That hadn’t stopped Nick from stripping down to his boxers in the privacy of his rooms. Otherwise, only the locket gleamed at this throat. Arit’s hungry stare drank in bare shoulders taut with muscle and the broad expanse of his mate’s chest sprinkled with wisps of golden hair. Nick’s stomach didn’t boast the six-pack abs Arit’s did, but Nick made his living as a small business manager, not by the sweat of his brow as an adventure tour guide. Still flat, though, not an ounce of him softening around his middle. Lean hips capped long, toned legs. Arit’s pulse hum with avid interest at even the prince’s naked feet.
Thankfully, Nick didn’t turn to him. Nick’s attention focused on the craggy mountain peaks revealed by the window, both the heavy drapes and lace sheers pushed aside and anchored out of the way by antique jeweled tiebacks. “My bloodline never built a palace in the Urals, but I visited frequently from the time I was too young to understand why Mother and Father would make cultivating my fondness for this particular territory a priority.” He splayed his fingers against the glass. “I missed this place. After.” He sighed, shoulders drooping. “Dad and Mom settled in the borderlands on the other side of the Urals, not far from where we stand. My home is probably no more than two or three days’ run from the town you probably trade with. My human parents chose to sink roots near the tribes after the war to soothe Rolan and I with an environment at least somewhat familiar to us, but…”
It wasn’t the same. Having crossed the high places to smuggle goods to and from the lands of men, Arit had witnessed the evidence with his own eyes. Where the tribes ruled, the land was as wild as ever, but humans had developed their piece of the borderlands with McMansions and tourist traps that had given no consideration to preserving the natural resources Arit and his people prized. “You refer to the emperor and empress as Mother and Father.” Unable to resist, Arit crossed the casual seating area of the suite to join Nick at the windows. “But you call the humans who adopted you Mom and Dad.”
“You caught that distinction, did you? I’m not surprised. You’re exceptionally perceptive.” The corners of Nick’s full, ripe lips curved. “Eton and Olina loved their children, but as rulers, they owed their first allegiance and duty to the tribes. We children were the same. Any of us would have sacrificed everything for our people.” He huffed a laugh. “I suppose we proved we valued the tribes higher than our lives, in the end.”
“I wondered. Many have.” Unwelcome arousal seeped into Arit, warming him against a hardy gust that blew through the windows. “You could have escaped.”
“If we’d only cared about surviving, we would have tried, yes, and some of us likely would have succeeded, but for what purpose? To continue in luxurious if helpless exile while the tribes suffered?” Nick snorted, spiking Arit’s frustration when Nick yet again displayed his nervous tic of reaching for the mysterious locket. “When the rebels claimed they wanted peace with the White Army, insisted sharing power was their singular ambition, we believed them. To our ruin, we hoped. Eton and Olina risked much for the sake of our people, and we all lost their bet. They were my parents, though. I loved them. I still do.”
Arit nodded. “The humans who rescued you wouldn’t have gambled your lives?”
“Every decision the Goodes made was dictated by whatever they believed would keep me and my brother safe, healthy, and happy.” For the first time since Arit entered the suite, Nick glanced at him. “Paul and Rosalind weren’t royalty, of course. They enjoyed freedoms Eton and Olina hardly dared imagine.”
“You loved the humans who fostered you.”
“They didn’t foster me. They raised me. Protected me. Taught me a different way to live and to be a better man.” Nick shrugged. “Paul and Rosalind Goode were parents to me, as my birth parents could never be.”
The puzzle of the crown prince’s affection for the humans, honoring them alongside the empress and emperor who’d birthed him into monarchy, was in part what had compelled him to seek out Nick. Despite the countless reasons coming to the imperial suite was an unnecessary and stupid risk, Arit stood next to Nick because Arit must know, had to ask. “You rejected Benjic’s offer to retain the throne. Why?” He fidgeted. “Was it because of them? Your humans?”
“You suspect I love my human parents more than the family of my birth.” Frowning, Nick rubbed his thumb over the locket. “Is that the gossip circling the tribe? The suggestion I might betray my people because I love my adopted parents too well?”
He had wondered, and Arit wasn’t the only one. Did Nick love his humans enough to give up an empire? “Do you?”
“Love isn’t a finite quantity.” Nick chuckled. “It isn’t pie. When I gave my adopted parents a slice, that didn’t mean there was less remaining for the parents I lost.”
Frustrated at the prince’s shallow platitudes, Arit shoved his hands into his front pockets, which made grabbing Nick less tempting at least. “Then why? Why give up your throne if not for love of your humans and the life you built among them?”
“I’m proud of my adopted family and what we, together, have achieved. No matter what happens during my visit with the tribes, never mistake that.” Nick turned to face Arit, mirroring Arit’s pose by perching his hands on his hips. “There is nothing I wouldn’t do for Rosalind Goode or my brother. I grieved the loss of my second father, Paul, as deeply as I mourned the murders of Eton, Olina, and my brothers and sisters.” He bunched and unbunched his shoulders. “I fell into the business after college, while I was still struggling with what I wanted to do with the shiny new marketing degree I’d earned, but when Mom invited me to buy into The Stitchery as an equal partner, I snatched the opportunity with both hands.” His stare swept the dim suite. “You joined your family business, too.”