Zar finished his phone call and came over to them. “I’m sorry, Marc. Anna and I have to go. Text me if you need anything.”
Marc nodded and they left.
Anna glanced at Zar’s profile; his face was devoid of emotion. Something had happened. “What is it?” she asked, keeping her voice down.
“I’ll show you in the car.” His tone was glacial.
This wasn’t good.
They had to walk through an open door to the public area on the main floor before they could reach the stairwell that would take them to the parking garage. A crowd of people, many with large, fancy cameras, was milling about. Until they spotted Anna and Zar, then they became laser-focused on the doctor and the prince.
Shouts of, “When is the wedding?” and “Does the queen approve?” seemed to come from every direction. Bodies followed the voices, coming in too fast and too close.
Zar moved around so he blocked the worst offenders, but she was still jostled around like a bottle in a stormy sea.
Wedding? What were they talking about?
It took longer to get to the car than it had taken to get from the car to the hospital. She didn’t breathe easy until Zar was in the driver’s seat and pulling them away from the horde of photographers.
“Why were they asking about a wedding?” She asked.
He held out his phone to her.
She swiped the screen and a photograph with a large caption that read Prince Zar Proposes! filled the screen. The photo had been taken while she’d sat in the chair after almost passing out. Zar was on one knee and had a hand on her shoulder while the other cupped her face.
“Huh, it does look kind of romantic, in a you nearly collapsed kind of way.”
“My mother is not happy.”
“I don’t blame her. She probably has some foreign princess in mind for you.”
“What?” Zar’s frown got even harsher. “No, she doesn’t. No, she’s mad because if I had proposed, I should have done it in a more suitable setting and not while you were wearing hospital clothing.”
Wait. “She’s worried about the optics of it, not the proposal itself?”
“Yes.”
“But...but...” she sputtered. “You didn’t propose. You were just keeping me from falling face-first onto the floor.”
He shook his head. “It’s too late to explain now.”
“No, it isn’t. You just tell those photographers what you were really doing.”
“That isn’t news, Anna.” He glanced at her like she was being ridiculous. “Unless you break my heart in public, the press and public are going to hang onto the possibility of a royal wedding with both hands.”
“Well, that’s just...ridiculous.”
“Yes, a little, but we need those people to keep the terrorists from being suspicious. A wedding is an excellent distraction.”
“So, what, we’re just going to go along with the old fake engagement ploy?” When he just smiled at her. She asked, “You seriously want to pretend we’re getting married?”
“That seems like the wisest course of action.”
“Wise?” She couldn’t believe it. What was he thinking? “It’s crazy.”
The corners of his mouth drooped just a little. “Would it really be so bad to be engaged to me?”
No, it would be wonderful to be engaged to him, except for the part about her being an entirely, completely unacceptable wife.