Memoirs of a King Page 2

  * * *

  I cannot recall a time I’ve enjoyed myself so much.

  * * *

  And that wasn’t the end to our day. Not by half. We canoed to the put-in point and hopped in the truck I’d arranged to have waiting. There was no denying the spark between us, no getting around the flirtation that was slowly turning into something more.

  * * *

  We wound up back at the cabin and she set fire to my blood. I would have kept her here all night except she had some sort of event to attend (I didn’t ask, and she didn’t say) and left a few hours ago. I wonder what Chey’s reaction will be when she finds out she’s been spending time with the future king of Latvala.

  * * *

  I’m troubled by her being at the castle, possibly in harm’s way. I’ll have to trust the extra security I’ve ordered will do their jobs well.

  * * *

  Sander

  Chapter Three

  An Angel in a Devilish Position

  * * *

  She’s sleeping, I’m writing. Chey returned to the cabin tonight, much later than I would have expected. I drove up and found the truck she’d borrowed from me earlier sitting in the clearing without her in it. My heart started to pound until she burst from the woods where she’d been hiding. She looked terrified. Someone left tabloid photos of her and Mattias scattered on her bed while she was at the event with my brother. The security team I arranged had been called away to attend other duties and hadn’t had time to install cameras in Chey’s room. So there is no video proof of the intruder, which infuriates me more than I want to admit. Not only that, but without my presence at the castle, higher management can manipulate the security however they see fit, especially with foreign dignitaries in town. Which means I can attach guards to Chey only to have them pulled off when necessary.

  * * *

  I’m going to have to blow my cover soon. There’s no way around it.

  * * *

  Even if security catches the culprit in the act, I can’t hide who I am forever. I’ve just wanted these few days to be myself without all the trappings that come with the title of heir. I’ve wanted to see where this thing might go between Chey and I, and I like what I feel so far. She’s special, different, unlike the women I’m typically exposed to. She doesn’t care that I’m the ‘head of security’ and not a prince (or so she thinks). When she looks into my eyes there’s no sign of manipulation, deceit, or cold calculation. There’s only warmth, candid humor, blunt desire.

  * * *

  If I’m truthful with myself, I hate to lose this innocence. I’ve grown addicted to just being me around her, to experiencing what it’s like to meet someone and have an instant connection not based on money or position. Once I explain who I really am, all that will be gone. For all I know, she might be gone, too. I can’t be assured she’ll forgive my lie. So I’ll hold onto my secret for as long as I can and enjoy the scent of her on my sheets, on my skin, and remember what it feels like to sleep beside her at night.

  * * *

  Sander

  * * *

  Personal Demons

  * * *

  I have written a lot in the past about my father, the king of Latvala. They have not often been kind things. How could they be, when he is the way he is? Callous, merciless, relentless. He is everything I never wanted to be in a man. I think he is secretly disappointed with who I have become, for he’ll draw me aside and attempt to shove his vile worldview down my throat. Aksel Ahtissari is all about control, no matter who it devastates. He loves machinations and manipulation and pitting people against one another. He doesn’t understand my compassion toward my fellow man, nor my personal code of honor.

  * * *

  It’s not as if I’m a pushover or easily swayed. I’m steady where I need to be and won’t allow just anyone to dictate my actions. I know my own mind, up to and including rebuffing his attempts to bend me to his will. There is no reason to rule Latvala under a mantle of cruelty.

  * * *

  I can only imagine his reaction when he finds out I’ve been home and forbade anyone to inform him. I also can’t imagine his and Mother’s reaction when I tell them in no uncertain terms that I am not marrying Valentina Novak. I really think Mother believes I’ll return an engaged man. She’s probably printed up announcements for the paper, if I know her, which annoys me no end.

  * * *

  In my darkest hours, I long for the day I take control of Latvala and do not have to deal with their wickedness any longer.

  * * *

  Sander

  Chapter Four

  Haunted

  * * *

  Tonight I drove Chey to the haunted castle, filling her head with ghost stories along the way. It was raining, adding a creepy feel to the old stone ruin. She gamely took a little flashlight with her and went in while I sat outside and waited. But I only waited a few minutes. When I was sure she’d made it to the first set of stairs, I followed. Although I had someone come out and clear the castle earlier to make sure no squatters had settled in, there was no way I’d let Chey wander around the ruins alone in case she got into trouble. My protective nature over her continues to grow.

  * * *

  Not ten minutes after she was inside, screams echoed down from the tower room. I wish I could say that I was smug while I loped up the stairs to find her, but something about those sounds sent chills through me. I was glad to see her when I reached the tower. She wasn’t hurt, hadn’t fallen or otherwise injured herself. But she was creeped out, just like I told her she would be.

  * * *

  I am a big enough man to admit I was smug afterward, when we were safely inside the car with the windshield wipers going. Chey took it all in good stride, even laughing at both my smugness and her reaction to the ruins. She’s not convinced there’s a ghost in the castle, but she experienced unsettling things that she cannot account for.

  * * *

  It was the ghost stories. They work every time.

  * * *

  We drove back to the cabin, and although I wanted to, I did not invite her in. There is something else I must do tonight which could change the landscape of our growing relationship. No longer can I sit by while danger lurks at the castle. While someone threatens her life.

  * * *

  Tonight I must prepare to officially come home.

  * * *

  Tomorrow, Chey will discover that I am not Sander Fisk, head of Latvalan security, but Sander Darrion Ahtissari, heir to the throne.

  * * *

  Sander

  * * *

  The Unmasking

  * * *

  And so it is done.

  * * *

  Chey now knows who I am, and what title I hold. Her shock was palpable in the solarium when I walked in earlier today for the photoshoot. The shock turned to fury, then to stone cold silence. It’s not that I can blame her. I probably wouldn’t have been immediately forgiving if I was in her shoes either. But I wasn’t going to allow her to throw away what we have without a fight. She slapped me in the hallway when I stopped her from walking away, an action I probably deserved, and informed me she was quitting her job. Said she was leaving Latvala tomorrow.

  * * *

  I let her go after that only because I thought it better at that moment to let her sort through her feelings before attempting another conversation. She’s not getting on a plane without us talking through the situation when emotions aren’t running so high.

  * * *

  To say my family (except Mattias, since he was in on it all from the shooting onward) was also shocked is an understatement. Mother and Father called me immediately into a closed-door meeting, of course, no surprise there. We spent hours arguing and, by the time we were done, I wasn’t fit company for anyone, especially Chey. Mattias found me hours later brooding in my suite, a drink in hand. Above anyone else, he understands me. He gets why I did what I did and didn’t judge me for keeping the truth from the family.

  * *
*

  I have a feeling tomorrow will be more of the same. Mother demanded I meet them after breakfast, behind closed doors, for more soul crushing debate.

  * * *

  Thankfully, a storm is moving in, which will prevent Chey from going anywhere until we can talk.

  * * *

  Sander

  Chapter Five

  Fury

  * * *

  I am more furious than I have ever been. I don’t even know if I can write in this journal, don’t know that I can corral my whirlwind thoughts to make sense.

  * * *

  The meeting this morning was a disaster, as I knew it would be.

  * * *

  And Mother. My mother screeched and shouted and practically fainted at the very idea I would consider dating a commoner. An American, of all people. Someone without notable lineage, someone without even a family. Apparently, Mother put Chey through the third degree at a recent dinner, questioning her about the reproductive cycle of her parents and grandparents.

  * * *

  I just cannot—

  * * *

  The hell with this.

  * * *

  – S

  * * *

  The Ruin

  * * *

  I shot a man today.

  * * *

  In a cold stairwell, in an ancient familial ruin, I put a gun to his head and pulled the trigger. It was life or death, do or die. He was as big as me, as strong as me. He even looked a little like me. Which was the point, of course, to lure Chey as close as possible before he killed her. And he almost succeeded. I dread to think about what would have happened if I’d been even five minutes later.

  * * *

  I am not pleased with the outcome, and if there had been any safer way to end it, I would have chosen that route instead. The close confines, the darkness, the treacherous angle of the steps made fist fighting dangerous. It made attempting to subdue him for questioning almost impossible. He was out for blood, Chey’s first and then mine when I came between them.

  * * *

  Security questioned Chey for hours, and she did well with her answers. What we discovered is that the man who waited for Chey in the tower was not the same person who pinned her down in bed, which means there is more than one perpetrator.

  * * *

  It means Chey is not out of danger.

  * * *

  Security has been increased everywhere, though, now that word has gotten out. It will be much harder for anyone to get at Chey with so many layers of protection.

  * * *

  I drew her aside after the meeting ended because I knew we needed to talk. It wasn’t the right time, wasn’t the right circumstance. But Chey, strong as I know her to be, did not complain. She told me straight to my face that she understood why I did what I did, but that she was still angry. Any relationship can go nowhere, she said, and seemed to believe it.

  * * *

  Can it not? I am the maker of my own destiny, and I disagree.

  * * *

  I put all my cards on the table, told her that I thought she should stay and fight. Fight for what might be between us. To give this spark a chance. Neither of us is ready for more right now. We’re content to go slow, to let whatever this is grow. It won’t be easy, not with Mother and Father frothing at the mouth and in fits over Chey’s status, but I think I convinced her to at least finish out her photography contract. It will give us the time we need to see what becomes of our budding relationship.

  * * *

  She will give me her decision tomorrow or the next day.

  * * *

  I have not thought about what step I might take, if any, should she decline to take a chance on us. I can only hope she’s as strong-willed as I believe her to be, and that she’ll decide I’m worth it.

  * * *

  Sander

  Chapter Six

  The Evil Within

  * * *

  Chey was right. The man I shot in the tower was not the person who pinned her to the bed. After I left the castle today, on my way to a meeting in Kalev, I received a text from Chey that made my blood run cold. I knew immediately who the person was that had tried to kill Chey, someone I would have never even considered simply because of her meek, mild personality. The maid Elise tried to force Chey, at gunpoint, to drink from a bottle of water that is now at a lab for testing. I have no doubt the bottle will come back tainted with some sophisticated chemical or poison that would have ended Chey as surely as a bullet would. Thankfully, Allar got there in time to prevent a catastrophe. I sent him the moment I realized from Chey’s text that something was wrong.

  * * *

  But it was not Elise who orchestrated the entire thing. She took her orders from Viia, who apparently felt threatened by Chey and Mattias’s interactions. Viia has been arrested and is awaiting a hearing. She has hotly denied being involved in any attempt on Chey, to the point she collapsed after the initial interrogation. We have decided to tell the media something other than the truth of the situation so that there isn’t a huge scandal. Viia and Mattias’s relationship will dissolve and we will slowly leak to the public that things didn’t work out. Everyone, down to Mattias, agrees that is the best way to deal with it.

  * * *

  As for Chey, she has decided to stay. She has decided to fight. Despite the turmoil, the secrets, the upheaval that goes on in this castle, she will give us a chance to become more.

  * * *

  Only time will tell whether we were meant to be together.

  * * *

  Something in my gut says yes, that this woman will become the love of my life.

  * * *

  – S

  Chapter Seven

  Extracurricular

  Mattias, Leander, and I departed Latvala early this evening for Budapest. We left without warning, which is our usual way of dealing with covert missions. I hated to leave Chey behind so soon after the turmoil with Elise, but a young prince needs our help. Our group has discovered there will be an attempt on his life at a soiree thrown by royals of another country. Technically, Mattias and I should be attending this function instead of arriving on the sly, undercover.

  The young prince’s life is more important than the soiree and mingling with others of our ilk.

  We successfully penetrated the castle where the party was being held, using diversion and the cover of darkness to gain entrance. From there it was easy to change into tuxedos to blend in should we be discovered by security or stopped and questioned. We didn’t intend to be spotted by anyone, much less show our faces in the crowd. Too many there would recognize Mattias and me. We kept to the back halls. There were plenty to keep us hidden while we closed in on the room of the assassin.

  Little gets my blood pumping like these missions we go on. There is a thrill in the hunt, in stopping a murder before it happens. There is also the adrenaline rush from all the unexpected things that never fail to come up in the middle of a task.

  Such as the assassin not being in his room where we expected him to be at the time we arrived. That meant he’d left early and was on the move, preparing to take out the young prince.

  We changed our game plan on the run, consulting a map of the castle and the rooms assigned to the guests. It was a stroke of good fortune that we didn’t come across any staff or other party attendees as we navigated the labyrinth until we came to a door that did not belong to the prince, but to an attached chamber. We moved quickly through the gloom and found the expected connecting door.

  Once upon a time, centuries ago, these rooms were probably used by nobility. Princes and their wives, since the rooms weren’t large or elaborate enough for kings and queens. This was back when husbands and wives slept apart, with an anteroom to separate them.

  We crossed through the anteroom to the prince’s door and entered the chamber on silent feet. Luckily, the staff kept the hinges regularly oiled and there was no squeak to give our movements away.

  I saw two figures in th
e low-lit room, both near the fireplace. The young prince had his hands in the air, a terrified look on his face. But it was the other figure I advanced on, arriving just as the assassin realized there was someone else in the chamber. He turned, a gun in his hand. He’d been talking, probably telling the prince who sent him. Running his mouth enough to mute any noises of us moving in until the last second. I was on him by then, knocking the gun away and using my greater height and weight to subdue him.