In the cold underground, with flashlight beams slanting crosswise over the dagger’s hilt, Elias read the name again.

Ariss Rehn Ahtissari.

Ariss. Rehn. Ahtissari.

Rehn. Of the Rehn dynasty? But what was he doing with the Ahtissari surname attached?

Elias’s stomach knotted with tension. He couldn’t get rid of the shock that briefly held him immobile as his mind raced with implications and what-ifs. He did not recognize the name Ariss, did not ever remember any of his ancestors having the middle name Rehn to pass down.

It was the kind of coincidence he didn’t believe in. For one of his Ahtissari ancestors to have Rehn as a middle name meant something. This wasn’t a naming of convenience or happenstance.

This was a clue.

“Okay,” Inari said with a tremble in her voice. “Let’s break it down—wait, before we start conjecturing, maybe you should come into the hallway. I’m not sure how much longer I can hold the door.”

Elias arched his beam away from the dagger toward the tunnel, where the sound of a shoe scuffing the floor drew his attention. Three guards came into view, their beams aimed at the ground.

“Let’s have them hold the door and you can come in with me. We need to go through all the boxes and see if there are any journals or papers or maps, then we can take it back to Kallaster and really take our time with it. You good with that?” Elias asked. He needed time to process. To come to grips with the discovery. A large part of him believed he’d stumbled across something that might change the landscape of his life in ways he could not yet imagine. Yes, he wanted to start ruling out scenarios, was anxious for answers. But he didn’t want to leave more possible clues unchecked in the crates and boxes while they were down there.

“Yes. Let’s hurry,” Inari said.

And so, once the guards had been brought up to speed, Elias retreated into the cavern and tasked Inari along with two guards to go through the crates. He wanted anything that resembled a journal or book of any kind to be set aside. Any maps, papers, uniforms, material, or weapons.

As it turned out, the hidden cavern was a goldmine.

They discovered a handful of books, all journals, along with several more weapons depicting the old crest and three maps that were so faded Elias wasn’t sure they’d be able to make out all the details.

Halfway through the process, he radioed up top and ordered his lead guard to send more men down. He also ordered the guard to radio back to Kallaster Castle and put Sander on alert. Elias wanted a team ready to extract the skeleton at the soonest possible moment. He did not mention the carved name on the dagger to anyone as they worked, and warned Inari with just a glance not to say anything either.

That particular bit of information needed to stay quiet until he could get behind closed doors with his father. It wouldn’t do to have rumors get out that might wind up with the media, who would speculate the details to death.

Several hours later, Elias departed the underground cavern with Inari on his heels. His arms were full of books and Ariss’s dagger; hers were packed with more books and a stack of folded papers. They emerged eventually into the late afternoon sun and hauled their prizes to the waiting SUVs. He couldn’t wait to get the artifacts back to Kallaster Castle and study them in a more controlled environment.

Once they’d carefully deposited their findings in the back of the Land Rover, Elias climbed behind the wheel and headed for the docks. He was of a mind to drive rather than rely on a member of their security team. Inari’s men followed in the vehicle behind, along with two of Elias’s own personal security. The rest remained behind to keep watch over the castle.

Soon, Elias hoped, he would have answers to some very pressing questions.

---

Inari laid her armful of books on the broad desk in Sander’s downstairs office. The room was large and decorated in masculine textures of dark wood and exquisite fawn-colored leather. Bookcases lined one wall, while maps of Latvala and the world lined another. A fireplace sat in the corner, flanked by two plush chairs, while thick beams arched overhead on a tall ceiling. She took in the details secondhand, almost subconsciously, because her attention kept darting to Elias. His intent expression had lasted the entire trip from the mainland to Pallan Island, and was still there.

They locked gazes across the desk.

He came around the edge, one hand trailing across the surface, until he stood directly in front of her.

Inari tilted her chin to see his eyes better. “Do you think I should leave you and your father to sort things out? I don’t want to be in the way.”

It was the last thing she wanted to do. Her precocious nature demanded she stay and help work through the mystery until an answer came.

Never mind the fact she was curious as hell.

“You’re definitely not in the way. Stay as long as you like. I trust you to keep all this to yourself. Now, my father, if he decides he doesn’t want any witnesses to whatever we find . . .”

“I know.” The king might see things differently than his son. Inari was familiar with that aspect of being a reigning king’s offspring. She understood.

He kissed her mouth gently, then commandingly. Inari laid her palms on his sides and slid them around to his back. She was aware they couldn’t get too carried away—Sander was due soon, after all—but she enjoyed every second that the kiss lasted. When their mouths parted, she stared into his eyes, pleased to see an affected look in his own.

“Once all this is over and we have answers, once we’re a little further past the Valentina situation, I think you and I should go away together. Maybe Switzerland or South America. Maybe a Caribbean island. Somewhere fewer people will recognize us,” he said, dragging his fingers through the ends of her hair.

“What, and not date properly first?” she said, grinning.

“Well, we could do that, I suppose. Everyone will know, though, and we’ll be lucky to have a private moment to ourselves. Once word gets out that we’re seeing each other, all bets are off.”

She knew it was true. The relationship between a future king and queen—from different countries no less—would be hashed to death. All manner of speculation and misinformation would surface, not to mention the political ramifications it might have. Some countries would be defensive, some eager to make an alliance, still others wary and on the fence.

Nothing would be the same.

Not ever.

“All right. We’ll sneak away. I’m not sure what’ll happen if we’re found out anyway and the media gets word,” she said.

“It’ll be a scandal of monumental proportions,” Elias said with a laugh.

“What will be a monumental scandal?” Sander said from the doorway.

Inari dropped her arms from around Elias as if she’d been burned. She knew she shouldn’t feel guilty or conspicuous, but it was his father. “Your Majesty.”

Elias did not seem as quick to hide their affection, she noticed. He swiveled a look toward the door and only then let his hands fall back to his sides.

“If the media discovers Inari and me vacationing in secret at a romantic destination,” Elias said.

Inari withstood Sander’s sudden, incisive glance. She knew what he was thinking. Would this little fling turn into something more? Was Inari the right woman for Elias? Was she looking for more in the hookup than love? She’d grown up at her own father’s knee and understood the semantics of marrying for political gain.

That was not what this was about, however, and she withstood Sander’s glance with as much aplomb as possible. The reigning king of Latvala sauntered deeper into the office. He wore an old pair of khaki pants, worn out lace-up boots, and a long-sleeved ribbed sweater the color of oatmeal.

Very dressed down for a sitting king.

Inari had heard a lot about Sander through her father, of course, most of it politically motivated. She knew of the wars he’d fought, the sacrifices he’d made, his fairness in dealing with his people.

Sander wore his middle age well. Bits of silver had crept in along his hairline and the creases at the corners of his eyes and mouth only added character to his handsome face. It struck Inari as Sander drew even closer that Elias was nearly a spitting image of his father. Same dark blond hair streaked with lighter pieces at the top and sides, same athletic build, same projection of inner confidence.

“Let me know if I can help keep it under cover,” Sander said with a wink Inari’s way.

She smiled and slowly released a pent-up breath.

Sander wasn’t going to be standoffish and judgmental. If he had reservations about what he’d just seen, he didn’t show it or say so.

“Thank you,” she said.

“What’s this I hear about a skeleton?” Sander asked as he closed in on the desk. He ran his fingertips briefly over the top of a dusty book.

Elias said, “We’ve discovered another dagger with the old crest, found in the box with the dead man. We might never know if the dagger actually belonged to the man, or if someone else left it there for reasons we can’t begin to guess. The name carved on the handle just doesn’t make any sense, though.”

“And the name was?” Sander asked.

“Ariss Rehn Ahtissari.”