The Wrath of the King (3 page)

Feeling better, Chey stood instead of sat, preferring to stretch her legs and get the blood flowing. “What's going on?”

Gunnar pushed his hands into the pockets of his slacks. He wore a navy suit today, replete with a tie, cuff links and clean shaven face. Although his face was more slender and angular than Sander's, he looked most like his eldest brother than the rest of the boys.

“I had a talk about an hour ago with a few of the advisers. They came up from the family seat in the middle of the night. No one's been able to make contact with Mattias yet. That means they've decided to install Paavo as acting King until either Mattias returns or Sander wakes up.” Gunnar's grim expression suggested he wasn't happy with the decision.

Any remnants of sleep that had been lingering vanished at Gunnar's announcement. Chey snapped a look across the bed and met his eyes. Over the course of the summer, Paavo had come and gone from the family seat, laying low for the most part. He'd done nothing to instigate more action on Sander's part, and had even volunteered to take on a few more official duties than usual.

“Is that normal?” Chey asked.

“It's protocol if the next in line can't be found or contacted in a reasonable amount of time,” Gunnar replied.

“Well...where is Mattias? Nothing has happened to him, has it?”

“Probably not. Sometimes he shuts his phone off even when he knows he shouldn't.” Gunnar looked like he might say something else, then closed his lips before anything came out.

“Gunnar, isn't this going to cause a problem again? Like it did last time when Aksel suggested Paavo for the throne, then it didn't happen? Sander said the idea went to Paavo's head and that's why he made a move to divide the country and everything else.” Something about the whole thing made Chey uncomfortable. She couldn't believe that Paavo was responsible for the strike on Sander, but this is what Paavo had wanted all along. A shot at the throne. Gunnar was the youngest, unable to leapfrog Paavo to sit in his place.

“I hope not, Chey. Paavo hasn't seemed to be paying much attention to the throne and things these past months. He's been off tending to royal duties. Whenever we talk, he never brings any of it up, like he wants to be done with it,” Gunnar said.

“That's true. He talks a lot about other things these days and seems happier,” Krislin added.

Chey glanced back. Wynn and Krislin had come into the room some time during the conversation. “Then let's hope he doesn't decide he wants to fight for the throne during all this.”

“As much as I don't want to leave Sander, I think I should go back to the family seat,” Gunnar said.

“I think that's a wise idea. Will you call me and keep me updated? I'm not leaving Sander until he wakes up.” Chey would be hard pressed to even leave a nurse alone with him at the moment.

“I'll stay here and give you breaks when you need them,” Krislin said.

“You got it, Chey. It's only a matter of time until Mattias checks in. I'll monitor things until then.” Gunnar gave Sander's arm a squeeze, then said, “Hang in there, Dare. Wake up, you hear me?” Gunnar stepped away from the bed, kissed Krislin on the cheek, then departed the room.

Chey watched him go, then nodded once at Krislin for her offer. She trusted her more than she trusted anyone else to watch over Sander when Chey had no choice but to use the restroom or take a quick shower.

“I was about to go order breakfast. Do you want something, Chey?” Krislin asked.

“Just toast, thanks.” Chey didn't think she could stomach more than that. “And maybe some orange juice.”

“I'll be back in a little bit.” Krislin stepped out into the hall and engaged one of the nurses.

“What can I do, Chey? I'll sit here with Sander if you want to take a shower. Your clothes arrived overnight and are hanging in the closet.” Wynn picked up an empty duffel bag against the wall and moved it over toward a clinical looking dresser where she placed it into a bottom drawer. “There are a few casual maternity pants and shirts in here, too, already folded.”

“Actually, Wynn, I want you to do something else.” Chey waited until her best friend came close to whisper. “Get Mattias's number from Krislin and call his cell every half an hour. In the meantime, go back to the family seat and keep an eye on things for me, will you? I'd like to know what's going on in our absence.”

Wynn looked surprised. “Sure. You know I'll be discreet.”

“Excellent. Call me in the evenings, or if anything unusual crops up, okay? I suspect it might be a waste of time on your part, but I'll feel better with someone on watch.” Chey wouldn't ask anyone else to do this except Wynn, and only then because they'd been friends for so long.

“Just promise me you'll take breaks to walk and stretch and rest,” Wynn said. “I know you. You'll obsess until you push yourself into labor.”

“I'll do what I can, when I can.” That was the best promise Chey could make. After Wynn squeezed her hand, Chey watched the woman make her way into the hall and team up with Krislin.

Turning back to Sander, Chey pulled up her chair and sat down. Stroking the tips of her fingers along his arm, she willed him to wake up. Time, she thought, was not on their side.

. . .

Paavo watched the discomfort of three councilmen rise to almost palpable levels. Riding in the back of a limousine en route to the family seat, there was no where for the men to escape. Each had been compromised by blackmail and bribery, made to bend to Paavo's will through no choice of their own.

“So we're positive that when we take this to our meeting tomorrow, we'll meet no resistance, correct?” Paavo asked. He wanted the councilmen to say it out loud. Wanted them to admit the majority would vote his way.

“Yes,” one member said, not meeting Paavo's eyes. “Everyone that needs to be on board, is on board.”

“The others won't appreciate it and will raise protest,” another added.

“I'm not worried about the 'others'. With the majority, there's nothing they can do to overturn the decision. Which is why it's critical we get this right the first time.” Paavo believed his threats and manipulation would hold. Judging by the looks on the council member's faces, although they didn't like the circumstances, they wouldn't risk going to jail. Or risk the safety of their family.

“They will go your way,” the third man said. His fingers were a white-knuckled knot in his lap.

“Excellent. Is there anything else I should know before we arrive?” Paavo watched the family seat rise tall through the window of the limo. He felt a distinct sense of satisfaction and
rightness
about his actions. This was the path forward to regaining control of his country.

“Some of the other members are concerned about what will happen should the King come out of the coma. To attempt a coup is treason, and the King has never been soft on traitors.”

Paavo didn't bother to look back at the men sitting across from him. “You should be more worried about what your
new
King will do once I have wrested the throne away from Dare. Many changes are about to take place, and you can either be a part of it, lending your full support, or skulk under the shadow of a man whose time as ruler is done. One way or another, gentlemen, I
am
stepping up in my father's place. There is no room for second guesses or weakness. If you're that afraid, then let's be done with the ruse and get on with the business of following through with the conditions—or should I say repercussions—of not siding with the proper heir to the throne.”

Silence was Paavo's only answer.

. . .

By eight that evening, Wynn was no closer to learning anything new than when she'd arrived back at the Ahtissari family seat. The whispers being passed from mouth to ear remained at the edge of her perception, something sensed more than heard or seen. She knew people were talking, could tell by a few expressions of the guard's faces and staff that concern for the King was prevalent on everyone's mind. Trying to glean any deeper detail had proven futile thus far.

Aware that Paavo had arrived at the castle earlier in the day, Wynn made several passes along the lower hallways near the conference rooms, hoping to hear snippets of conversation from assistants of the councilmen. Nothing concrete presented itself.

Exhausting all available avenues, Wynn ascended to the second floor, disgusted at her lack of information. She didn't want to call Chey without
something.

“Lost?” a masculine voice said behind her.

Wynn twisted a look over her shoulder. There stood Paavo, his dark suit rakishly askew, three buttons open on the white shirt beneath. He had his hands in his pockets, the coat caught on his wrists. She'd seen him from afar several times; this was the first up close and personal. Unsure what to think, she pivoted enough to face him.

“Actually, no. I have a room here. We haven't officially met yet. I'm Wynn Hudson.” She extended her hand while he gave her a quick once over. The shirt she wore had long sleeves and a collar that poked up past a faux argyle sweater sewn into the design. Tails of the shirt hung loose over a pair of jeans with heavy signs of wear on the thighs and in the creases near her hips. Three inch platform shoes jutted her modest height up enough that she didn't have to crane her neck, at least, to maintain eye contact.

He withdrew a hand and clasped hers, engulfing her slender fingers and palm in his own. Instead of shake, he swiftly brought her knuckles to his mouth where he brushed the faintest kiss. A moment later, he relinquished the hold. “Miss Hudson, Prince Paavo. But then, you knew that.”

Wynn regarded the Prince while his lips touched down on her skin. Any other time, she would have engaged in a wealth of shameless flirting. Tonight, she merely smiled a small smile and reeled her hand back once he was done. Heat lingered on her flesh from the warmth of his mouth.

“Yes, I did. Pleased to finally meet you properly,” she said.

“You as well.” His expression shifted into one of concern. “Any recent news from Chey about Dare? I'd really like to visit him in the hospital once these meetings are over.”

Caught off guard by his apparent sincerity, Wynn reminded herself that Paavo had caused quite a few problems before the wedding. “I haven't spoken with her in several hours. I expect things are holding steady or she would have called me.”

“Good. I've set a panel to the task of finding out just what happened out on that road. With any luck, they'll have some answers in the next day or two.”

Wynn realized she had a prime opportunity to possibly learn more right now than at any other time today. She cocked her chin to the side. “I hope you find something out, too. It seems you all need to be extra careful in the meantime, in case someone is targeting the whole family. Right?”

“Just so, Miss Hudson.” He paused, looking down the hall before finding her eyes again. “I was about to take a few moments for dinner. Care to join me?”

Wynn pushed her hands over her hips, flattening the tails of the shirt against the jeans. Seeing an opportunity to extend her good fortune, she inclined her head. “Yes, I will. Thanks. Where to?”

He closed the small distance between them and set a hand low on her back. “This way. We'll use the parlor on the upper floor. You're allowed to be there as long as you're with me.”

Wynn breathed in the subtle scent of his cologne while he escorted her to the next set of stairs. She thought ahead to what other questions she might ask once they were seated. Guards at the base snapped to attention as they passed by and headed up.

Entering the parlor, she took in the lavish décor with a glance and allowed Paavo to guide her to a table next to tall windows. Whispering her gratitude after he held her chair, she scooted it closer by a few inches and put her attention on him when he sat opposite. Wynn discovered that Paavo had a rather direct way of staring that made her think he already expected her questions. A silly notion.

“What would you like? They can make almost anything you desire.” Paavo pulled out a cell phone and held it at the ready.

“I think a chicken salad for me, please.” Something light, uncomplicated. Wynn didn't want to weigh herself down this late with a heavy meal.

Paavo put in a call, speaking quick and in his own language.

Wynn regarded the Prince while he was preoccupied ordering, trying to take the measure of the man. Wondering over the news that he had been appointed the sitting King while Sander fought for his life in another city. Wondering, too, if the temporary title would go to his head again as Chey feared it might. Wynn didn't know him well enough to know if his current actions and behavior were normal or driven by the importance of his newfound position. Of all the brothers, Paavo reminded Wynn of Mattias the most. The brothers were built similar, with Paavo standing a shade shorter than his sibling. Paavo's eyes, green instead of dark, were more secretive than Mattias's. Maybe that was fanciful thinking.

“All right. It'll be here in a few minutes.” Paavo set his phone on the table and got comfortable in his seat. After he stretched his legs beneath the table, he said, “Why are you staying here instead of Kallaster?”

Wynn tore her gaze off the exposed hollow of his throat. She chided herself in silence and promised herself she would stay on track. If she didn't, Paavo might trip her up with his questions.

“Honestly, I wanted to be closer to the information. Everyone else is here right now, so I thought it best to be where they were.” It wasn't far from the truth. Wynn wouldn't tell him Chey had sent her back to be her eyes and ears.

“What information are you seeking?” he asked.

“Well, for starters, I wanted to know the second Mattias came back. He'll be taking over, won't he, until Sander wakes up?” Wynn played innocent, as if she hadn't heard any rumors regarding Paavo. His eyes narrowed and the corner of his mouth twitched with something like humor. Wynn didn't know how else to interpret it.

“I guess news doesn't travel as fast as I thought it did,” Paavo said. “
I
have been appointed the sitting King.”