The King Takes A Bride (Royals Book 4)
here to set the record straight,” he repeated. “Latvala will not be partitioned off into sections.”
    A surge of questions flew from the reporters while cameras flashed and film rolled.
    “Is there any truth to the news that a petition has been circulating?”
    “What about the five thousand signatures?”
    “Will there be riots if the petition signers aren't heard, and what do you plan to do with dissenters?”
    “Does this have anything to do with the fact you're not legally allowed to rule, Your Majesty?”
    “Reports are coming in from the back country that thousands more are waiting to sign the petition. At what point is the Monarchy required to listen to the people?”
    Chey refused to let her surprise at some of the questions show on her face. Several reporters brought up Sander's right to the throne, their tones and questions bordering indignation.
    “I've seen the petition. We're accounting for the signatures but it's going to take a while--”
    “Does that mean you believe--”
    “Excuse me,” Sander said to the reporter who cut him off, a steely edge to his voice. “Wait until I'm finished speaking before you interrupt with more questions.”
    The reporter stood up and pressed the issue, cheeks red with importance. “Does that mean you believe some of the signatures were forged? Or that the names are fake? If so, what does that say about the Monarchy?”
    Sander met the reporter's eyes and held them. A long, uncomfortable minute stretched in complete silence. Without saying a word, without shouting or getting unruly, Sander quieted the onslaught and made a few of the reporters squirm.
    “It means we're covering all the bases. I'm not taking anyone's word, even my own brother, that the signatures are authentic. Listen,” he said, making a gesture with his hand. “Nothing has changed. If citizens riot and loot, they'll be arrested like any other day. A crime is a crime, period. This gives no one the right to assault anyone else, or an innocent business. If there are people unhappy with decisions made for this country, by all means, let us know. This policy has been in place for decades.”
    If she didn't know better, Chey might have thought Sander was chiding the reporters as well as members of the public who complained no one ever listened. Yet he didn't quite take it there, treading a thin line between answering simply, and answering with attitude. It was effective, either way. The reporters were less aggressive during their next round of questions.
    “If there were enough signatures, would the Monarchy consider splitting the country up?”
    “No. I'm solidly against any division whatsoever. As I said a moment ago, it's our belief that dividing Latvala is not in the best interest of the country or its people,” Sander said.
    “Does this mean there is dissension in the Royal family, that all the brothers cannot agree on a course of action?”
    “There's dissension now ,” Sander said with no small amount of wryness. It elicited a laugh from the reporters. “But it changes nothing. Prince Mattias, Prince Gunnar and I are agreed and that's all that matters.”
    “With the recent situation over the former King, how can you assure the people that this won't turn into another event that rips at the fabric of society?”
    “I can't. I won't. It's not realistic,” Sander said, answering the question head on. His honesty couldn't be faulted. “But what I can say is that my brothers and I are united in our cause to keep things at an even keel. If it's within our power to fix, we'll fix it.”
    “Will the wedding be delayed?”
    “Absolutely not. In fact, some of our guests are arriving as early as this evening.”
    The reporters flew into a flurry of questions about which royals would be present and where they were staying.
    Sander held up a hand to stay further requests. “I won't be giving that information. Thank you all for coming out.”
    As a set, the three brothers stepped away from the

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