“Deban is one of the power brokers I mentioned. Be nice,” Benjic warned with a frown.
Another politician. Fantastic. Arit lifted the mug to his lips and swallowed several desperate gulps, ignoring the burn of the steaming liquid on his throat in exchange for fueling his sluggish mind with caffeine as rapidly as possible.
Nudging the evil schedule aside, Nick settled a plate piled high with meaty sandwiches in front of Arit. “I grabbed one of each kind from the buffet.” His eyes sparkled with nerves.
Arit could have told him what he ate didn’t matter. The vapid taste of livestock raised for city markets could never compare with the tender game Arit regularly hunted. Food here would nourish his body, but only that. “Thank you,” he said, though, trying to instill as much gratitude for Nick’s consideration into his reply as he could.
He ate while the politicos argued around him. The late emperor, empress, and their children would be laid to rest in the Hall of Kings with as much pomp and circumstance as the tribes could manage a few days hence, on Sunday, and Nick’s abdication ceremony would occur shortly thereafter. Both events would be televised, with Nick insisting human media networks outside the territories received full access. When Arit could be bothered to glance at his schedule, several hours had been allotted to interviews with shifter and human reporters alike. Some of those time slots were colored purple, indicating Nick would join him and thereby take the spotlight off his mate, but others, Arit was expected to handle alone. “Why do they care what I say or think about anything?” he groused.
“Of course, the people are curious about you.” Harr gaped. “You’re mating the emperor.”
“Crown Prince,” Nick corrected, taking a seat at the table with his own plate. “I’m no emperor.”
“Yet.” Benjic gulped his coffee. “Unless he’s formally crowned, referring to both Nick and Arit as Highness is proper. After coronation, Nick would be addressed as His Majesty and Arit as Imperial Consort.” The elder sniffed in irritation. “Although I’m sure His Highness will confer additional titles on his mate, as is historically the practice of royalty, he hasn’t yet. Your brother has no rank at all—the Your Grace designation is inappropriate.”
Arit blinked at his sire’s unfair criticism of Nick. “We’ve been mated, like, two days.”
Nick swallowed the bite he’d taken of his own sandwich. “I assume you entertain preferences for the titles Arit should be awarded?”
“Grand Duke of the Urals.” Benjic grunted. “Not High Alpha of the tribe. The family who seized power in the mountains after my dad’s death has done an exemplary job leading the Ural packs, and Arit would hate governing anyway. Making my son a grand duke won’t interfere with the hierarchy of power yet will neatly recognize our ancestral contribution to the tribe.”
“Only if I acknowledge you as my sire.” Foul temper stirred inside Arit. “Which I don’t.”
“Whether you’ll admit it or not, everyone is fully aware you’re my son. Goddess knows you’re as stubborn as I ever was.” Benjic growled. “Maybe worse.”
“He’s right.” Next to him, Harr shrugged. “You are an open secret in the capitol. Outsiders aren’t privy to gossip and political intrigues, nor citizens in the outer territories, but here, everyone knows.”
The elder glared at Arit. “Denying my claim on you only makes you look like a fool.”
“Denying you has allowed me to retain some small shred of privacy in the Urals,” Arit argued, “and it reminds your political flunkies you were a lousy sire whose insult and injury to the mate you abandoned—my dad—has not been forgotten.”
Benjic leapt to his feet and pounded the table with his fist. “If Emyn can forgive me, why won’t you?”
Eyebrow arching, Nick reached for his sandwich. “Regardless. If I’m ever crowned and thereby free to convey titles, I’ll certainly take everyone’s feelings into consideration.”
“You are days away from stepping down from the throne unless matters change.” Across the table, Belia harrumphed. “May I suggest we concentrate on the memorial and meeting with other elders sympathetic to our cause?”
“Yes. Let’s.” Stiff as cordwood, Benjic retook his seat and sneered at his laptop. “You’re due in the cathedral near the Winter Palace this afternoon to go over staging for the memorial.”
“Some elders—primarily extremists—plan to boycott the practice walk-through and the funeral as a mark of protest.” Harr leaned forward. “Most won’t, though. My sire arranged a meeting with them after. Many are friendly to retaining you as emperor in some form, and the others are persuadable if assurances are given your rule would be shared equally between the crown and leaders chosen by the people.”
“The same arrangement my parents struggled to negotiate to divert the rebellion in the first place.” Under the table, Nick threaded his fingers in Arit’s free hand. The tight smile he flashed the elders gave no indication of his mate’s distress, though.
“They were betrayed.” The small hairs on Arit’s arms stood on end. “By some of the same elders professing support for Nick.”
Benjic’s shoulders rose and fell in a diffident shrug. “I never claimed the game wasn’t dangerous.”
Arit turned to Nick. “Your adopted brother, Rolan? And your human? They are on their way to the capitol?”
“Cell phone reception is notoriously spotty in the outer territories, but I think Benjic managed to get a text through to him and Lydia.” Nick sighed. “If not, the news reporting the day of the state funeral and abdication ceremony will have reached them by now. They’ll be here. I expect them or a call from one of them any time.”
He hoped so. Because, although Arit had brought as many of the lodge’s staff from the Urals as he could, and Nick’s security team added several extra men to that number, the ones protecting Nick who Arit trusted were too few to guarantee history wouldn’t repeat by giving the tribes another dead emperor. Nick needed Rolan, Lydia, and every other friend whose loyalty was beyond question he could get.
Beneath the table, out of sight of their audience, Arit squeezed his mate’s hand in his grasp. “Okay.”
Chapter Twelve