Heir Untamed - By Danielle Bourdon Page 0,54
wine. “And you possess--”
“Mattias Ahtissari! It's been too long. How are you?” A gentleman with ink black hair and equally dark eyes intruded on their conversation, smiling broadly with one hand extended to Mattias.
“Prince Severian, I think you're getting fat.” Mattias shook the man's hand, grinning like the devil himself. “I'm well. This is Miss Sinclair. Miss Sinclair, Prince Severian of Weithan Isle.”
Prince Severian laughed and clapped Mattias on the shoulder. “Always the charmer. Miss Sinclair, my pleasure.” He turned to Chey and extended his hand in the way that men do when they kiss the back instead of shake.
Chey let him have her fingers. “The pleasure is mine, Prince Severian.”
He lifted her knuckles to his lips for a brief brush, and released her. “Now then, not to be rude, but may I steal your date for a moment or two?”
Mattias arched a brow at Severian.
Chey couldn't decide if Mattias was surprised by the request or surprised that the Prince was asking her permission. “Of course. Prince Ahtissari, you know where to find me.”
She stepped away to let the men discuss what they would. The affairs of the state or other political intrigue. Not three steps from them, she heard Severian lower his voice and address Mattias. His voice carried despite his best attempt to be discreet.
“I won't keep you, Matt. But what's the rumor I hear that there's been assassination chatter intercepted by your security?”
Damn. Chey wanted to linger and hear Mattias's answer. Assassination chatter for who? The King? The Queen? By the time she heard the low rumble of Mattias's voice, she was too far away to make out specific words. Threading her way to the edge of the crowd, she positioned herself near a vacant table and sipped at her wine. She wasn't daunted by standing alone in a crowd of dignitaries. It gave her an opportunity to see how this level of society worked, how the women congregated in groups and how the men branched off, puffing on cigars or tossing back brandy. She wondered at the number of Royalty present that didn't belong to the Ahtissari name and what their visit was about. Surely, some sort of deal making was happening, or being introduced for the rest to consider. Trade, import and export, military might, positions on war. It could be a number of things.
“Left to your own devices already. I'm not surprised. Why don't you make a quiet exit while no one's watching,” Natalia hissed at her side.
Distracted by Mattias and Severian, Chey didn't see Natalia's approach.
“Or what? You'll pitch another tantrum and throw your glass at me?” Chey, shocked at her own audacity, couldn't quell her sudden fit of impatient annoyance. She didn't owe Natalia anything, hadn't done anything wrong, and she was growing tired of the woman's vitriol every time she turned around.
Natalia narrowed her eyes and leaned closer, until her mouth was right at Chey's ear. “I'll have you and your precious camera thrown out on your ass. Watch and see if I don't. Speak to me like that one more time, and you'll find yourself on a fast track back to whatever hovel you crawled out of.”
If there was anywhere Natalia could strike a winning blow, it was with the threat of being forced to leave the castle. She hadn't yet worked off the money she'd put in the bank, and the damage to her reputation might never recover if word got out that she'd been fired for lack of professionalism at her job. She was sure Natalia would do as much damage on the international front as she could, wrecking Chey's chance to work with other members of high society.
Still. It galled her to swallow her pride and feign regret. “My apologies, Princess Natalia.”
“You don't sound very convincing.”
Chey wanted to ask Natalia if she didn't have better things to do than stand here and heckle the hired help. Curbing her wayward tongue, she lifted her glass and sipped the wine instead. It kept her mouth busy until she reined in her temper. Across the room, she saw Mattias glance her way. His eyes narrowed when he spied Natalia standing in such close proximity. Chey knew she needn't convey the tension between herself and Natalia. A moment later, he disengaged from Severian and headed her way.
Rather than repeat an apology she didn't feel or mean, Chey took another drink. Natalia chose that moment to 'accidentally' bump her shoulder in the guise of reaching for a napkin on the table behind