Heir in Exile by Danielle Bourdon Read Free Book Online

regarding the elite of the world. Stories that had seemed so far removed from her reality in Seattle, Washington. Chey understood things happened, and that there were people who would see harm come to leaders and the ruling class. This happened to be the King, however, acting against his firstborn son. Was it normal? Were the children of Royalty really forced to bend to the will of their superiors and elders?
    It was mind boggling.
    Sooner than later, the SUV pulled into an underground parking garage not unlike the one she'd left not long ago. It tested her nerves, put her patience on edge again.
    Parking near an elevator bank, the suited men disembarked and came around to help her to the ground. Barefoot, the concrete cold on her skin, she padded to the elevator with Mattias hovering at her back.
    They rode up in silence.
    She wasn't sure what hotel they were at, or where they were in the city. The chase and chaos had totally obliterated her sense of direction.
    The light chimed above floor number 20. Opening onto what appeared to be a regular floor of a well appointed hotel, Chey allowed Mattias to guide her to a set of double doors with a gold plaque on the wall listing the suite as number 204. She noted there were few other doors on this floor as well; perhaps it was one of the private floors reserved for celebrities or the like.
    One of the guards opened the door with a pass card, stepping back to allow Mattias in first.
    Chey followed on Mattias's heels, immediately searching for Sander. The suite was not as elaborate as the penthouse of the Royal Regency, but it was nevertheless a five star appointment. Rich mahogany paired with tapestry covered furniture and leather to create an almost Victorian feel.
    Sander paced through the room, agitation clear in the line of his shoulders. Once he saw Mattias and Chey, he cut across the space and gathered her into his arms.
    Chey slid her arms around his neck, relief making her knees weak. Thank God.
    Mattias hadn't lied. Sander was in one piece, albeit banged up from the confrontation with the armed assailants.
    “You look a bit of a wreck. Are you all right?” Sander asked near her ear.
    “I'm fine. Just a few bruises.” Her cheek sported a good one from the backhand, easy to ignore for now. Later there would be time for ice, maybe a hot bath to ease the ache starting to collect in her muscles from the crash. “What about you?”
    Sander leaned back and cupped her face in his palms. “Fine, fine. Come sit down.” He led her to a plush sofa and helped her down into the cushions.
    “I'd really like to know what's going on,” she said once she was settled. What she wanted was a change of clothes and something hot to drink. Maybe even something spiked.
    Sander perched on the arm of the sofa at her side and looked across at Mattias.
    “You know,” Sander said. “If I hadn't known for sure you were on my side, I would have sworn you'd been baited to work for the King.”
    Mattias poured himself a drink from a sidebar. “As I told Chey in the car, it had to be real. The men had to believe I was on his side, not yours. It's still very important to keep that charade up for now.”
    “What the hell is going on, Mattias? What's this about exile? He has to know I'll never agree to that.”
    Mattias kicked back a healthy swallow before speaking. “I overheard him talking about these plans in his private parlor. He didn't realize I was there. He's furious, ready to denounce you and remove you entirely from the line of successors. Exile is a good way to prevent you from ever being able to ascend in his wake. If you do it on your own merit, it allows him to save face in front of our people, you see.”
    “I have a hard time believing he would go to this extreme just because of who I choose to date.”
    “It's not just that it isn't their choosing—which is a lot of it, you know how they are—but that she's American. A foreigner with no standing, no family, no political