waited for the rest of the joke, only it didn’t come, and the look Demyan was giving her said it wasn’t going to.
She knew that ultimately the ownership of Yurkovich Tanner resided with the monarchy of that country. However, the thought that Demyan’s uncle and the king were one and the same person had never entered her mind.
“Your uncle is a king.”
“Yes.”
“Oxana?”
“Queen.”
“She told me to call her Oxana.”
“That is her privilege.”
Chanel felt like she was going to be sick. “You never said.”
“I didn’t want to scare you off.”
“Holding back important information is like lying.”
“I’m called Prince Demyan, but I’m no knight in shining armor. At heart I am a Cossack, Chanel. You must realize that. Any armor I have is tarnished. I am a human man with human failings.” He said it as if admitting a darkly held secret.
Another time, she would have teased him about his melodrama and the arrogance behind it. Right now? She needed to think.
“I wasn’t expecting this. You’re this corporate guy who wears sweaters.” Only, he hadn’t been wearing them, or the jeans, so much lately.
She hadn’t really noticed, until now. Clothing didn’t matter much to her. She wasn’t her mother, or even Laura in that regard. But looking back, she realized there had been a lot of subtle changes over the past six weeks.
He dressed in suits so sharp they could have come out of the knife drawer. She hardly ever saw the more casual attire he’d been wearing when they first met. Sometimes in the evenings, but he never left the house in the morning wearing a sweater.
She never noticed him reaching to adjust glasses that weren’t there anymore, either.
Which meant what? That he was a lot more confident than she’d thought.
Okay, anyone who thought Demyan Zaretsky lacked confidence needed to take a reality check. Her included.
She didn’t know why he’d worn the glasses, but they weren’t a crutch for some deep-seated insecurity.
And honestly, did that matter right now?
“Chanel,” he prompted.
She stared at him, trying to make the difference between who he was and what he was make sense through the shock of his revelation. “You’re a prince.”
“It’s a nominal title only.”
“What does that even mean?” What she knew about royalty wouldn’t fill a page, much less a book.
“Officially, I am a duke, but I am called prince at the pleasure of my uncle, the king.”
“The one who raised you?” Still not making sense, and getting cloudier rather than clearer.
“He and Oxana raised me as a brother to Maksim, the Crown Prince. I was spare to the throne.”
“Was?”
“My cousin’s wife is expecting their first child.”
“Next in line to the throne now?”
“Yes.”
“It’s just all so strange.”
She looked around the plane, which had taken off at some point but she couldn’t have said when. Her family were all staring, making no effort to hide their interest.
Perry didn’t look surprised at all, but Andrew’s and Laura’s eyes were both saucer wide.
“Mom and Perry knew,” she guessed.
“Yes.”
“They never said.”
“They agreed my position might scare you off me. I wanted time to show you I am the man you promised to marry.”
“But you are a prince.”
“Does that change how you feel about me?” he demanded, no give for prevarication in his voice.
There were a lot of conflicting things going on inside Chanel, but this wasn’t something she was in any question about. “No. I love you, not what you are.”
“I am glad to hear it.” The relief in his tone couldn’t be faked.
“This is so cool,” Andrew said, reminding Chanel of their audience.
She frowned at her little brother. “You might think so.”
“I do, too,” Laura said.
“The only thing that matters is what you think,” Demyan said from beside her.
“The jury is still out on that one.”
“Don’t be flip.”
She glared up at him. “I’m not. I mean it. Give me some time to process.”
“Chanel—”
“No. I don’t want to talk about it right now.”
She didn’t want to talk at all, and shut down every attempt either he or her family made on the rest of the flight, going so far as to feign sleep to get them all to just leave her alone for a bit.
Life had changed so fast and she’d thought she’d come to terms with that, but Demyan was still throwing her curveballs and Chanel had never been good at sports.
* * *
Their arrival in Volyarus was less overwhelming than she might have expected given Demyan’s position.
Thankfully, there was no fanfare, no line of reporters with oversize cameras. Of course if there had been, she would have shown them all just how she’d gotten her black belt in tae kwon do, with Demyan as her unwitting assistant in the endeavor.
However, other than some official-looking men who looked like they were straight off the set of Men in Black, there were only two other people—Chanel’s mother and a beautiful woman with an unmistakable regal bearing. Queen Oxana.
Demyan guided Chanel toward the two women with his hand on the small of her back. He stopped when they were facing his aunt and he introduced them all.
The queen put her hand out to Chanel. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Demyan speaks very highly of you, as does your mother.”
Chanel did her best not to show her surprise.
She knew Beatrice was trying, but the idea she had actually complimented Chanel to the other woman was still too new to be anything but startling. Oxana had spent the past two weeks in Beatrice’s company. In the past, Chanel would have been sure the results would be catastrophic for any hopes she might have of gaining the queen’s regard.
From the look of both women, that wasn’t something she had to worry about anymore.
Unexpected and warm pleasure poured through Chanel’s heart, filling it to the brim, and she smiled at her mother before squeezing the queen’s hand. “Thank you for making Demyan a part of your family. Someone taught him how to protect the people he cares about and I think that was you.”
The lovely dark eyes widened, Oxana’s mouth parting in shock and then curving into an open smile. “I believe he will be in very good hands with you, Chanel.”
The king was waiting at the palace when they arrived, his manner more reserved and less welcoming to Chanel. She didn’t mind.
She thought she understood.
Everyone else was acting as if it was perfectly normal for a prince to get engaged after a month and married six weeks later.
Obviously,