The more we are together, the more I realize I am a very lucky man.
* * *
Chey thought nothing of grabbing up a snow shovel to help the other employees clear the front path to the castle doors, a move which drew a few shocked looks from the maids and groundsmen. Who am I to tell her she can’t do it? This is a part of who she is and how she grew up. I have also caught her in the kitchen, laughing with the chefs while kneading bread with her hands. Her first loaf came out hard as stone, but we won’t talk about that. She’ll master it as she masters everything else. She just needs a little time.
* * *
How much she gets before our secret is out is anyone’s guess.
* * *
Sander
* * *
Togetherness
* * *
My brother is a good man. Mattias arranged the use of our private jet to Estonia under the guise of a business trip. Chey and I, dressed down with only two guards to accompany us, used the jet in his stead. We left the country entirely so that I could take Chey shopping in a small town where few people would recognize us.
* * *
Although she has received packages from Seattle, Chey needs clothes fitting for a Latvalan winter. It is colder here than Seattle, and remains cold longer. She was hesitant to buy too many things, or expensive things, and I did not push her in the latter. But I did encourage her to pick up whatever she needed because I wasn’t sure when I could sneak us both out of the country together again. We have months left of frigid temperatures, and I think that convinced her to stock up. She bought heavier outwear, jackets, boots, gloves, and a few fancier dresses at my request.
* * *
There was another reason I needed to go to Estonia, a reason Chey will not discover for another week.
* * *
I have made plans no one knows about, not even Mattias.
* * *
If all goes as I hope, this will be a Christmas to remember.
* * *
Sander
* * *
Say Yes
* * *
I didn’t wear a suit or a tuxedo for this, but my military uniform. All the pleats were pressed and the silver shined. I waited for her in the dining hall, pacing beside the long table that seats twenty but was only set for two. Food wasn’t on my mind.
* * *
Chey was.
* * *
She appeared not long after I arrived, resplendent in an elegant red dress. The color goes well with her dark hair and blue eyes. She set a gift on the table, her expression suddenly concerned and worried. I knew she thought I was about to announce my departure for military duty or some other royal engagement. But that wasn’t it at all. I guided her back into the foyer, which I’d cleared of all castle personnel, and paused near the giant Christmas tree. It’s five days before the holiday, a perfect time to back up my words of love and talk of the future.
* * *
The look on her face when I went down on one knee was priceless. Confusion turned to shock, which then turned to joy.
* * *
I asked her to be my wife, and she said yes.
* * *
This has not been a long courtship, yet I feel the rightness of us down deep in my gut. I’ve never believed in fate or destiny or soul mates, but there is something between Chey and I that I cannot deny. It’s strange to write about, stranger to accept, but somehow I know Chey is the only one, the best one, for me.
* * *
We’ll deal with the consequences of our engagement at a later date. I don’t want to think about Aksel or Helina or arguments and threats until after the new year.
* * *
I just want a few unfettered weeks to enjoy my new bride-to-be.
* * *
Sander
Chapter Twenty
Calm And (almost) Content
Gift giving was a private, intimate affair between myself and Chey. We sat on my bed, surrounded by presents, and ate a leisurely breakfast before shredding paper. Chey surprised me with a few portraits she’d done of me when I wasn’t aware she was around with a camera in hand, as well as a new camera of my own. She promised to teach me tips and tricks when I told her I knew little to nothing of photography, to which I happily agreed. Anything to spend more time outdoors with her, to see another side of her personality. We agreed to another canoe trip as well as visits to old ruins on the mainland.
I bought her diamonds and jewels. But I also bought her a new mare (she was so excited she squealed for five minutes straight), new tack and riding outfits, and several gowns for state dinners she will eventually be required to attend.
All this has brought to my attention that I need to select a date to confront Aksel and Helina about Chey’s presence in Latvala. I’ve put it off, let things cool down.
But I can’t wait forever. It’s shocking, actually, that word hasn’t already gotten back to the mainland. I prefer to be on top of the announcement rather than have Father show up at Kallaster with murder in his eyes.
So I’ve decided it will happen not long after we ring in the new year. Chey and I will travel to the family seat together and I will inform my parents that Chey is attending a gala in Dubai with me. There won’t be any way to hide Chey’s presence there and I refuse to go without her. This gala has been on the books for months; I’m going, and so is she. While I’m ready to announce my courtship of Chey, we have agreed to abstain from mentioning our engagement. It’s not the right time. Not until we get a better grip on Aksel and Helina’s reaction.
I want to introduce Chey to the rest of royal society slowly, without the frenzy that will undoubtedly follow an engagement announcement. We’ll stick to the courtship story until we’re ready to take the next step.
Although I have made the decision to expose Chey’s presence, I’m more than a little wary of the outcome. I’ve already arranged for extra protection at Kallaster and for Chey. She won’t be traveling anywhere alone, not even on the island. At least not for a while. She understands the reasons for it, of course, and didn’t balk or put up a fight.
There is more to write, but for now I have business to attend.
Sander
* * *
Revelations
Only a fool would have had high hopes for the outcome of my meeting with the king and queen, and I am no fool. But even I could not have imagined the sheer contempt with which Aksel greeted the news of Chey’s presence in our homeland, nor his sudden threat of military involvement. He actually suggested that Chey should be arrested and staunchly informed me that I could not take on our entire defense apparatus alone.
Has my father lost his mind?
Chey stiffened beside me and I knew she was worried that she would wind up back in the dungeon—a reasonable assumption since Aksel has put her there before. Not just put her there, but threatened her life in the process.
I was so livid at the implication that I threw down a gauntlet of my own: I told Aksel that should he touch a hair on Chey’s head, I would invoke an heir’s first right and yank the throne out from beneath him by force. The addendum to our laws, which allows the official heir to challenge a sitting king’s mental health, has never been actively used in our courts. I threatened him on the grounds of impairment and will absolutely resort to that tactic if I have no other choice. It is beyond risky and might drag out in court for months, giving Aksel time to retaliate first.
Should the news of this kind of friction between king and heir break worldwide, it could put the safety of Latvala in jeopardy. There are other countries who would love nothing more than to invade our shores and take control of the kingdom during a time of perceived weakness.
This escalation can only end badly.
Aksel did not take kindly to my threat—I believe he’d forgotten about that addendum until I mentioned it—and pointed his shaky finger at me while spouting something about what befalls you from here is your doing.
I have no idea what he means by that. Perhaps he was
warning me of what might happen to Latvala if I have him dethroned but I think it goes deeper than that. It could be that I am correct and Aksel is not of sound mind to rule this country any longer. I plan to find Mattias straight away and discuss the situation with him before we leave for Dubai. I know he backs me over our father, and I can trust him to provide honest counsel.
I will need a staunch ally if we wind up in court.
Sander
* * *
Behind Closed Doors
I spent hours behind closed doors with Mattias this evening, filling him in on the confrontation with Aksel. Although my brother hides his reactions well, I sensed his surprise when I mentioned the military and my ensuing threat to invoke an heir’s first right.
We both agreed on two things: that the situation between Aksel and me has reached dangerous levels, and also that Aksel must realize that he cannot best me in court. Not with the evidence Mattias and I have stacked against him. We discussed at length what Aksel might or might not do, and it’s telling that both of us have doubts over Aksel’s course of action.
Should Aksel abduct Chey or, God forbid, kill her, he knows I will not stop until I have dethroned him. He understands his own actions have put his rule in jeopardy, which may or may not stay his hand. My leverage over my father could be the one thing that makes him back down.
The longer Mattias and I discussed it, the more we agreed it’s better to allow Aksel time to hang himself. Rather than me going straight to court and filing paperwork, which could prompt Aksel to do any number of rash things, we have decided to sit back and wait for our father to make his own fatal mistakes (such as using the military to arrest or subdue me).
There is the slight possibility of a de-escalation. Aksel was openly rattled at the idea of going to court, and Mattias and I are hoping that will be enough to make him back off.
A smart king, one not ruled by his emotions, would take all the pieces into consideration and desist. Better to keep control of the throne than to lose it over a fit of fury.
And so the games go on.
Today it is this move. Tomorrow we’ll make another.
The never-ending battle between father and son continues.
Sander
Chapter Twenty-One
The Red Line
* * *
Seeing Dubai through Chey’s eyes was almost as enlightening as it was when she first set foot in Kallaster Castle. She marveled over the glittering skyscrapers and the ultramodern feel to the city streets. At one point she asked me when all this would become normal for her, as it has for me. It was an eye-opening question. I take the private jets, limousines, and regal hotels for granted. When I look at Dubai, I see the same things she sees, yet I do not experience the same sense of wonderment nor do I catch my breath in awe. I have been around the decadence all my life; nothing much surprises me anymore. A part of me hopes Chey never becomes indifferent to the things she finds so amazing now. I’m constantly charmed by her reactions and I don’t want it to end anytime soon. It’s refreshing to be with someone who doesn’t act bored in this environment, like so many other women I’ve known. I guess there comes a point that when you’ve seen it all and done it all, what used to be spectacular is nothing more than commonplace.
* * *
I took her shopping in the most upscale shops available and watched while she gasped over prices and discreetly hung up clothing as if burned by merely touching the material once she saw the price tag. She’s so unique that way and I doubt I’ll ever tire of her apparent need to find sales. I can only imagine how she’ll do tonight at the gala, being immersed with women who have such a jaded view of the world.
* * *
Maybe Chey will breathe new life into the perpetually disillusioned masses.
* * *
– S
* * *
The Long Game
* * *
I need to vent, but I’m not sure this journal entry will be enough of a relief valve.
* * *
My father—
* * *
My father.
* * *
I had to walk away and come back. I’m still not sure I can do this. My hand is shaking. Every time I try to write about what happened in Dubai, all the words evaporate into white noise. I can’t think, can’t focus. Fury is not a strong enough word to express how I feel.
* * *
Fury is too gentle, too kind.
* * *
This is what a volcano must be like before it blows.
* * *
Pent-up, aggressive, boiling beneath the surface. I am all of that. More.
* * *
Aksel, my father, has pushed me too far.
* * *
He . . .
* * *
Let me try again.
* * *
I escorted Chey to the gala. We mingled, talked with society’s elite, drank ridiculously expensive wine. Chey charmed the world-weary ladies at a table and I talked business with a few acquaintances from foreign lands.
* * *
Typical gala fare.
* * *
We left early and took an elevator up to the penthouse.
* * *
As the doors to the carriage opened, armed men stormed in, taking us all by surprise. My security had no time to draw weapons of their own. It was a bare-knuckled brawl (I didn’t care that they had weapons, I attacked anyway) that we had no chance of winning.
* * *
For a few seconds, I thought for sure the men would shoot Chey where she stood. I thought this was all about that, about taking Chey out of the equation. But they didn’t. Instead they dragged her and me into a suite and threw us down into chairs.
* * *
The leader of the group informed me that I would be flown back to Latvala immediately for a meeting with the king, where I would then be ordered into exile. If I did not comply, the man promised to sell Chey into a human trafficking ring and she would never be seen again. I know the trafficking rings to be real, the victims brought in from all manner of life to be sold off like cattle to the highest bidder. I had no choice in the matter, the man said. It was as good as done if I did not obey the command.
* * *
So my father had decided to strip me of my title, my belongings, my income, and send me to live as a commoner in a distant country.
* * *
I refused to agree to any of it. Before things could take another turn toward violence, Mattias appeared from a bedroom. He pretended to be one of the men on Aksel’s side but I knew better. Mattias had infiltrated them somehow and his presence meant my escape. I played along because I had to. There was no alternative without giving Mattias away.
* * *
Words cannot express how hard it was for me to leave Chey behind when I exited the suite, presumably en route to the plane that would take me back to Latvala. Mattias’s men intercepted me well before we ever left the grounds of the hotel and spirited me across town to another hotel, where I was promised a reunion with Chey and Mattias shortly. Those were some of the longest minutes of my life. I worried every second that the deal would go bad, or someone would figure out Mattias’s duplicity and successfully send Chey into the Dubai underground.
* * *
My brother and Chey arrived not too long after that. Chey was banged up from a car accident but she was alive, and I was beyond relieved to see her. She proved to be as tough as I’ve known her to be, requiring no special treatment—although she wanted answers.
* * *
Didn’t we all?
* * *
Mattias explained that he had accidentally overheard Aksel making his nefarious plans for Dubai, and inserted himself into the lineup behind my father’s back. Mattias had planned to make it seem as if he’d helped orchestrate my capture and Chey’s demise because of his interest in the throne, when his real objective was to save Chey and me both before returning to father’s side. He hoped to glean more information by prete
nding to be as malicious as Aksel.
* * *
This is where we are now, on our way back to Latvala. Chey is with us. Mattias has a safe place to hide her while I deal with Aksel. Once we clear up the mess, we’ll retrieve Chey and get back to some sort of normalcy.
* * *
Though whatever amounts to normalcy these days has drastically changed from what it used to be.
* * *
I do know one thing: Father will not force me into exile.
* * *
Of that I can be sure.
* * *
Sander
Memoirs of a King Page 6
