at his side while he sent one girl from the room and faced down the rest.
Natalia burst into their native tongue, using a finger to point at Mattias with obvious accusation. Mattias, with steel control, replied in a way that convinced Chey he had the upper hand in the conversation.
A moment later, Natalia's face went white and she fled the hall in Viia's wake.
The Queen's lips pressed together, but she said no more.
“If anyone else intends to be rude to my guest, kindly take your leave,” Mattias said. He guided Chey to the table and pulled out a chair.
The last thing she wanted to do was sit down. If he expected her to eat after this, he was sadly mistaken. Still, she eased into the chair, waiting to see who else was going to get up and depart.
Paavo and Aurora sat down across from them.
There were four place settings between their seats and the King and Queen and Chey thanked her lucky stars that Mattias had the wherewithal to give everyone some distance.
“Nothing much has changed in our absence, I see,” the unnamed man said. He escorted his companion to a chair next to Aurora and sat down himself.
“Miss Sinclair, my youngest brother Prince Gunnar and his wife, Princess Krislin.” Mattias took his chair while making terse introductions.
“Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Chey said. She didn't offer her hand across the gilded table, accustomed already to the Ahtissari tradition as far as that was concerned.
Krislin, with her tawny hair and blue eyes, assessed Chey without the judgement so common with everyone else. And she smiled, nearly catching Chey off guard.
“Miss Sinclair,” Krislin said, inclining her head.
“Miss,” Gunnar added.
Paavo and Aurora tacked on quiet greetings and took their seat closer to the King and Queen.
Much to Chey's surprise, neither Aksel nor Helina retreated from the table. She soon learned it would have been much better if they had.
Over a first course of fine bullion and black rye bread, Helina asked, “What of your family line, Miss Sinclair? Where do they hail from?”
“My parents were both born in Washington. They met in college and got married after they graduated. Beyond that, I have more distant relatives that came from France, Italy, and Ireland, among others.” Chey struggled to sip spoonfuls of the broth without choking. She was sitting here talking to the Queen of Latvala like it was an every day occurrence.
“What of their occupations?” she asked next.
Chey squirmed in her seat. She didn't miss the look Mattias shot his mother.
“My father owned a small business in Seattle and my mother was a teacher.”
“And your grandparents?”
“Stone mason, automobile factory employee, seamstress and my other grandmother stayed at home to raise her child.” Thankful for the wine Mattias poured, she picked up her glass and had a much needed sip.
“A family of laborers, then,” Helina surmised.
“Yes.” Chey refused to show shame. More than half the people in the world were laborers of one sort or another. Not everyone could be Royalty.
“And how many--”
Mattias cut the Queen off with a quiet word in their native language.
“...how many brothers and sisters do you have?” Helina, apparently unintimidated by Mattias's interruption, finished asking her question.
The second course arrived. Platters of broiled pork, fish and salads were set near each person. Sliced potatoes in some sort of cheese sauce followed, along with slices of a different kind of bread Chey couldn't place.
“None, your Majesty. I'm an only child.” Chey remembered Mattias explaining how Viia had been chosen because of her extensive family line.
“What of your parents?”
“All but one had a brother or sister. My mother was an only child as well. My grandmother miscarried two before her.”
Silence fell over the table. The only sound for five minutes was the gentle clink of silver against china.
If you'd been petitioning for a place as one of the Prince's wives, Chey ol' girl, you just shot yourself in the foot. Dry commentary ran through Chey's mind as she picked up one of three forks set on a separate napkin. She couldn't help that her grandmother had difficult pregnancies.
Mattias muttered something under his breath. After that, the rest of the meal passed in relative peace and quiet. Everyone concentrated on eating, which absolved the need to converse.
The food turned out to be well seasoned and excellently prepared. Chey hardly noticed. It was a distant appreciation in the effort to finish so that Mattias would escort her back to her room. If this was what it was like to be an intimate