Latvala Royals: Bloodlines

by Danielle Bourdon

  “Shine your light here,” he instructed as he drew within range.

  Inari flashed her beam onto the dagger then onto the hilt where he gestured with his thumb.

  The name carved into the metal was not what she expected to see. She gasped in shock as she tried desperately to put the pieces together. What did it mean? Inari glanced at Elias’s face and searched his eyes.

  He looked as shocked as she felt.

  This wasn’t a small find.

  It was a potentially monumental, life-changing piece of history.

  Chapter 27

  In the cold underground, with flashlight beams slanting crosswise over the dagger’s hilt, Elias read the name again.

  Ariss Rehn Ahtissari.

  Ariss. Rehn. Ahtissari.

  Rehn. Of the Rehn dynasty? But what was he doing with the Ahtissari surname attached?

  Elias’s stomach knotted with tension. He couldn’t get rid of the shock that briefly held him immobile as his mind raced with implications and what-ifs. He did not recognize the name Ariss, did not ever remember any of his ancestors having the middle name Rehn to pass down.

  It was the kind of coincidence he didn’t believe in. For one of his Ahtissari ancestors to have Rehn as a middle name meant something. This wasn’t a naming of convenience or happenstance.

  This was a clue.

  “Okay,” Inari said with a tremble in her voice. “Let’s break it down—wait, before we start conjecturing, maybe you should come into the hallway. I’m not sure how much longer I can hold the door.”

  Elias arched his beam away from the dagger toward the tunnel, where the sound of a shoe scuffing the floor drew his attention. Three guards came into view, their beams aimed at the ground.

  “Let’s have them hold the door and you can come in with me. We need to go through all the boxes and see if there are any journals or papers or maps, then we can take it back to Kallaster and really take our time with it. You good with that?” Elias asked. He needed time to process. To come to grips with the discovery. A large part of him believed he’d stumbled across something that might change the landscape of his life in ways he could not yet imagine. Yes, he wanted to start ruling out scenarios, was anxious for answers. But he didn’t want to leave more possible clues unchecked in the crates and boxes while they were down there.

  “Yes. Let’s hurry,” Inari said.

  And so, once the guards had been brought up to speed, Elias retreated into the cavern and tasked Inari along with two guards to go through the crates. He wanted anything that resembled a journal or book of any kind to be set aside. Any maps, papers, uniforms, material, or weapons.

  As it turned out, the hidden cavern was a goldmine.

  They discovered a handful of books, all journals, along with several more weapons depicting the old crest and three maps that were so faded Elias wasn’t sure they’d be able to make out all the details.

  Halfway through the process, he radioed up top and ordered his lead guard to send more men down. He also ordered the guard to radio back to Kallaster Castle and put Sander on alert. Elias wanted a team ready to extract the skeleton at the soonest possible moment. He did not mention the carved name on the dagger to anyone as they worked, and warned Inari with just a glance not to say anything either.

  That particular bit of information needed to stay quiet until he could get behind closed doors with his father. It wouldn’t do to have rumors get out that might wind up with the media, who would speculate the details to death.

  Several hours later, Elias departed the underground cavern with Inari on his heels. His arms were full of books and Ariss’s dagger; hers were packed with more books and a stack of folded papers. They emerged eventually into the late afternoon sun and hauled their prizes to the waiting SUVs. He couldn’t wait to get the artifacts back to Kallaster Castle and study them in a more controlled environment.

  Once they’d carefully deposited their findings in the back of the Land Rover, Elias climbed behind the wheel and headed for the docks. He was of a mind to drive rather than rely on a member of their security team. Inari’s men followed in the vehicle behind, along with two of Elias’s own personal security. The rest remained behind to keep watch over the castle.

  Soon, Elias hoped, he would have answers to some very pressing questions.

  * * *

  Inari laid her armful of books on the broad desk in Sander’s downstairs office. The room was large and decorated in masculine textures of dark wood and exquisite fawn-colored leather. Bookcases lined one wall, while maps of Latvala and the world lined another. A fireplace sat in the corner, flanked by two plush chairs, while thick beams arched overhead on a tall ceiling. She took in the details secondhand, almost subconsciously, because her attention kept darting to Elias. His intent expression had lasted the entire trip from the mainland to Pallan Island, and was still there.

  They locked gazes across the desk.

  He came around the edge, one hand trailing across the surface, until he stood directly in front of her.

  Inari tilted her chin to see his eyes better. “Do you think I should leave you and your father to sort things out? I don’t want to be in the way.”

  It was the last thing she wanted to do. Her precocious nature demanded she stay and help work through the mystery until an answer came.

  Never mind the fact she was curious as hell.

  “You’re definitely not in the way. Stay as long as you like. I trust you to keep all this to yourself. Now, my father, if he decides he doesn’t want any witnesses to whatever we find . . .”

  “I know.” The king might see things differently than his son. Inari was familiar with that aspect of being a reigning king’s offspring. She understood.

  He kissed her mouth gently, then commandingly. Inari laid her palms on his sides and slid them around to his back. She was aware they couldn’t get too carried away—Sander was due soon, after all—but she enjoyed every second that the kiss lasted. When their mouths parted, she stared into his eyes, pleased to see an affected look in his own.

  “Once all this is over and we have answers, once we’re a little further past the Valentina situation, I think you and I should go away together. Maybe Switzerland or South America. Maybe a Caribbean island. Somewhere fewer people will recognize us,” he said, dragging his fingers through the ends of her hair.

  “What, and not date properly first?” she said, grinning.

  “Well, we could do that, I suppose. Everyone will know, though, and we’ll be lucky to have a private moment to ourselves. Once word gets out that we’re seeing each other, all bets are off.”

  She knew it was true. The relationship between a future king and queen—from different countries no less—would be hashed to death. All manner of speculation and misinformation would surface, not to mention the political ramifications it might have. Some countries would be defensive, some eager to make an alliance, still others wary and on the fence.

  Nothing would be the same.

  Not ever.

  “All right. We’ll sneak away. I’m not sure what’ll happen if we’re found out anyway and the media gets word,” she said.

  “It’ll be a scandal of monumental proportions,” Elias said with a laugh.

  “What will be a monumental scandal?” Sander said from the doorway.

  Inari dropped her arms from around Elias as if she’d been burned. She knew she shouldn’t feel guilty or conspicuous, but it was his father. “Your Majesty.”

  Elias did not seem as quick to hide their affection, she noticed. He swiveled a look toward the door and only then let his hands fall back to his sides.

  “If the media discovers Inari and me vacationing in secret at a romantic destination,” Elias said.

  Inari withstood Sander’s sudden, incisive glance. She knew what he was thinking. Would this little fling turn into something more? Was Inari the right woman for Elias? Was she looking for more in the hookup than love? She’d grown up at her own father’s knee and underst
ood the semantics of marrying for political gain.

  That was not what this was about, however, and she withstood Sander’s glance with as much aplomb as possible. The reigning king of Latvala sauntered deeper into the office. He wore an old pair of khaki pants, worn out lace-up boots, and a long-sleeved ribbed sweater the color of oatmeal.

  Very dressed down for a sitting king.

  Inari had heard a lot about Sander through her father, of course, most of it politically motivated. She knew of the wars he’d fought, the sacrifices he’d made, his fairness in dealing with his people.

  Sander wore his middle age well. Bits of silver had crept in along his hairline and the creases at the corners of his eyes and mouth only added character to his handsome face. It struck Inari as Sander drew even closer that Elias was nearly a spitting image of his father. Same dark blond hair streaked with lighter pieces at the top and sides, same athletic build, same projection of inner confidence.

  “Let me know if I can help keep it under cover,” Sander said with a wink Inari’s way.

  She smiled and slowly released a pent-up breath.

  Sander wasn’t going to be standoffish and judgmental. If he had reservations about what he’d just seen, he didn’t show it or say so.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “What’s this I hear about a skeleton?” Sander asked as he closed in on the desk. He ran his fingertips briefly over the top of a dusty book.

  Elias said, “We’ve discovered another dagger with the old crest, found in the box with the dead man. We might never know if the dagger actually belonged to the man, or if someone else left it there for reasons we can’t begin to guess. The name carved on the handle just doesn’t make any sense, though.”

  “And the name was?” Sander asked.

  “Ariss Rehn Ahtissari.”

  Chapter 28

  Elias studied his father’s face as the reality of what he’d just said sank in. The room fell quiet for several long minutes.

  “What the hell?” Sander finally said. “Let me see the dagger.”

  Elias liberated the piece from a wrap of material he’d found in the Land Rover. After unwinding the material, he left the dagger sitting atop it on the desk within easy viewing range of the king.

  “One side has the old crest, as I call it. The other side is engraved with the name. We found papers, maps, and journals, too, but it’s going to take some time to go through them all and see if there’s any mention of who the dead man is and why he was entombed down there,” Elias said as his father examined the dagger closely.

  “Ariss Rehn Ahtissari,” Sander said. His voice had dropped to a whisper. “I don’t recall ever hearing of an Ariss Ahtissari, and the name Rehn was not passed down through the generations.” He paused, then added, “Our generations.”

  “I do not recall seeing the name in our literature,” Elias said. “And it seems very unlikely to me that one noble family would honor the name of another family with whom they have appeared to have so much strife.”

  “I don’t see that happening, either,” Sander said. “Let me know what you find when you go through the papers here. Hopefully we’ll get some answers.”

  Elias nodded, watched his father exit the office, and then glanced at Inari. “You ready to dig in?”

  “I’ve been ready since we left the castle.”

  * * *

  For two hours, they pored meticulously over the journals. It was slow going, both due to the careful handling required of the pages and the sometimes hard-to-read script. Elias’s first book was a memoir from one of the king’s brothers. He learned several new things from the thin tome, but nothing earth shattering or groundbreaking. The king’s brother had been more interested in complaining about his own lack of power and the frustrations he endured because of it.

  There’d been no mention of Ariss or changes on the crest.

  Now and then he glanced across the table to find Inari immersed in her task, delicate brows furrowed over her pretty eyes. She caught him staring once or twice, but he did not shy away from her attention. He enjoyed having her there, trusting her enough with his family history to explore the nuances together. He felt a bond forming, a tether that he welcomed into the more intimate aspects of his life.

  They took a break to stretch and refresh with drinks, finally, and Elias decided to take her on a walk down one of the hallways that he liked to think of as ancestor row. Many, many paintings hung there, all Ahtissari royalty, dating back too many generations to count. He watched Inari’s face as she paused to examine many pieces, curious over her own intense curiosity. The longer they walked and looked, the more intrigued she seemed to become.

  “What’s on your mind?” he finally asked, shoulder brushing against hers.

  “I’m not sure what it is. I can’t quite pinpoint what’s caught my eye.” She gestured to the painting they currently stood in front of.

  Elias faced the painting and tried to look at it from another point of view.

  It was a man, one of his direct ancestors, sitting astride a dark horse somewhere in an open field. The background beyond that was done in gloomy shades so he could not detect anything familiar, only the recognition of trees and a few large rocks. Most of the focus was on the rider, of course, as would be expected for royalty. Elias thought perhaps Inari was comparing the resemblance between himself and his ancestor, though he personally saw very little with this particular grandfather. If anything, he could claim the strong jawline and the lighter hair.

  “I’ve seen it so many times it’s difficult for me to help you decide what’s caught your attention,” he admitted.

  Inari hummed then moved on to the next painting.

  Another great-great someone, male again, though this king happened to be settled negligently upon his throne. He had the same blondish hair as himself and his father, the same pronounced jaw. Elias glanced from the painting to Inari, but did so discreetly. She’d brought her fingertips to her mouth by then and was tapping her lower lip. Thoughtful.

  He decided to move to the next painting while she considered whatever it was she was considering. As with the precise timing of seeing someone almost dump a drug into Inari’s drink, Elias’s gaze snagged upon a much less relevant part of the painting he currently stood in front of. Not the king lounging on a chaise with a sword held point down, or the apparently favored caramel-colored dog lying loyally at the king’s feet. What his gaze landed on was a shield propped against the end of the chaise, as if forgotten, the angle just barely allowing him to see two lions face-to-face, with an A between them.

  He took a sudden step closer and narrowed his eyes. His vision did not deceive him. That was the same crest that he’d found on the daggers.

  The crest that was not the same as today’s Ahtissari clan. How the hell had that slipped past so many people? Or had the angle simply deceived those who had looked? Perhaps the slim view of the lions was all it had taken to throw people off so that no one looked closer.

  Maybe historians had thought the painter had it all wrong. Sometimes details were mistakenly confused.

  “Inari, look here. See anything familiar?” Elias asked.

  Inari stepped over immediately. She scanned the painting, though she seemed to keep focusing on the king’s features. “I don’t see too much of you in him, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “No. Look closer.”

  He saw her continue to study the king himself, scanning the man’s face.

  “Other than the king,” Elias said.

  Inari took a step back from the painting and conducted a thorough inspection. Elias could see her breaking down the objects piece by piece, starting from the left to the right.

  She missed the shield’s contents on the first try.

  “The shield!” she said a few minutes later on her second pass. She stepped up to the painting and gestured to the vague depiction of the lions. “That’s very hard to make out because of the angle. What do you think? Was this on purpos
e or a mistake? A message?”

  “I don’t know. Perhaps it was a message, but the potency of it got lost over the centuries. Lost and forgotten. What’s a little frustrating is that this may have been an older shield when this painting was done, so it doesn’t give us a specific date to go back to. Maybe this ancestor added it at the last second as his own message. Or a reminder.”

  “I was about to say, too, that it would give us a good starting point in time. To go back before him for the answers. But you’re right. I’m sure the sword he’s holding isn’t brand new, either. Probably passed down, an heirloom of sorts. The shield could have been the same. Even something gifted to him as a child that he was fond of and wanted in the painting as a remembrance of his grandfather before him,” Inari said.

  Elias grunted. All were possibilities.

  “I wonder if there are other clues we’ve missed over the centuries,” he said, stepping on to the next painting with renewed interest.

  “I don’t know, but this is exciting, Elias. It makes me want to go back to Somero and dig around my ancestor’s pasts.”

  He smiled and looked away from the portrait of a distant king. “It can be addictive. You already know of my interest. Sometimes there’s just no telling what you’ll find.”

  “I see that.” Inari studied his face. “Why don’t we go through all of these paintings, since we’re on a break of sorts, and look closer at the smaller details? We might find something else. If not, we’ll get back to the papers and journals.”

  Charmed by her undeniable enthusiasm, Elias gestured to the other wall. “You start at one end there. I’ll start on this side.”

  And so it began. Elias parted from Inari to begin a more thorough inspection of the portraits. He paid close attention to the details in ways he hadn’t before, standing back a few feet to give him a better perspective. Sometimes you had to literally see the whole picture before something jumped out.