by Aldrea Alien
Hamish shook his head. “Dinnae be so prissy.” His arms encircled Darshan’s waist and pulled them together.
A gasp slithered through Darshan’s teeth at the iciness of the man’s belt buckle against his bare abdomen. Before he could compose himself, his lover’s lips were upon his, powerful and yearning.
Darshan parted his lips slightly, a shudder passing through him when the expected passionate invasion of Hamish’s tongue wasn’t forthcoming. Instead, his lover tilted his head and obliterated all thought with several slow, open-mouthed kisses.
His legs wobbled anew and he became exceedingly aware that the only reason he stood upright at all was because of Hamish. Not that he would’ve minded dropping to his knees. His lover’s trousers might be on now, but such a state could be changed swiftly enough.
Darshan closed his eyes. With any other man, he wouldn’t have dared allow them such leniency with his person, but there was something about this one that echoed inside him, made him feel… safe. A foolish thought given they had met only a few days ago.
Nevertheless, he wrapped his arms around his lover’s broad shoulders, clinging to the linen at the nape of Hamish’s neck, and basked in the warmth surrounding the man.
Once they had parted enough for more to leave their lips than muffled attempts at sound, a single word slipped free of Darshan’s mouth. “Stay.” It escaped on a breath. A wisp of a wish. A plea.
Hamish stepped back. “I cannae do that.”
Fool, he silently berated himself. Darshan pressed his fingers to his lips as if it would rescind what had already been spoken. Of course Hamish couldn’t linger. Even though their previous search had turned up nothing, the guards could return. “You know,” he mumbled around his fingers. “If you joined me when I returned to Udynea, you would never have to worry about this sort of intervention again.”
Hamish paused in opening the door. “You daft?” he enquired, laughing. He smiled over his shoulder, the curve of those full lips weary and restrained. “I cannae leave.”
“Why not?” Despite her own judgement on the matter, surely a Queen could see merit in allowing one of her children to have connections in the heart of political allies. “Is it the language? Our history? I could teach you everything you would need to know.” Oh, if one of his tutors could hear that. He’d never been the most diligent student, focusing only what he absolutely had to, but he was more than capable of teaching the man how to speak Udynean.
Further amusement deepened the fine wrinkles around those sapphiric eyes. Hamish shook his head. “Goodnight, Dar.”
“Meet me in the library come sunrise,” he called out as his lover slipped from the room. His Nanny Daama would’ve thought that a riot, too. Especially given that he rarely stirred from his bed before midmorning back home.
He barely knew Hamish, was painfully aware of that fact, but the thought of leaving him here to live such an uncertain life almost broke his heart. Witnessing the guards hunting such a gentle man as if he was a petty thief only solidified his resolve.
~~~
Hamish swayed a little as he made his way through the halls. That’d been quite the drop the man had suspended him over. Thank the Goddess the spellster’s shield had held out as long as it had. But where had Darshan gotten the strength to pull Hamish back through the window?
And what had been behind the sudden talk of leaving to the Udynea Empire with the man? Had Darshan been serious about that? To be somewhere he could be himself without reprimand or judgement. But what would he do there? He could hardly rely on Darshan’s generosity forever.
And what of Ethan? He couldn’t leave his nephew. Not now. Not when he had promised Nora he would be there to direct all of their mother’s attention away from her grandson, to let the boy have the innocent life Hamish hadn’t the luxury of living. He shouldn’t have to be a shield for the lad, but if she found out…
Well, neither of his siblings was entirely sure what their mother would do, only that it wouldn’t bode well for the boy.
The murmur of voices caught his ear. Guards. He flattened himself against the wall, resting his head back on the stone as he listened to the chatter. Not quite loud enough to make out more than the odd word. Not getting any louder, either. Nor, sadly, fainter.
That could only mean, rather than continue to scour the castle for him, they had returned to their post outside his room to wait him out. He had become accustomed to waking and readying himself for the new day before the guards could burst in, so knew they’d still be there hours later. And it was possible they believed him to have returned to the room before them, for they didn’t regularly check if he was inside, but he couldn’t be certain until later.
How was he going to make it past them?
“Still out on our little night-time foray, are we?”
The sound of his brother’s voice drew his gaze. A shadow moved in the gloom of the corridor leading towards the rest of their family’s quarters.
Relief weakened Hamish’s limbs. “I thought you would’ve gone to bed.” Unlike Nora, who preferred late nights of silence in the library, Gordon leant towards rising with the sun.
Gordon smirked and leant in the archway. “Well, I figured you’d need the help and, that if you were to come back here alone from his imperial highness’ room, this would be the fastest route to take. I also came to the conclusion that you were too busy enjoying yourself to bother sticking to the plan.”
Hamish grinned. “Nae exactly, but you see I—”
His brother held up a hand as he straightened. “You ken I dinnae want to hear what me brother’s been up to.” Gordon peered around the corner. “I see Mum’s guards are still in place. I’m surprised they havenae started looking for you.”
“They did.” In hushed tones, he regaled his brother with what had transpired with the guards back in the guest quarters, omitting just how Darshan had hidden him. And the fact it had also nearly gotten the both of them killed. “But if I’m nae in there before sunrise, then I’m going to be in trouble.” The next stage of his mother’s punishments would likely involve a permanent escort in, as well as outside, the castle grounds.
“I wouldnae be too sure about that. If you can promise me to be a little more discreet in future, I’ll help get you past them.”
He nodded. More discreet was something he could certainly do. Although, getting Darshan to cooperate there might take a little trial and error on both their parts. “How are we doing this? Injury?” No, that might be a little tricky to pull off this late.
His brother hummed thoughtfully. “That depends… How drunk can you act?”
We’re going for that one, are we? It had been a favoured excuse ever since they were young men. And generally a truth of sorts when Hamish used to frequent the pubs. Not that he’d been in such a state recently. “Right now?” Grinning, Hamish draped an arm over his brother’s shoulders. “Immensely well, but acting willnae get us anywhere without smelling the part.”
Gordon narrowed his eyes. He pulled out a small flask and uncorked it. The heady scent of dark ale drifted up between them. “A little drink ought to be enough.” His brother took a few deep swallows before handing it over. “Be sure to spill a little on yourself.”
“I can figure that out for meself,” he mumbled. This wasn’t the first time they had duped the guards this way. Whether or not they would be caught was highly dependent on their mother’s orders. “What do you think?”
Gordon wrinkled his nose and took a hesitant sniff. “You smell like a brewery.” His brother eyed Hamish’s clothes. “And you look like you’ve been brawling. What in the name of the Goddess happened to you? Did you fall down some stairs on the way back?”
Hamish shook his head and lightly brushed the dirt from a sleeve. “Tumbled in through a window.” Glancing up, he spied the faint tightening of the wrinkles around his brother’s eyes, that deep green colour almost lost beneath his lashes. “I’ll explain later,” he added before Gordon demanded the whole stor
y right then and there.
“You had better,” his brother growled, his lips barely moving beneath his thick moustache. Gordon wrapped one of Hamish’s arms around his neck. “Dinnae hang on me too much, I’m nae as spry as I used to be.”
“Bollocks,” Hamish replied, laughing. Even after a little over four decades, his brother could keep up with the best of the guards and outmatched a good deal of the rest.
They rounded the corridor corner with Hamish deliberately swaying and bumping into his brother. The guards were already facing them, illuminated by the warm light of two lanterns hanging either side of Hamish’s bedchamber door. No doubt the men had been tipped off by the noise of his unsteady stomping.
Ranulf, a warrior of the royal standing army that their mother had elected for the post, seemed particularly disgusted with their arrival. Those dark eyes narrowed further as Hamish neared until the man peered at him through slits. He carded his fingers through his black beard, but said nothing.
“Hello there, lads!” Gordon called. He tugged slightly on Hamish’s belt, pulling them to one side and back in what could only be seen as a drunken-looking stagger. “Has me mum got you guarding empty rooms now?” They lurched to a stop before the trio. “Or did you think this sot was inside?”
Ranulf straightened. “Your highnesses.” The warrior snapped a salute, likely more for Gordon than Hamish. “We were nae told your brother was with you.”
“Did you think to ask? We’ve been down at the Roaring Stag for a good part of the night.” Gordon patted Hamish’s chest, thumping just hard enough. “Would’ve been home sooner, but as you can see, me brother took a tumble off his horse on the way up. At a walk, nae less.” He barked a laugh and opened the door into Hamish’s room.
“Sure,” one of the other guards mumbled as Gordon guided Hamish through the doorway. The man’s face wasn’t one Hamish recognised. The unadorned band of leather around his bicep indicated him as a lowly swordsman in the army.
Had the man seen something earlier? Terror clogged Hamish’s throat. He didn’t believe anyone had seen him clinging for dear life outside the guest chambers, but it wasn’t exactly implausible. All it would’ve taken was for someone to look up.
Gordon halted in the doorway, fisting Hamish’s clothes in an effort to keep them steady as he slowly faced the guards. “A mighty piece of insinuation you’ve got in that tone there, lad. You dinnae believe me?”
Frowning, Ranulf nudged the man. “Answer your prince, swordsman.”
“N-nae, I—” The man shook his head, his barely-tanned face losing all colour. He bowed low. “I wouldnae dare accuse you of such, your highness.”
Gordon gave the man a curt nod. “I’ll just see me brother to bed, then. Cannae have him collapsing in the middle of the room.” He took up one of the lanterns and shuffled Hamish through the doorway.
The door clicked shut behind them.
“I cannae believe you got away with that,” Hamish muttered. He released his brother, taking a few lurching steps towards the bed before regaining his balance.
“Neither can I.” Gordon leant against the bedpost. “So, we’ve had our fill now? Because when you said you’d be sneaking off to spend time with him, I didnae think it’d be all bloody night.”
“It’s still dark.” After midnight, sure, but that meant only a few hours over the agreed-upon time. “And it wasnae meant to be that long.” Certainly not long enough to be in the position of almost being caught in the guest quarters. “I sort of… fell asleep.”
His brother arched a brow at him. “Was he that boring?”
Hamish shook his head, laughter bubbling in his chest. Boring was as about as far from how he would’ve described it as language went. He flopped back onto his bed, his arms spread across its length. “I think I’m in love.”
“Love?” Gordon echoed, pushing off the bedpost. “You met him four days ago.” He held up as many fingers in emphasis. “In that time you two have spent—what?—maybe the grand total of a day in each other’s presence? What you’re feeling is nae love.”
Maybe his brother was right, but Gordon hadn’t kissed the man. He hadn’t tasted the ancient fire in Darshan’s touch; a flame hotter than the sun, burning through sheer desperation and determination, radiating warmth from its very core. Nor had his brother felt the strength in which the spellster had clung to Hamish after dragging him through the window, heart-stopping fear lingering in those tight muscles.
“Fine,” he muttered. “If the lack of time with him bothers you, then find me way to spend more with him. I’ve already got tomorrow morning solved. He wants to meet with me in the library.”
“As if that doesnae sound ominous or anything.”
Hamish chuckled, throwing an arm over his eyes. “He said… something before I left,” he mumbled. Had Darshan meant it, though? Or had he just been trying to see how Hamish would react? “He was talking about me travelling to Minamist with him after the negotiations.” Whenever that finally happen depended largely on his mother opting to be in the same room as the ambassador she now seemed to outright loathe.
Perhaps backing off for a few days would give the illusion of Darshan abiding by her rules. It had always been the reasonable way to alleviate any suspicions his mother might’ve had about him and his brother sneaking out to be with whichever man fancied a few minutes with Hamish.
“Do you want to go?”
Hamish peered at his brother from beneath the crook of his elbow. Do I? He’d be far from home, literally on the opposite end of the continent. But like Darshan had said, he wouldn’t be constantly looking over his shoulder for his mother’s guards, wouldn’t need to worry at all.
He shrugged. “Maybe.” There were other reasons to stay, one very small and impressionable reason.
“What makes you even think it’ll work?” his brother pressed, annoyance creeping into his voice and creasing his forehead. “You go to Minamist with a man you barely ken and then what?”
“You sound like Mum,” he grumbled, pushing himself upright until he was perched on the side of the bed.
“I’m trying to be practical. What would you do in Udynea?” Gordon nudged him. “Besides the obvious. Or do you fancy yourself just as his bedwarmer?”
He glared at his brother. Darshan wouldn’t traipse him all that way just for one reason. Although… What had the man said? Never worry about any intervention on his sexual preferences? Darshan hadn’t specified Hamish’s time there had to be spent with him. He wasn’t entirely sure if that meant the man wouldn’t care if Hamish chose another over him, but he didn’t see any reason to find out.
“We dinnae have an ambassador in their lands,” Hamish mumbled, his mind only half on the topic. That was part of the reason why Udynea had sent one to them, why his mother allowed a foreign spellster to enter the kingdom. Nora had offered to travel to Minamist—via horse, which would’ve taken several months—but their mother had refused. “I could go.” There was nothing to tie him here; no wife or children. “He could teach me the language.”
His brother gave a noncommittal grunt. “Even if you could convince Mum to let you travel such a distance from the castle…”
Hamish hung his head. The occasional trip to the spellster cloister was at the limits of their mother’s tolerance of her children’s journeys. She had only gotten worse with the death of her older grandchildren—taken at the hungry jaws of bears or the watery talons of the sea. Whilst the strict nature of the rule often fell on him, none of the royal family could leave the castle confines for more than a few weeks.
Gordon scrubbed at his face. “Did you tell him anything?”
“Aye,” he sighed. “I told him I cannae leave.” There was more keeping him here than his mother’s arbitrary rules.
“I dinnae see how you could without Mum dragging you back, but I ken you’re nae happy here, ‘Mish. Everyone can see that. Maybe you should go.”
Hamish shook his head. “You ken why I cannae just up and leave.
If Mum finds out about—”
“Ethan?” His brother scoffed. “The lad’s barely seen ten winters. You cannae use him as an excuse for the past.”
Hamish ground his teeth. His brother was right. Being both diversion and shield to keep their mother’s attention off her grandson had only given him an easy excuse to remain.
He could’ve run a long time ago, back before Gordon’s wife and eldest daughter had met their grisly fates, before the trade ship, The Princess’ Fortune, had fallen afoul of a storm and taken more of his family with it. But— “Where would I have gone?” This was the first time he’d been offered a chance at a life that wasn’t just running and hiding.
Gordon sighed. “Look, Mum will learn eventually that Ethan likes his own sort and when she does, you’ll have wasted your life for nothing. Do you really think that’s what he’d want?”
Nae at all. If anything, the boy would be disappointed in him. “I dinnae ken what to do.”
“How about starting small?” Gordon clapped him on the back. “And perhaps leave out any romantic declarations until you ken a little more about him?”
Hamish inclined his head. He could keep his mouth shut on that subject well enough. More time getting to know Darshan would either see him repelling such feelings or strengthening them. And he could start with whatever conversation the spellster wished to have in the library come sunrise.
Hamish pushed open the library door. He wasn’t ashamed to admit he hadn’t ventured into the room since his childhood days, preferring the freedom of hunting and ensuring the people in the surrounding farms had a means to air any misgivings. The library always seemed dark. It also bore a mustiness that he couldn’t help comparing to a closed mind. This was a tomb to history and tradition. New ideas weren’t formed here.
In the early light of dawn, the richly dark wood of the bookshelves were illuminated only by the glow of a single lantern resting atop a table. Darshan stood near the light source, his attention taken by a particularly thick tome. He alternated between tapping his forefinger against his lips and chewing on a nail as he read, pausing only to turn a page.