King and Kingdom (27 page)

“It's possible. I'd like to think people will believe I'm doing this in the best interest of Latvala, rather than for myself. We can't have the country ruled by someone else's bastard. It could cause the collapse of the country should that child decide to wreak havoc later in life.” Sander tongued his teeth and shook his head.

“It's risky, too, because the King won't know what you're doing. So he'll be on camera, right? His reaction will be broadcast for all to see. I imagine he won't be happy about that,” she said.

“Not even a little bit happy,” Sander replied. “Valentina will be there as well. She has no idea it's coming. She thinks this whole thing will exalt her into a whole other stratosphere, celebrity wise.”

Chey cringed inwardly. She would
not
want to be Valentina when that betrayal came out.

“She should have thought about her manipulations beforehand. Never mind crowing about it in public, how she was using you.” Chey paused, then asked, “What excuse are you giving her about not sleeping in her bed?”

“The most obvious one. That I'm angry about the way she trapped me into marriage. I've told her she'll get my attention when I'm good and ready to give it, and not a second before. She knows better than to push me too far.” He brought his attention back to Chey. His gaze lingered on her eyes.

“It'll all be okay. I think it'll work out how you want it to. It's just the details and things in the meantime.”

Sander looked thoughtful. He pushed away from the side table and approached. Once he stood right in front of her chair, he cupped her jaw in his hand and stroked his thumb over the arch of her cheek. “The details are what will make or break it. I'll make sure we get you somewhere safe while they're here.”

Chey stared up at his face and tilted her cheek into his touch. “I was about to ask you if there was somewhere discreet I could watch and still not be seen.”

“Yes,” he replied with a wry grin. “On television.”

Chapter Twenty-One

In the three days before the televised announcement, Chey spent what time she could with Sander when he wasn't hammering out the last minute details. He showed her the dungeons and gave her a brief history on the castle's role in keeping Latvala safe from invasion. They ate lunch on the trellis covered patio, took long, hot soaks in the jacuzzi tub, and wandered the beach hand in hand. Mesmerized by the raw beauty of the bay, Chey promised herself many trips back. Sander was more interested in watching her reactions; every time she glanced aside, his eyes were on her face. He wore a content looking smile and strolled at her side as if he didn't have a care in the world.

They both knew better.

On the morning of the third day, Sander rose early, showered and shaved, and donned a military uniform in navy blue with silver accents. He looked smart and sharp by the time he'd pulled on polished boots, attached his sword to his belt and tied his hair back into a low tail.

Chey chose to wear clothes for comfort, since she was required to stay out of sight. Jeans, a long sleeved white shirt and a mint green cardigan over that. She wore tennis shoes in case she needed to move quickly.

After a warm, lingering kiss with Sander and quiet wishes for a successful outcome, she watched him depart the suite. Mira led Chey to an empty bedroom on the third level with a television hooked up that would give her a firsthand view of what the rest of the public would see. This room also overlooked the entrance gate, giving Chey the ability to watch everyone arrive. As long as she stayed behind the curtain and observed through the crack, no one would see her.

Chey paced the room, agitated and nervous, as the minutes ticked by. At precisely nine-thirty, the security began to arrive. They came by boat, and then overland, flanking the drive and the perimeter of the castle. Valentina arrived first by helicopter and was driven onto the castle grounds much as Chey and Sander had been a few days past. Chey watched Valentina's car cruise along the drive toward the front doors. She wondered what the Princess thought, and whether Valentina was already deciding on what to change to put her stamp on the structure.

The chop of rotor blades cut through the air, lifting off once more to return to the mainland and pick up the King and Queen.

Everything was ready.

Chey turned the television on. So far, the screen showed news anchors in Kalev discussing the upcoming event, with flashes of Sander growing from child to man, preparing to take on the official honor of heir to the throne. The pictures of Sander as a boy were endearing and charming, and Chey smiled to herself more than once. Even as a child he had a presence about him, a rakish sort of charisma that had carried over into manhood.

She realized then that even at the risk of a broken heart, she wouldn't change a thing. It was worth fighting for, this relationship, especially after spending the last three days with Sander at the castle. They fit together well, alternating between playful banter, serious conversation and intense passion. Chey better understood now why Mattias had pushed for Sander to take this path where he might have a shot at real love rather than a lifetime with someone like Valentina, who obviously cared more about the title than anything else.

What it meant for the long run, Chey wouldn't consider at any great length. She couldn't picture herself as Queen, wouldn't know the first thing about supporting Sander in that role. For now it was enough to be with him and work out these problems before she allowed herself to seriously contemplate the Kingdom at that level.

It was more than a little frightening and intimidating.

Distracted by the television, she perched on the edge of the bed and watched as the news anchors came at the story from a different angle. This one stretched into the future, projecting Sander, one day, as King. The supporters they interviewed on the snowy streets of Kalev were enthusiastic and excited. Sander unequivocally had the backing of Latvala's citizens.

Long minutes later, the sound of the helicopter drew Chey off the bed. At the window, she saw the aircraft land and eventually, a trio of sedans pulled away for the castle. The cars filed in, ferrying the King and Queen to the castle doors.

Nervous, knowing the time was short, Chey turned up the volume on the television and pulled over a plush chair to sink down into. Bringing a foot up into the chair with her, she wrapped her arms around her knee and watched the news team begin to shift the focus to Kallaster Castle. A still photo blended into a live shot, replete with a gray sky and snow clinging to the spires and peaks of the castle itself.

The shot switched abruptly to the great hall where a podium with a microphone had been set up, backed by the soaring, beamed ceiling, giant tapestries and chandeliers. It was an impressive angle. In the background, reporters spoke in a quieter voice while they speculated and filled the silence with idle commentary.

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.