The King Takes A Bride (Royals Book 4)
the gathered before landing on his brother.
    Gunnar and Krislin sat across the table next to Mattias, with Paavo's intended, Aurora, to Chey's right. The chess pieces were in place.
    What a cynical thought.
    As at the fitting, Aurora remained withdrawn, quiet. She didn't meet anyone's eyes, didn't give out more than a nod of greeting. There was something somber about her posture, the set of her lush mouth.
    No one gave any explanations for the tension, and Chey didn't ask.
    Paavo remained standing. “Thank you all for coming on such short notice. As you might guess, there's a reason I've requested a private audience with you. But first, let's eat.”
    Paavo toasted the group a final time, sipped from his glass, and sat down.
    Several courses of succulent food were brought by the staff, one after the other, advancing through the meal with steady progress.
    Chey took note of the silence among siblings while she ate. She had the distinct sensation that Sander was merely biding his time, going through the motions so they could get to the point of the visit. Even Aurora and Krislin had little to say to each other. Everyone appeared preoccupied with one thing or another, thoughts far from whatever Paavo had planned. Refusing cherry cheesecake dessert, Chey took another sip of water and relaxed into her chair, trying to focus on current events and not get caught up in the drama of the Crown Prince and Natalia.
    When Sander set a hand on her thigh under the table, she covered his knuckles with her palm and squeezed, enjoying the texture and heat of his skin.
    Finally, once the dishes were gone and wine glasses had been refilled, Paavo sat back in his chair and surveyed the group. His gaze landed and stayed with Sander, blatant and assessing. Sander returned the direct look, waiting Paavo out.
    Chey glanced between brothers, then at Mattias. She read a smile in the squint at the corners of his eyes as well as a growing intensity he didn't bother to hide. It was her first indication that this evening's 'event' might be more serious than she first anticipated. What did Paavo have up his sleeve?
    “Are you going to sit there and gloat all night, brother, or are you going to get to the point?” Sander sounded unimpressed by Paavo's tactics.
    Paavo took a long drink, set his glass down, and rose from his seat. Half turning to the archway, he raised his voice. “Bring it in, please.”
    Several minutes later, staff members carried in a large easel with a giant painting, picture, or some other drawing covered with a white sheet. The men set the easel within easy viewing distance of the guests and retreated, leaving the sheet in place.
    Chey wondered what was going on. Had Paavo ordered a painting done? If so, of who? She glanced at Sander. He wore a bored expression that was likely a ruse for something more keen.
    “This will come as a surprise to everyone, but I'd like you to keep an open mind,” Paavo said. “I'd like you to stop for several minutes and simply consider the implications, the idea, of what I'm about to present.”
    The more Paavo prepared them for what was to come, the more uncomfortable it made Chey. Whatever was under the sheet, she decided, would be something of monumental importance.
    “For crying out loud, show us already,” Gunnar said with clear irritation.
    Paavo caught the edge of the sheet in his fingers and flipped it up and over what turned out to be an elaborate drawing.
    At first, Chey didn't know what she was looking at. A map, certainly. Of Latvala, since the name was printed clearly at the top. Red lines marked what she thought were counties or territories. It didn't explain, however, why a sudden furor erupted around the table.
    “Have you lost your mind?” Sander said with an iron edge to his voice.
    “No. Absolutely not, Paavo. What are you thinking?” Mattias's question overlapped Sander's.
    “It cannot be allowed.” Gunnar, along with the other brothers, stood from his seat. He flattened

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