His uncle’s words rang true, particularly when weighed against how few of Demyan’s father’s efforts had met with support of the king since he’d become an adult. “I get my ruthlessness from him.”
“But your honor is all your own. You are a better man than either of your fathers, the one by birth and the one by choice.”
Fedir was not a man who gave empty compliments. So, Demyan couldn’t help that the older man’s words sparked emotion deep inside, but he wasn’t about to admit that out loud.
“Oxana feels the same. She is very proud of both of her sons.”
He thought of the excitement the queen had shown when Demyan had warned her that he’d found the one. “She wouldn’t be proud of me if she knew why I’m pursuing Chanel.”
“You’re wrong. I am very proud of you.” Oxana came into the room from the secret passageway entrance. “You have put the welfare of our people and your family ahead of your own happiness. How can I be anything but proud of that?”
Fedir started, clearly shocked his wife had been listening in.
“She’s a special woman. She deserves a real marriage.” It wasn’t a sentiment Demyan would have expressed to Fedir without prompting, but this was Oxana.
She’d sacrificed her entire life for their country and her family. Yet she was not a bitter woman. She loved them all deeply, if not overtly. She deserved to know that Demyan wasn’t going to play Chanel for the sake of her inheritance.
“So, give her one.” Oxana smiled with the same guarded approval she’d given him since he was a boy, though as he’d grown older he’d learned to look deeper for the true emotion. It was there. “She is a very lucky woman to have you.”
Since he wasn’t about to comment on the latter and the former was Demyan’s plan, he merely nodded.
“That’s not a reasonable request,” Fedir said forcefully.
“For you, we all know that is true. But Demyan is a different man. A better man, by your own admission.”
Fedir scowled at his wife of more than three decades. “He is our son. How can you demand he sacrifice the rest of his life for the sake of this girl’s feelings?”
“How can you ask him to sacrifice his personal integrity to save our country?” Oxana countered, deigning to look at Fedir.
“He is not being dishonest.”
“Oh, so you’ve told Chanel about her inheritance?” Oxana asked Demyan.
But he knew she wasn’t talking to him, not really, so he didn’t answer with so much as a shake of his head.
“How do you know about it?” Fedir asked Oxana, with shock lacing his usually forceful tones.
“It is in the historical archives for anyone to read.”
“Anyone with access to the private files.”
“I am queen. I get access.”
Fedir opened his mouth and then shut it again without a word being uttered, his face settling into a frown.
Oxana turned to face Demyan, effectively cutting Fedir out of the conversation. “Promise me one thing.”
“Yes.” He didn’t have to ask what it was. He trusted Oxana in a way he didn’t trust anyone besides Maks.
If she wanted a promise, he would give it to her.
“Don’t tell this woman, Chanel Tanner, that you love her unless you mean it. Love isn’t a bartering tool.”
“She loves me.” Chanel hadn’t said so, but he was sure of it.
It’s what he’d been working toward since he’d first walked into her office.
“No doubt. You are an eminently lovable man, but you owe it to her and to your own sense of honor not to lie about something so important.”
“I never lied to you,” Fedir inserted.
“Nothing has ever hurt as much as realizing Fedir had only said the words to convince me to give him the heir he needed for the throne.”
“I did love you. I do love you.”
Oxana spun to face her husband, but not her lover. “Like a sister. The few times you shared my bed, you called out her name at the critical moment.”
This was so much more than Demyan wanted to know, but he saw no way of extricating himself from the situation. He could walk out easily enough, but he wouldn’t leave Oxana to face the aftereffects of the emotional bloodletting that had been decades in the making.
“You knew about Bhodana from the beginning.”
“You told me you loved me. I thought that meant you were going to let her go.”
“I never promised you that.”
“No, you were very careful not to.”
“Oxana.”
She waved her hand, dismissing him and his words as she turned back to Demyan. “You promise me, be the better man. Do not make declarations you don’t mean.”
“You have my word.”
“I look forward to meeting her.”
“I didn’t plan to bring her here before the wedding.”
“You don’t want to scare her away.”
“No.” Unlike many women, Chanel was less likely to marry a prince than a normal man. “I’ve taken great care not to frighten her off.”
“Does she know the real you?” Oxana asked.
He thought about their time in bed, intimacy during which his plans flew straight to heaven in the face of his body’s response to Chanel. He’d try to convince himself that it would only be the first time, but subsequent sessions of lovemaking had proven otherwise.
“Yes,” Demyan said. “She may not realize it, but definitely.”
“Then all will be well. She is marrying the man you are at your core, Demyan, my son, not your title or the corporate shark who runs our company’s operations so efficiently.”
He hoped once Chanel saw his true persona and position, she would agree with her future mother-in-law. It was the one element to his plan that he could not be absolutely sure about.
With another woman, maybe, but with Chanel...learning he was a de facto prince could turn her right off him.
* * *
Excited anticipation buzzed through Chanel as the limousine taking her to meet Demyan rolled through the wet streets of Seattle.
His flight had arrived that morning, but he’d had a full day of meetings. Thankfully he’d told her about them before she offered to take a vacation day to spend with him.
Needy much?
She cringed at how much she’d missed him and was fairly certain allowing him to see the extent of it might not be the best thing to do. Even someone as socially inept as Chanel realized that.
Still, it had been hard to play it cool and agree to let him send a driver for her without gushing over the idea of seeing him tonight and not having to wait until tomorrow.
They were attending an avant-garde live theater production downtown. No dinner. Demyan’s schedule had not permitted.
Chanel was just glad he hadn’t put off seeing her, but he’d seemed almost as eager to be with her as she felt about seeing him again. Considering the number of times their short phone call had been interrupted, she knew he’d had to force a slot into his schedule for her.
Knowing she was going to see him had made focusing on