Sander's side. Even if it meant years of strife dealing with his family, or always having to look over her shoulder. She would find a way to have happiness amidst the ranks. Perhaps she would have to make her own ways to protect herself, obtain knowledge that would keep the hounds at bay.
Now you sound just like them, planning and plotting. Chey pressed her lips together when the thought made itself known. Yes, she did sound like Natalia or Helina. What other choice did she have? This was her life she was talking about, and they obviously had no compunction about taking it. Ending it.
Chey would not roll over and die so easily.
Opening the door to Sander's suite, she stepped inside and closed it behind her.
“I was just about to send a search party,” Sander said. “Where were you?”
Chey whirled, surprised he had beat her up here. Sander stood next to Mattias; both men had drinks in their hands.
“Mattias,” she said in greeting, stepping away from the door. Lifting her chin, she decided to be up front with Sander. “I couldn't help it. I wanted to know what was happening, so I crept down that one back hallway and listened around the corner in the great hall.”
Sander snorted. He looked her over, head to toe, dark amusement gleaming in his eyes. “So you are an eavesdropper after all.”
Mattias laughed regardless of the tense situation and took a drink. “Chey,” he finally said. “Did you glean anything useful?”
She walked across the room, closing the distance, relieved neither one seemed angry about her breech in protocol. A girl had to do what she had to do.
“Yes. Do you think the King will back down, now? Will he relent, go back to ruling like you suggested, Sander, and let this drop?” Chey, momentarily overwhelmed at the picture the two Royals made in their military finery, stopped next to a divan and leaned her hip against it. She had that creeping sensation of being out of her element again and attempted to ignore it. Anyone would feel the same, she argued with herself, faced with such a sight. Both Princes wore a mantle of impenetrable intensity that betrayed their attempt at neutral banter.
Sander glanced down into his glass. Gave it a swirl. “All we can do is wait and see. Time will tell what his motives are, or will be.”
“Sander has the upper hand for now,” Mattias added. He finished off what was in his tumbler and slid it to a side table.
“Won't this cause a lot of dissension in your family? I mean—you just threatened your father with blackmail. I guess
I don't understand. I thought you all worked together, that everyone was on the same page,” she said, needing clarification.
“There has been dissension for a long time, Chey. This is the way of it. If it doesn't come from within, it comes from without. The King overstepped, put the people of Latvala in jeopardy. He might be our father, but neither Sander nor I will stand back and be a witness or a party to someone not an Ahtissari taking the throne,” Mattias said. He slid his hands into the pockets of his uniform trousers.
“He drew the line in the sand, Chey, not us. I would not turn my back on my own heir simply because I wasn't in love with its mother. He chose to be blind about it, chose to believe Valentina. He'll have time to rethink his situation. His time as ruler nears an end. The next generation is ready to ascend. What kind of leaders would we be if we didn't step up when it mattered?” Sander finished off his drink and slid the glass down next to Mattias's.
Glancing between them, Chey considered their replies. “I guess. It just seems so drastic. He's your father--”
“Yes, our father. A King. But he's not infallible, Chey. When I take the throne, and if the time comes that I make a poor decision that might put the country in jeopardy, I expect Mattias to rise to the occasion and set things straight. It's how it goes. Sometimes the power goes to their head,” Sander said, muttering the last.
Chey wondered if, someday, the power would go to Sander's head. He was so centered, so self-efficient. She couldn't picture him making such an obviously wrong decision.
“I see. I'm glad it appears to have all gone your way for now. How long until the full effect of the fallout shows up?” she asked.
“Could be tomorrow, could be several days,” Sander said. “We'll keep a low profile here for the next few weeks, see how it shakes out. I won't feel comfortable bringing you out into the open until some of the media frenzy dies down.”
King and Kingdom (Royals Book 2) Page 20