The Wrath of the King (4 page)

Wynn arched her eyebrows and widened her eyes. “
What?
Oh, I hadn't heard. My apologies, your Majesty. I just assumed since Mattias is next in line--”

“It's Paavo in private, hm?” Paavo said, interrupting her with his quiet request. “And he is—under normal circumstances. But these are hardly normal, and with Mattias unable to be located, the duty falls to me.”

Wynn inclined her head, acknowledging his name preference at least while they were behind closed doors. “It must be a lot of pressure, especially with the attack on Sander. Aren't you worried the same thing might happen to you or Mattias?”

“One can't rule a country in fear. All of us are aware of the possible danger. Nothing like this has ever happened on our own soil, however, and extra attention needs to be paid.”

“Has anyone hinted at responsibility? A random, unhappy group of citizens, or foreigners?” she asked, watching his expression closely. Wynn couldn't detect anything other than concern on his features. If he'd heard who might be behind the attack, he hid the knowledge well. Perhaps Paavo really had changed from the man who once wanted to divide the country.

“No one so far. I don't think anyone will, either. At least not publicly,” he said.

“Why not?”

“Because this was an attempted assassination. The international community will frown on it and likely blackball the perpetrator. This is a different situation than a blatant terrorist attack, where they follow through with threats and make no bones about who's doing it. Whoever did this didn't want to be discovered, I think.”

“What makes you say that? And...well. What's the motivation? Why would someone want to do that without taking credit? It doesn't serve a purpose, does it?” Wynn asked.

“It does if the perpetrator promised retribution. Or wanted something Dare didn't give. Who knows what kind of deals he made that he broke or went back on. Everyone is aware that he refused to honor the contract between the Afshar King and our father. If he backed out on that one so easily, then he could have done the same to someone who had the ways and means to retaliate,” Paavo said.

“By the same token, I understand
you
also wouldn't let Natalia be married off per contract, so wouldn't that put you in the same boat?” Wynn experienced a tingle along her skin at the blunt question she put to Paavo. It was honest, though, and she knew Paavo had told Bashir the wedding wouldn't happen. In her mind, that put Paavo on equal footing with Sander.

Paavo rumbled a quiet laugh and held her gaze. His was sharp, incisive. “I would have found a way to rectify the situation, given the Crown Prince something else he wanted as much as a Princess bride. Dare just shut the man down, shut him out. That's no way to do business.”

Wynn opened her mouth to argue that Sander
had
attempted to work around the wedding part, but Bashir's people hadn't gone for it. What came out instead was, “Oh, I see. I wasn't aware.”

“Excuse me, your Highness?”

Wynn glanced at the door when the waitstaff appeared pushing a cart.

“Come in.” Paavo waited through the delivery of the food, waited until he'd had a long drink from his wine glass and the exit of the waiter before he picked up conversation with Wynn. “You're very interested in royal happenings.”

Wynn noted Paavo's plate contained some sort of grilled fish and vegetables. Picking up a fork, she sorted the chicken over her salad and met Paavo's gaze across the table at his direct comment. She smiled and didn't deny it. “Chey will tell you I'm a curious sort. I can't help it. Besides, I live here now. I think it's prudent to know what's going on in my own backyard, so to speak. Don't you?”

“Nothing wrong with a little healthy curiosity,” he replied, eyeing her grin before digging into his meal.

Wynn dropped her gaze when he looked at her mouth like that and concentrated on her salad. For several minutes, she kept herself busy with chewing and sipping water—she'd declined wine when he offered. Then, he surprised her with another question.

“You should come work for me, Miss Hudson. Imagine how well you could appease your curiosity then.”

Wynn sat her fork down, studying his expression for signs of jest or teasing. She found none. “Pardon?”

“I
said,
you should come work for me,” he repeated.

“...doing what?” Flabbergasted, Wynn wasn't sure what to say. Her mind buzzed through options and situations, looking for danger signs or opportunities. It was true she meant to get a job before all her savings ran out, but working for Paavo? That was definitely something she hadn't considered. Yet he was right; it would put her much closer to the action.

“My personal assistant. Something like what Hanna is to Chey. The pay is excellent.” He smiled again, a dimple creasing his cheek.

Wynn had another bite of salad, contemplating the offer. It felt a little like going behind Chey's back, which was an absurd notion. Chey had
asked
her to be her eyes and ears—what better place to do so than as Paavo's assistant?

She glanced at his dimples and reached for her water. After a long drink, she said, “I would be happy to become your assistant. When do I start?”

Chapter Four

On the 'royal' floor of the family seat, Paavo stared out a window at the end of a main hallway. Drink in hand, he contemplated dinner with Wynn, among other things, while studying the dark landscape over which
he
now ruled.

If he had to guess, the petite, dark haired woman who was Chey's best friend remained at Ahtissari castle to watch over things. There had been just enough wariness in her eyes and expression to let him know Wynn wasn't sure what to think of him. Keeping her close would allow him to keep track of Chey in a roundabout manner, something he desired to do as his plans went forward. Tomorrow marked his official rise to power once the meeting took place, and after, when he set his plans in motion, things promised to get tense around the castle.

“So, I hear you're taking over until Mattias shows or Sander wakes up,” Gunnar said.

Paavo swiveled a look away from the window. Gunnar stood at his flank, a pensive expression on his face.

“You know the protocol as well as I do, little brother. Tell me how Dare is. I'd like to go see him as soon as the meetings are over tomorrow.” Paavo took a drink, watching Gunnar process the truth of his words.

“He's holding his own. I think he'll wake up soon,” Gunnar replied. He stood next to Paavo and looked out the window.

“Is that just wishful thinking, or did the doctors indicate there was progress?” Paavo asked. He swallowed a hiss of discontent at the latter thought. He needed a few days in charge to get things done.

“The doctors say there is no change so far. But in my mind, if that blast didn't kill him, then he'll recover.”

“You always were the optimist of the bunch, Gunnar. I'm sure he'll recover and be back to himself in no time. He's too stubborn to die.”

“I didn't expect you to sound hopeful that Dare would wake up,” Gunnar said. He slanted a look over at Paavo's profile.

Paavo didn't immediately meet Gunnar's eyes, even though he felt his brother's gaze. He affected a concerned mask, brows furrowed. “Of course I'm hopeful he'll wake up. I might think things should work one way or another in this country, but I don't wish death on anyone.”

“He's a good man. A good
King.”
Gunnar switched his gaze out the window again.

Inwardly, Paavo seethed that his sibling was so taken in by Dare. That kind of blind loyalty was only deserving when a man earned it and as far as he was concerned, Dare hadn't earned it at all. He didn't understand why Gunnar would throw away the chance to rule his own territory, either, though perhaps there was still a chance to change Gunnar's mind.

“He's done his duty by the country, by the people. Now we just have to wait until he comes around,” Paavo said, refusing to heap too much praise on Dare. “How is Chey holding up? This can't be easy on her this close to delivery.”

“She's doing the best she can, under the circumstances,” Gunnar replied.

“That doesn't tell me much.”

“She's tenacious, stubborn, strong willed. And fearful for his well being. Krislin stayed behind to give her bathroom and shower breaks.”

“How thoughtful of Krislin.” Paavo thinned his lips and took a drink. The burn of alcohol helped distract from the annoyance he experienced. It seemed all his siblings and their partners would do just about anything for the King and his Queen.

“I thought so. Chey needs relief, no matter how strong she thinks she is, and she trusts Kris.”

Paavo felt the weight of Gunnar's stare again, and wondered what was going on in his brother's mind. He affected a sorrowful expression then and gave the remnants of his drink a swirl. “Why don't we go see him tomorrow? Together. Maybe he'll wake up while we're there.”

“All right. I'll see you after the meetings.” Gunnar paused, like he might say more, then pivoted away from the window.

Paavo turned his head to watch his brother go, then finished off his drink.

Tomorrow and the official meeting to install him as sitting King couldn't come soon enough.

. . .

“Chey? It's Wynn.”

“I was wondering when you'd call,” Chey said.

“It's been an interesting day and this was the first time I could call you without ears listening in. How's Sander?” Wynn paced her temporary bedroom, fiddling with a length of her hair. She wasn't sure why she was so nervous to tell Chey about her conversation with Paavo.

“No change. He's still out.” Exhaustion and worry threaded through Chey's reply.

“I'm sorry. I know you were hoping he'd wake up today. It's still early though. He might need another day to recover.”

“The sooner the better,” Chey said. “What was interesting about your day?”

“Well. I didn't find anything out all morning and afternoon. It's like people are keeping a tight lid on every bit of gossip and news. However, I bumped into Paavo later on and he invited me to dinner.” Wynn braced herself for a bad reaction from Chey. Paavo hadn't earned any respect from Chey after the stunt he'd pulled before the wedding. For a few moments, all she heard was silence down the line.

“Did you go?” Chey asked.

“After learning nothing all day, I decided who better to glean information from than Paavo himself? So I went. He offered me a job as his assistant and I took it. Before you explode—let me explain. Being that close to him will allow me to see more of his correspondence and know when or where he has meetings, maybe even with who. I saw it as an opportunity.” Wynn held her breath and hoped Chey would understand what she was trying to do. Once again, a stretch of silence preceded Chey's reply.

“Wow. I'm not sure what to say. I can't believe he offered
you
a job, of all people. I guess you're right, though. You should be able to stay on top of what the council is doing and what decisions they're making.” Chey paused, then added, “Oh, and be aware that they like to tap phones. Yours might not be right now, but I'm pretty sure someone will start listening to everything you say.”

“I'll find another way to communicate. But I wanted you to know
why
I'm doing this. There isn't a better place, as far as I can see, to be your eyes and ears.” Wynn exhaled in relief. Chey didn't sound angry or even annoyed. She suspected the woman's concern over Sander had a lot to do with her distraction.

“Just be careful, all right? Whoever is responsible is still at large and I don't think anyone can be sure they won't strike again. Have you heard anything from Mattias?”

“I'll be careful, you can count on it. No, I can't get through and he hasn't called back. No one else has heard from him either, that I can tell. He's off the grid,” Wynn said.

“Okay. Keep trying. The sooner he gets back, the better I'll feel. When do you start work?”

“Tomorrow morning. I'm going to get some sleep so I can be up early and get started. Somehow, I'll get ahold of you and check in. Hopefully without a trace.”

“All right, Wynn. Talk to you tomorrow.”

“Night, Chey. You're both in my thoughts.” Wynn severed the call. She stared down at the cell phone, tapping the side with a finger. Thoughtful.

Finally, she set it down and went to the closet, prepared to choose an outfit for her first day at work. All the while, she revisited the dinner with Paavo. Remembering the dimple in his cheek, the striking color of his eyes. The self-assured way he lounged while they talked. She tried to analyze his actions, his interest, his motives in an effort to take her mind off the physical attributes that continued to distract her.

. . .

Chey rubbed her forehead with her fingertips. The phone call from Wynn threatened to make the headache she'd been dealing with all day worse.

He offered me a job as his assistant, and I took it.
Chey saw all sorts of disasters happening from the situation, not the least of Wynn putting herself in a dangerous spot being so close to Paavo. If someone
was
trying to take out the royal family, that put Wynn right smack in the crosshairs. She was right about one thing, though; gathering information should be a lot easier when she was actually
in
the lion's den rather than sniffing around outside.

Folding her arms on the side of Sander's bed, Chey stared at his face, willing him to wake up. Earlier in the day, she'd put her foot down with a few of the nurses, refusing to allow anyone to sponge him clean except herself. Chey had taken the lead, meticulously washing him head to toe. It was quite a job lifting legs that were dead weight, but she wouldn't have it any other way. She'd even managed to wash his hair, working around the bandages to get any remaining dried blood out. Chey thought maybe the manipulation of his limbs would help pull him out of the coma.

Now it was night time, and still, no change. No movement, no flicker of his eyelids. Refusing to be disheartened, she told herself tomorrow was a new day with new opportunities.