Heir Untamed - By Danielle Bourdon Page 0,3
grip, departed the clubhouse with Hendrik on his heels.
Chey bid them farewell, watching until they were gone.
Excited, nervous, and still shocked, she left the clubhouse for her apartment. Royalty, castles, foreign countries oh my.
She hoped her life had just taken an abrupt turn for the better.
. . .
The private jet was the most luxurious thing Chey had seen in a long time. White leather seats and sofas trimmed in gold sat in a spacious layout which included a television, a wet bar and a kitchen further back near the bathroom. Opulence reigned, from the fine carpet to the sleek color scheme to the little luxuries such as fine chocolate, wine and the plush make of the furniture.
They had been in the air for eight hours already, the plane cutting through a dark sky with impressive speed. Before leaving Seattle, she had deposited the first check in the bank, pre-paid her rent for six months, and arranged for her neighbor to collect her mail.
As promised, Allar had a passport waiting when they arrived in a sedan to pick her up. Contracts signed, the only thing left to do was travel.
After an hour layover to refuel, they were back in the air. The stewardess, attired in a neat, dark blue suit, served her an early breakfast of fruit and toast at her request. Chey didn't want anything heavy sitting on her stomach when they landed. While she ate, she lamented that she hadn't had any time in Seattle to do research on the Royals. She wondered what they were like, and how many of them there were. Just how big was the castle?
Despite herself, intrigue crept in. She was going to be photographing Royalty. Rulers of a kingdom. Would they speak to her, or would they simply pose as she instructed and ignore her?
What a surreal turn of events.
Out the small oval window next to her seat, Chey watched the sun breech the horizon. At least they would be landing in daylight. She didn't want to arrive in the dark, when the impact of the country and the castle would be diminished.
An hour later, the captain announced their imminent arrival. Handing over her empty bottle and her plate to the stewardess, she buckled up and awaited landing. She caught glimpses of Latvala bathed in colors of the sunrise. It was difficult to tell any detail from this height, but she made out patches of farmland and a snaking river with ease.
The smooth transition from air to ground happened in a matter of minutes. After landing, taxiing and disembarking, Allar and Hendrik showed her to a waiting limousine. Painted a deep, royal blue, the vehicle sported silver accents which carried over to the plush interior.
Luggage stowed in the back, Chey watched the private landing strip fall away in favor of pristine, wild landscape that stretched as far as the eye could see. Chey likened the view to something primordial, lost to time, something one might find if they'd inhabited Earth a half million years ago. Broad meadows, mist clinging to the tops of the grass, were flanked by the distant outline of trees. The forest sprawled for miles, promising abundant wildlife and more importantly, privacy.
To her right, after a stand of Spruce fell away that had been choking the side of the road, the terrain gave way to the sea. Waves crashed hard on a shore with stretches of creamy looking sand interrupted by collections of boulders thrusting up from the ground. It was primal, beautiful, undisturbed by the advance of man.
Chey wanted to get out and start photographing immediately.
“We're here,” Allar said from the seat across. He gestured to the left.
Chey switched her attention from one window to another, gasping in shock as the Ahtissari family seat came into view.
Nestled in broad swathes of open land sat a castle worthy of fairy tales. It had everything a castle should: incredible architecture, turrets with spires, an iron toothed gate and the family standard flying high.
The only thing missing was a moat.
After passing through an initial checkpoint, they approached the iron gate. It cranked up a foot at a time as a guard, dressed in a dove gray uniform with silver trim, stepped out of the guardhouse to greet them. Exchanging brief words with the guard, the driver cruised through a fifty foot long tunnel that emerged into an immense courtyard. A fountain stood in the middle, carved of back-to-back lions standing on their hind legs, front claws raking the air.
Supported by eight columns,