Latvala Royals: Bloodlines Page 2

  “I was told you did not get a good look at the person, Your Highness,” Bero said to Elias.

  “I did not. There were too many people crowding around the princess at the time. I was lucky, honestly, that I happened to see the vial and Inari’s glass at all. I can say that it was a man, however, thanks to the suit sleeve and cuff links,” Elias said.

  “Can you identify the links, Your Highness?”

  “I only caught a quick glimpse, as it were. So no, not with every other man present sporting similar dress.”

  “I see. Will you be available for further questioning tomorrow or so, if needed?” Bero asked.

  “Indeed. Have your people contact mine to set up a meeting. I’m happy to help.”

  “Thank you, Your Highness.” Bero and company exited the room. A few guards remained outside the doors, clearly on high alert.

  Elias pocketed his hand and prepared to depart the room in their wake. Inari laid her fingers on his arm, halting his exit.

  “A moment, please, Elias?”

  “Of course.” He would not deny her, even if he was anxious to get back into the crowd and do some investigating.

  “I’d like to return to the ball and prove all is well. I don’t know how many people witnessed our departure, but I’d like to quash any rumors before they get out of hand. I can think of only one way to distract the guests,” she said.

  Elias arched a brow, curious at what she had in mind.

  When she smiled, it changed her whole face. She said, “We dance.”

  Chapter 2

  Inari hid her discomfort over the attempted drugging by spinning effortlessly into Elias Ahtissari’s arms. She did not miss the sudden whispers and murmurs in the crowd, and sincerely hoped the distraction technique worked as planned. Better her friends and acquaintances—and the hooligan who attempted to drug her drink—saw that she was unscathed and had all her wits about her.

  Oh yes. She thought the perpetrator was still among them. Lurking in the room around the fringe of polite society, waiting for her to become a slobbering, incoherent mess. She imagined a scandalous scene of staged photographs of her drunk off her butt, with the best of the lot sold to the highest bidder. Tabloids the world over would exploit her misfortune. What a horrible scenario.

  “That was my foot,” Elias said, interrupting her reverie.

  “Pardon me?”

  “I said that was my foot. You’ve stepped on it three times now.” He looked and sounded amused.

  “I didn’t notice. I’m sorry. You don’t seem to have suffered any ill effects,” she pointed out. Elias—whom she had not seen in an eternity—proved to be a better dancer than she imagined. He kept his broad shoulders square, his spine straight, and possessed incredible rhythm.

  “It takes more than that to throw me off balance, Inari. I told you so that you can correct your steps. I’m sure you don’t want your unfancy footwork to show up all over social media later tonight. You started out flawless, but the last few minutes or so you’ve been completely distracted.”

  He was right. She didn’t want sloppy footwork all over social media. Videos, like pictures, lasted forever.

  “Thank you for the reminder,” she said, chin lifting an inch. From that moment, she concentrated solely on the dance. Conjecture over the evening’s events could wait until later.

  As the tempo of the music increased, so did the speed of their dance, until the faces of the other guests became nothing but a blur.

  She glanced up into Elias’s face, surprised to find him grinning.

  “What’s so funny?” she asked, wishing she’d worn taller heels. Elias stood at least six feet four, leaving her at a noticeable deficit despite her own height of five nine.

  “You. One moment you’re a million miles away, the next you’re dancing as if we’re in competition.”

  “You can’t have it both ways. You wanted me to focus; I’m focusing.”

  “I didn’t want you to focus. I’m perfectly happy to look you up later on social media, stepping all over my toes.” His smile grew exponentially.

  Inari scoffed. “You’re just as much of a liar now as you were four years ago.”

  Elias’s expression shifted into one of shock, which pleased Inari immensely.

  “When did I lie? And it wasn’t four years. It was three,” he said.

  “Four,” she argued, performing the next series of turns with the same precision she’d shown in the beginning of the dance. “And you lied when you complimented my gown that night. It was Lord Rittenhouse’s ball, if I remember correctly.”

  His brows arched. “My complimenting your dress was a lie?”

  “Yes. Because I allowed my dressmaker to choose the style, and it was a horrid choice. You can’t stand here and tell me that you’d compliment the same dress today.”

  “Honestly, Inari, I don’t remember a damn thing about that dress. I couldn’t tell you what color it was or how it fit or anything else.”

  “So not only did you lie about the dress, you didn’t mean the compliment when you said it. I see you’ve changed for the worse since we were younger,” she said. Inari couldn’t help baiting the prince a little. The more incredulous Elias looked, the more it amused her. And it was a pleasant distraction from the events of the night.

  Elias laughed. Hard. A baritone, booming sound that drew many glances.

  “Judas’s boots, woman. There is no pleasing you, is there?” he asked.

  Inari stifled her own amusement, bringing the dance to a close as the music wound down. A new song would start before the final notes rang into the room, but she had no intention of entering another round with him. “I’m very particular when it comes to the caliber of men I’m seen with. You, sir, fall far short of the mark.”

  With that, she bowed her head in gratitude for the dance and left Elias Ahtissari high and dry on the dance floor.

  She didn’t mean a word of it, of course. Elias had a reputation of honor and trust among his peers, and was the most sought-after bachelor in five kingdoms. As far as caliber went, he surpassed any ‘list’ she might have had.

  But what was good for the goose was good for the gander, as they used to say.

  Tit for tat.

  With a sudden rush of warm heat, she felt Elias’s breath on her ear.

  “Liar.”

  Inari muffled a laugh and glanced back, prepared to give the prince a teasing piece of her mind.

  He was already gone.

  * * *

  Elias was not as adept at stealth as Jeremiah, but he could get lost in a crowd easily enough. He carried a wealth of amusement away from his conversation with Inari, though it faded by degrees as he scanned the room for Jeremiah, anxious for an update. While he was at it, he remained aware for anything else that seemed out of place or suspicious.

  Anyone who acted out of place or suspicious.

  A hand landed on his shoulder unexpectedly. He knew right away that it was not Jeremiah’s brotherly clap.

  “If it isn’t the prince and the princess, dancing for the world to see. Hell’s bells, Elias. Do you have designs on the future queen of Somero?”

  Elias laughed as he faced Caspian, extending one hand for a familiar handshake. “Finally, our host comes to call. It’s about time. Where have you been all evening?”

  “I’ve been around. It’s you who’ve been distracted with the women, as usual.” Caspian smiled as he shook Elias’s hand. The two were as different as night and day: Caspian was dark to Elias’s light, with ink-black hair and gray eyes. He stood precisely three inches shorter than Elias’s six-four stature, though his posture was confident and self-assured.

  Elias scoffed. “One woman, one dance. If I danced with no one, then everyone would be talking about that.”

  “Not just a woman, though. There will be talk and pictures all over the internet tomorrow,” Caspian said, still grinning.

  Elias stepped closer and lowered his voice. “I think that was her plan. Have you heard
?”

  “Heard what?” Caspian looked bewildered but lowered his voice accordingly.

  “About Inari’s unfortunate incident tonight?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Caspian said.

  “You will. Your guards will notify you shortly. Let’s retreat to your private parlor for a moment.” Elias didn’t want to get into a deep discussion among the crowd. People were everywhere, brushing against him, against Caspian, on their way somewhere else. One wrong overheard word might ruin Inari’s discretion.

  Caspian led the way through the throng, smiling at his guests as if nothing were the matter. Elias appreciated Caspian’s ability to grasp the importance of the situation and act accordingly. He too shared a few smiles with guests he knew, then veered away down a corridor, easily keeping up with Caspian’s brisk pace.

  Caspian’s private parlor, accessed only by a code tapped into a hidden keypad beside the double doors, looked the same as it ever had. Three arching, cathedral-style windows stood to the right, overlooking the castle’s impressive grounds, while the rest of the parlor consisted of carefully arranged sofas, chairs and a single chaise lounge. Baroque accents offset walls lined with ancestral paintings in elaborate gilt frames. A floor-to-ceiling fireplace, replete with cherubs carved into the marble, provided a centerpiece to conversation. Elias chose to lean against the mantel rather than take a seat on the furniture.

  “So what’s all this with Inari, then? Was your dance a distraction?” Caspian asked.

  “You always were quite astute. Yes, it was.” Elias pinned Caspian with a direct look. “I happened to see someone try and drug the princess. Used a vial, tipped it into her glass. Luckily, I got there before she took a drink.”

  Caspian had been just about to sit down, but lurched back to his feet, frowning. “The devil. Are you serious—no. Don’t answer that. Of course you’re serious. Did you notify the guards? Is the perpetrator in custody?”

  “I notified her guards, yes. And handed off the glass to her people to be tested, see what kind of drug it was.” Elias crossed his arms over his chest. The suit coat pulled taut across the breadth of his back. “No one saw the perpetrator. I sent Jeremiah to look, but there were too many people around Inari at the time. I only saw a sleeve and a hand.”

  Caspian stalked to the door of the parlor and had a word with one of his guards in the hallway. Moments later, he returned. “I’ve set my men on it. I think we should call the authorities, lock down the castle.”

  Elias unfolded his arms long enough to put a palm out to Caspian. “That was my first reaction as well. But hold a moment. If you tell future leaders they cannot leave the castle, or the ballroom, due to a drugging incident, you’re probably going to piss off a lot of people and offend the rest. Even suggesting guilt isn’t going to go over well. If there weren’t future kings and queens out there, it would be different.”

  Caspian paced through the parlor, fingers rubbing his smooth shaved chin. He paused near the arm of a wingback. “If we do nothing, then the perpetrator might become emboldened. Try it again. This time, he may not try drugging but kidnapping. And what kind of effect will that have on Imatra’s reputation? Hell, my reputation? It happened on my watch.”

  “Whoever it was has probably seen the uptick in security. Her guards are on it, Jeremiah’s out looking, and now your guards will be seen. I think an open kidnapping attempt is unlikely—at least tonight. Do you have surveillance cameras set up in the ballroom? That would be the most expedient way to catch the person who did this.”

  Caspian snapped his fingers. “Yes. Let’s go look at the footage.”

  Elias pushed from his lean and followed Caspian out of the parlor.

  With any luck, they would have the perpetrator—if the man was still on the grounds—in their custody shortly.

  If the man had made a clean getaway, they would still have a face to run through recognition systems.

  Either way, Elias thought the perpetrator’s freedom was nearing an end.

  Chapter 3

  Inari made a point of remaining in the ballroom long after Elias and Caspian had departed. Oh, she’d seen them all right, thick as thieves, stalking off down the hallway to a private location.

  Perhaps they were plotting what action to take next. She only hoped it didn’t involve the media or an announcement. She’d been fairly clear to Elias that she wanted to keep a low profile regarding the attempted drugging.

  When several high-ranking royals approached for dances, Inari did not turn the offers down. She spun onto the floor, acting carefree although she did not feel so, giving all her attention to her partner.

  It pleased her that the gossipmongers now had new meat to chew over, as it were. First it had been her and Elias, then a string of princes after that. Tongues were wagging and speculation ran wild. A perfect distraction from the increase in the number of guards present in the ballroom. They were discreet enough, which she appreciated, but easily noted.

  Her final partner, a prince from Weithan Isle, bowed over her hand and kissed the back of her knuckles.

  She let him. Why not? He was handsome and charming, although his reputation as an unfaithful rogue meant she would never take his attention seriously.

  When she returned to her circle of friends, Inari gestured to a member of the waitstaff for a fresh drink while enduring an endless array of queries.

  “What is going on in that head of yours this evening, Innie?”

  “You’ve danced with more men this evening than in the entire last year of balls and royal appointments. Have you decided to take finding a husband seriously?”

  “Well, now you’ve gone and confused us all. Thanks for that.”

  Inari shifted from annoyance at the hated nickname ‘Innie’ to subtle laughter at the latter retort. She said, “It wouldn’t be as fun if I didn’t keep you all guessing.”

  “So tell us who your favorite is,” someone asked.

  Inari accepted a new glass of champagne after Bero had given her a nod of approval. He’d watched the liquid being poured from an unopened bottle and seemed confident she could imbibe without fear of being drugged. She brought the vessel to her lips, liberally partaking of the bubbly.

  “I have no favorite,” she said. “They are all simply dance partners. You should try exercising more than your curiosity, ladies.”

  Suddenly, Inari noticed every pair of eyes turn to someone or something just past her shoulder. She had no time to be surprised before a looming presence appeared at her back.

  “Prince Elias,” Inari said, recognizing his distinct cologne from their dance earlier. The notes of bergamot, amber, and oak paired well with the scent that was all his.

  “Pardon us, ladies,” Elias said.

  A strong arm scooped her around the waist, startling a small noise of complaint from her lips. But then they were moving. Elias used just enough pressure with his arm to propel her forward through the crowd. His somewhat raspy voice dipped close to her ear.

  “I need to speak with you.”

  “Clearly. Is this glass actually drugged, then?”

  “It has nothing to do with the drink in your hand,” Elias said.

  Nonetheless, Inari set the flute aside on a passing tray and allowed Elias his whim. Her mind spun with one scenario after another.

  They’d found the perpetrator.

  The perpetrator was still lurking in the room.

  Or maybe, even, she knew the culprit and the name was too sensitive for Elias to say out loud in public.

  What if it was a peer? A prince who would one day be king?

  Inari rounded on Elias when they entered the same room as before. Sconces on the castle walls provided plenty of light to see Elias’s concerned expression, which served to halt all Inari’s internal musings. She had never known Elias to be melodramatic.

  “Elias, what is it?”

  “Caspian and I just finished watching the surveillance video of the ballroom.”

 
; “And?” She tilted her head, expecting a shocking name to fall from his lips.

  “. . . and whoever it was knew right where the cameras were stationed. He averted his face to the point that we can’t determine an identity. Caspian is having the footage sent to a lab to see what they can do. Professionals can sometimes get a hit with better computer software.”

  “All right,” Inari said. She wasn’t sure what to make of the news, exactly. “I have the feeling there’s something you’re not saying.”

  “Think hard. Does any interaction in the last few months stand out? Anything at all? With other royals, servants, beaus?”

  “Why? Why is that so important?”

  “Because this has the earmarks of stalking. This person preplanned the entire event and has intimate knowledge of this castle, which makes it dangerous, in my opinion, for you to be here.”

  Inari drew herself up and straightened her shoulders. “I’ll tell you what I believe. I believe it’s someone who probably wanted to set me up for a compromising photo opportunity. You asked if any interaction lately stands out—yes. Some three weeks ago, I was touring a city in Somero when, all of a sudden, a great fuss broke out in the crowd beyond my security team. A man thrust his way through, camera in hand, and shoved the lens practically under my nose. He didn’t get that close, actually, thanks to my guards, but he strained against their arms and attempted to break through to get to me. It was somewhat unnerving.”

  “If that’s the case, then this person also managed to wheedle their way through the castle gate, past the guards at the doors, and into the party without an alarm going off. This party was invite only. He must have duplicated the invitation—yet they check every invitation and name twice before they allow entrance.” Elias paced the room, brows drawn together over his eyes.

  Inari wrung her hands together as she regarded Elias. His disturbed, thoughtful expression was not reassuring in the least. “Perhaps this person learned that a guest wasn’t coming to the party and took his place. The guards likely didn’t memorize faces from the guest list.”