to him soul to soul.
The deep happiness reflecting in his gaze darkened to something more serious. “Always believe that, no matter what else might come up, our marriage is about you and me. Full stop.”
“Period,” she finished, her heart filled to bursting with such love for this man.
It didn’t have to make sense, or be rational, she realized. She had fallen for him immediately and she was wholly and completely in love with him now.
They could have waited another year to marry and she wouldn’t be any surer of him than she was right now.
As her mom had said, this man was it for Chanel, the love of her life, and he felt the same. Even if he hadn’t said the words.
Even if he never did.
“I love you,” she said to him, needing to in that moment as much as she needed to breathe.
“I will treasure that gift for the rest of my life, I promise you.”
He made the vow official less than an hour later when he said it in front of the filled-to-capacity cathedral as part of the personal vows they’d agreed to speak. He also promised to care for her, respect her and support her efforts to make the world a better place through science.
Chanel, who never cried, felt hot tears tracking down her cheeks—thank goodness for her mother’s insistence on waterproof makeup—as she spoke her own personal promises, including one to love Demyan for the rest of her life.
It wasn’t hard to promise something she didn’t think she had a choice about anyway.
His name change was also acknowledged for the first time publicly during the wedding ceremony, when the Orthodox priest led them in their formalized vows before pronouncing them married.
A murmur rippled through the crowd, but Demyan seemed oblivious, his attention wholly on Chanel.
The king’s expression was filled with more emotion than Chanel thought the rather standoffish King of Volyarus capable of as he made his official acknowledgment of his son’s new married state.
Crown Prince Maksim and his wife were both gracious and clearly happy about the name change when Chanel finally met them for the reception line after the ceremony.
She’d thought it odd she hadn’t yet met Demyan’s brother and was relieved when Princess Gillian remarked on it, as well.
It had been clear from several remarks Demyan made that the two men were close. The fact Chanel hadn’t been introduced before had had her wondering if maybe the Crown Prince had disapproved of the wedding.
Only now it was obvious he hadn’t even known about the upcoming nuptials until he’d been summoned back to Volyarus by his parents. Chanel didn’t understand it, but she was the first person to admit that most politics of social interaction and even family relationships went right over her head.
Prince Maksim seemed nice enough and quite willing to accept Chanel into the family. His own wife wasn’t royalty or even nobility, so he had to have a fully modern view of marriage within his family.
Though a comment, or two, made by his wife implied otherwise.
Once they’d finished greeting those allowed into the formal reception line, the entire Yurkovich family addressed the people of Volyarus from the main balcony at the front of the palace. The king gave a speech. They all waved and smiled for what felt like hours before everyone but she and Demyan retreated inside.
He addressed the crowd, telling them how honored he was that Dame Chanel Tanner had agreed to be his wife, that he knew her ancestor Baron Tanner would have been very happy, as well.
Then he kissed Chanel.
And it wasn’t a chaste, for-the-masses kiss. Demyan took her mouth with gentle implacability, showing her and everyone watching how very pleased he was she was now officially his.
* * *
Chanel found herself separated from Demyan during the reception, but she wasn’t surprised.
He’d prepared her for the way the formal event would unfold, during which they would have very little time together. He had promised to make up for that on their wedding night and the extended honeymoon that was to follow.
What did surprise Chanel was to find herself completely without any of the people who had seemed intent on making sure she was never on her own in the highly political gathering.
Queen Oxana was occupied talking to Princess Gillian. Chanel’s mother had been waylaid by an elderly duke, while Andrew flirted with the man’s granddaughter under the watchful and not-very-happy gaze of the teen’s eagle-eyed mother. Perry was talking business in a corner somewhere—not that he was one of Chanel’s self-appointed minders.
Even Laura had lost herself in the crowd.
Chanel thought now would be the ideal time to find a quiet place to regroup a little. The crush of people was overwhelming for a scientist who spent most of her days in the lab, the mixture of so many voices sounding like a roar in her ears.
Seeing a likely hallway, she ducked out of the huge ballroom. The farther she walked along the hallway, the more muted the cacophony of voices from the ballroom became and the more tension drained from her until even her hands, which had been fisted unconsciously at her sides, uncurled.
Only as her fingers straightened did she realize how very hard she’d been holding them.
She could hear voices ahead, one whose tones she recognized with a smile. Demyan.
Delighted by the opportunity to see him amidst the chaos of her wedding day, she quickened her steps, only slowing down when she realized who he was with.
King Fedir.
The one person who intimidated Chanel and brought out her barely resolved and all-too-recent insecurities. There were two other voices as well, a woman and a man.
They were all speaking Ukrainian, thinly veiled anger resonating in at least two of the speakers’ tones.
As Chanel slowed her progress, their conversation resolved itself into actual words she could understand.
The unknown woman demanded, “How dare you humiliate us this way?”
“My actions were not intended as an insult toward you.” Demyan did not sound particularly worried the woman had taken whatever he’d done as such, though.
“How could they be taken any other way?” a man who was not the king said. “You have repudiated us before all of Volyarus.”
“I didn’t repudiate you. I aligned myself with my true family.”
“I gave you birth,” the woman said in fury.
And the identity of the other two people became clear to Chanel: Demyan’s birth parents.
“You also gave me to your brother, abdicating any responsibilities and all emotional connections to me. I am no longer your son.”
“You are not a child.” The man speaking had to be Demyan’s biological father. “You know why that was necessary.”
“I know that you traded your son for the chance at leverage over your brother-in-law, the king. I know that Fedir and Oxana needed a secondary heir to the throne, but they have always treated me as more than an expedience.”
“I’m very pleased you took our house’s name, Demyan,” the king said with sincerity. “Your parents could have avoided this surprise today by allowing Oxana and me to adopt you as a child. It was their choice not to, as you said...for their own expedience. I, for one, was joyfully surprised and I know your mother feels the same.”
Chanel smiled, pleased the outwardly cold man so obviously cared about his adopted son. Demyan said something she did not catch.
“You think you are more than an expedience to the king and queen?”