Heir Untamed (22 page)

It was Natalia, of course, who broke the awkward pause. Her chair scraped back over the floor when she stood up.

“What is
she
doing here?” Natalia demanded.

“Quiet your mouth,” Mattias hissed. “Miss Sinclair is my
invited
guest to dinner. I want to know which one of you extended another to Viia without my knowledge
or approval.”

Had Chey been on the receiving end of Mattias's dark tone and predatory stare, she would have withered and disappeared under the table. Pronto.

“I did not realize an invitation was needed,” the Queen said after a long sip of her wine. “After all, Viia
is
your intended. This woman is not.”

This woman.
The Queen could not have sounded more disdainful if she'd tried. Chey bristled inwardly but took care not to let it show where everyone else could see. Although if she was honest, the Queen was only being truthful. Chey had no business attending a private,
Royal family function.

“She is not my intended and each one of you know it. Now, who invited her?” Mattias's quiet fury could not be contained. A muscle twitched along his jaw.

“
I
invited her, brother. Your behavior lately is inexcusable,” Natalia spat, before turning a venomous stare on Chey. “And
you.
I have had about enough of this. I want her fired--”

“Enough!” Mattias's voice boomed through the elaborate, richly decorated dining hall.

Chey twitched in surprise. She'd never heard him raise his voice that way before. Real fear gripped her gut. Natalia would push to have her fired after this. Or maybe she would get her way before Chey could even escape the dining hall.

Oh
no.
This was a disaster.

“Mattias--” The King got no further before Mattias cut him off.

“No. This ridiculousness ends tonight. Viia, take your leave.” He snapped the order her way. When she didn't move fast enough for him, Mattias cracked another command. “
Now.
”

Openly flustered and upset, Viia set her wine glass down and stalked from the room.

Chey knew better than to make eye contact with her. Just then, she wanted to be at Sander's cabin, far from the tension and strife of being involved with the Royal family. His life was so much simpler.

Mattias had never done her wrong, however, so she stood resolutely at his side while he sent one girl from the room and faced down the rest.

Natalia burst into their native tongue, using a finger to point at Mattias with obvious accusation. Mattias, with steel control, replied in a way that convinced Chey he had the upper hand in the conversation.

A moment later, Natalia's face went white and she fled the hall in Viia's wake.

The Queen's lips pressed together, but she said no more.

“If anyone else intends to be rude to my guest, kindly take your leave,” Mattias said. He guided Chey to the table and pulled out a chair.

The last thing she wanted to do was sit down. If he expected her to eat after this, he was sadly mistaken. Still, she eased into the chair, waiting to see who else was going to get up and depart.

Paavo and Aurora sat down across from them.

There were four place settings between their seats and the King and Queen and Chey thanked her lucky stars that Mattias had the wherewithal to give everyone some distance.

“Nothing much has changed in our absence, I see,” the unnamed man said. He escorted his companion to a chair next to Aurora and sat down himself.

“Miss Sinclair, my youngest brother Prince Gunnar and his wife, Princess Krislin.” Mattias took his chair while making terse introductions.

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Chey said. She didn't offer her hand across the gilded table, accustomed already to the Ahtissari tradition as far as that was concerned.

Krislin, with her tawny hair and blue eyes, assessed Chey without the judgement so common with everyone else. And she smiled, nearly catching Chey off guard.

“Miss Sinclair,” Krislin said, inclining her head.

“Miss,” Gunnar added.

Paavo and Aurora tacked on quiet greetings and took their seat closer to the King and Queen.

Much to Chey's surprise, neither Aksel nor Helina retreated from the table. She soon learned it would have been much better if they had.

Over a first course of fine bullion and black rye bread, Helina asked, “What of your family line, Miss Sinclair? Where do they hail from?”

“My parents were both born in Washington. They met in college and got married after they graduated. Beyond that, I have more distant relatives that came from France, Italy, and Ireland, among others.” Chey struggled to sip spoonfuls of the broth without choking. She was sitting here talking to the Queen of Latvala like it was an every day occurrence.

“What of their occupations?” she asked next.

Chey squirmed in her seat. She didn't miss the look Mattias shot his mother.

“My father owned a small business in Seattle and my mother was a teacher.”

“And your grandparents?”

“Stone mason, automobile factory employee, seamstress and my other grandmother stayed at home to raise her child.” Thankful for the wine Mattias poured, she picked up her glass and had a much needed sip.

“A family of laborers, then,” Helina surmised.

“Yes.” Chey refused to show shame. More than half the people in the world were laborers of one sort or another. Not everyone could be Royalty.

“And how many--”

Mattias cut the Queen off with a quiet word in their native language.

“...how many brothers and sisters do you have?” Helina, apparently unintimidated by Mattias's interruption, finished asking her question.

The second course arrived. Platters of broiled pork, fish and salads were set near each person. Sliced potatoes in some sort of cheese sauce followed, along with slices of a different kind of bread Chey couldn't place.

“None, your Majesty. I'm an only child.” Chey remembered Mattias explaining how Viia had been chosen because of her extensive family line.

“What of your parents?”

“All but one had a brother or sister. My mother was an only child as well. My grandmother miscarried two before her.”

Silence fell over the table. The only sound for five minutes was the gentle clink of silver against china.

If you'd been petitioning for a place as one of the Prince's wives, Chey ol' girl, you just shot yourself in the foot.
Dry commentary ran through Chey's mind as she picked up one of three forks set on a separate napkin. She couldn't help that her grandmother had difficult pregnancies.

Mattias muttered something under his breath. After that, the rest of the meal passed in relative peace and quiet. Everyone concentrated on eating, which absolved the need to converse.

The food turned out to be well seasoned and excellently prepared. Chey hardly noticed. It was a distant appreciation in the effort to finish so that Mattias would escort her back to her room. If this was what it was like to be an intimate part of the Royal family, Chey wanted no part of it.

She felt sorry for them all, unable to even enjoy a meal without Natalia making mountains out of molehills.

Finally, after a course of dessert, the torture was over. Mattias excused them at the same time Paavo and Aurora pushed back their chairs. Chey bade them all good evening and breathed a sigh of relief once she and Mattias were in the hallway.

He said nothing. One hand low on her back, he guided her off the private floor to the stairs and down to a more suitable level. Chey wasn't sure what to say to all that and her urge to kill Mattias a little had passed. He couldn't have known that would happen.

Could he?

At her door, Mattias released her and maintained eye contact. “Open it.”

“...what?” Startled, Chey frowned. He wanted to come in? Did Mattias have the entirely wrong idea about what was going to happen tonight?

“Your door. Open it,” he repeated.

“Mattias, now look here--”

“I want to check and make sure no one is hanging around that shouldn't be.”

Of course he would have heard what happened by now. Feeling ridiculous that she'd suspected he wanted something else from her, Chey fished her key out and opened the door. He stepped in before her, stalking through the space with a critical examination of the most obvious hiding places.

“Is it always like that? Dinner?” she asked, setting her purse and keys on her dresser. While he stepped into the bathroom, Chey pulled the pins out of her hair and set them down. Running her fingers through the curls, she let them settle around her shoulders and toed off her heels.

He returned, hands clasped behind his back. Mattias swept a look over her, head to toe. “Not always. Sometimes it's worse, sometimes more tolerable.”

“Why did you bring me?”

“I wanted you to meet my brother and his wife, for one. And because you're a guest in this house. Guests should be treated like they matter, shouldn't they? The King and Queen entertain only those they have to or the ones who can do something for them.”

“So they do it when they can't get around it, you do it to soothe your conscious.” That was the conclusion Chey came to after hearing his reasons and watching his stern expression.

“I think it's a little more involved than soothing my conscious.”

“Is it?” she challenged.

Mattias stopped in front of her and stared down into her eyes. Without her shoes on, she had to lift her chin another inch to maintain easy contact.

“With you, it's more than just soothing my conscious,” he repeated.

“Why? Oh, because I don't fawn over you like other women? I'm not afraid to speak my mind?”

“Viia and Aurora will speak their mind, have no doubt. As you've seen already. You wear your cynicism like a badge; Viia uses it as a shield. There's a difference. Not to mention that you're generally more pleasant to be around on the whole.” He arched a brow and stepped away to the door without warning. Grasping the handle, he paused to add, “The photo session has been moved indoors tomorrow. We're expecting the snow to continue and increase overnight, making an outdoor shoot difficult at best. The entire family will be present this time, so make whatever adjustments you need to.”

Chey wasn't sure what to think about her cynical side. He cast a new light on it, however, leaving her puzzled and bemused. Only half paying attention to the details about work, she inclined her head.

“Okay. Where am I supposed to go?”

“The south solar. Urmas will show you if you can't find it on your own.” Mattias paused half in and half out of the room. “I would apologize for tonight, except this is who we really are. It's unfair to pretend otherwise.”

Chey opened her mouth but he was already gone. Crossing to the door, she closed and locked it in his wake.

What a complicated situation. What a complicated
family.

Chapter Fourteen

The south solar turned out to be an elaborate solarium with fully one whole wall and half the ceiling nothing but windows. Encompassing a view of the east woods, it was furnished with expensive leather and mahogany furniture, beautiful potted plants and collectible vases along with statues in marble wrought from the finest sculpting hands. Lacking the gilded décor of the King and Queen's private sitting room, the solarium made up for it with its tall backed tapestry chairs, tiki carved tables and large alabaster columns with complex designs engraved into the flaring top and bottom.

While members of the staff moved the furniture to her liking, she stared out the windows at the woods. Off limits to her by Sander's command, she wondered what made them different than the woods to the west. The longer she stared, the more she noticed smaller detail. That was how she came to see the thin wisp rising from the tops of the trees. Squinting against the gentle fall of snow, she tried to bring the sight into better focus.

“Miss Sinclair.”

The sharp snap of her name whipped Chey's head around. Urmas stood six feet behind her wearing a frown.

“Oh, I'm sorry. I was looking at the landscape and the snow.” She smiled and brushed a strand of hair away from her temple. For the session, she'd chosen another strict suit, this time with pants instead of a skirt, in black and white. It was austere and businesslike without being staid.

“Come away from the windows, please, and tell me if your arrangement suits.” Urmas gestured to the collection of chairs and divans Chey rearranged to accommodate the entire Royal family.

The quick look Urmas sent past her head to the window nearly caused her to turn and glance again. What was he looking at? Had he seen the wisp, too?

“It looks perfect, yes. Except maybe move that potted plant a little to the right. I don't want it looking like the fronds are sticking up out of the back of someone's head.” She guided an aid to move the pot. Despite the solarium setting, there was still an elegant, regal appearance to the room. One expected Royalty to reside here.

“Excellent. The family will be arriving shortly. You have your placements ready?” Urmas asked with a crisp tone.

“I'm ready when they are,” Chey assured him. She glanced at the liaison, curious at his abruptness.

He stepped away to double check everything was as need be.

In the interim, Chey pulled out her cell phone to check for messages. She was hoping for one from Sander. Stifling disappointment when there were none, she contemplated leaving one for him. Was that too forward? Maybe he was just that busy with work and hadn't had time to send her anything.

A flurry near the doors brought Chey's attention up. She slipped her phone into the pocket of her jacket as Paavo, Aurora, Gunnar and Krislin arrived. Much to Chey's surprise, the men wore military uniforms of royal blue and silver. The blue, deep and rich, was offset by silver buttons and a splash of red and gold medallions marking their rank on the chest. Silver tassels hung off shoulder boards and a belt at the waist supported a sheath with a sword nestled inside.

Chey understood enough to realize that the darker color of the uniforms indicated their Royal status as well as rank; the other military members wore dove gray and silver, with just the medals denoting their standing.