by Aldrea Alien
Almost reluctant to disturb the man, Hamish padded through the doorway and inched the door shut behind him.
Darshan glanced up, visibly startled for a breath before a wide grin took his face. “You came.” He snapped the book shut and trotted to Hamish’s side. “I was beginning to think the worst.” That hazel gaze scrutinised him, small and quick, but definitely with a degree of worry tightening the edges. No mistake there. “How are you this morning, mea lux?”
“All right.” What had the man just called him? Although he couldn’t seem to grasp languages like his siblings, he had picked up a smattering of what Udynean sounded like, mostly from sailors passing through. Whatever Darshan had uttered, the words didn’t have the same resonance of any language he’d heard before.
“No trouble with the guards last night, then?” Darshan swung to indicate the lantern-lit table before Hamish could answer. “Come.”
“Me brother showed up before the guards became a problem,” he mumbled, eyeing the table as he tailed the man. A few books were scattered across the dark wood surface. What had Darshan been researching?
“I did not expect him to have waited so long.”
“Neither did I,” he admitted. Not when he hadn’t recruited Gordon’s aid for some years. The fact Darshan was both an ambassador and an imperial prince likely set a fire under his brother’s arse when it came to them being caught.
As briefly as Hamish could manage, especially with Darshan snickering at some parts, he relayed what had transpired after leaving the guest quarters.
Sighing, Darshan settled into a padded chair. “It is a relief to hear you made it back to your bedchamber all right. I would not have been able to sit idly by if you were punished for my mistake.”
Hamish shook his head. “We made that mistake together.”
“Still… I shall endeavour to be more careful.” The faintest twitch of Darshan’s fingers had a stool skittering out from underneath the table. “Please, sit. I shall get a dreadful crick in my neck if we talk for much longer this way.”
Smirking, Hamish straddled the stool. “Were you studying?” Now he was closer, he could spy several of the books’ spines. Customs, for the most part, and a few slim books that he’d hazard a guess were either on the topography of Tirglas or outlined her various ore resources. “I dinnae think you asked me here for that.” Darshan had to know that Nora was far better at trade. “What was it you mentioned me doing last night?” He remembered bits of it since waking, the rest floating on the edge of comprehension like a dream.
“Ambassadorship,” Darshan replied, thumbing through the book he had been reading when Hamish arrived. He continued in a rambling tone whilst searching. “Throughout all the talks of peace and trade between our lands, there has been no offer of a Tirglasian taking up the rather vacant ambassador position in Minamist and…” He trailed off. In the ruddy lantern light, it was difficult to tell if Darshan was blushing, but there was a glassy edge to his smile. “And I am probably just repeating common knowledge to you, correct?”
“Somewhat.” He had always thought there was an envoy of some sort in the beginning, but that might’ve been the Udyneans once again extending a hand in peace.
Nodding, Darshan halted in flipping through the book to lay a hand on the open pages. “I have been looking for—hoping to find, I guess is the better term for it—something in your customs to aid me in convincing Queen Fiona that your kingdom’s ambassador should be you.” He slid the book to one side. “Of course, it would require you to learn the language, an ambassador who needs a translator is more hindrance than help, but I thought I could… Well, teach you.”
Hamish rocked on his seat, catching himself as he recollected the stool had no back. “Me?” So the man had been serious. “I dinnae ken the first thing about politics.” That was never what he had been destined for. His brother would be king and Sorcha, Gordon’s daughter, would follow. “Nora would be better.” Even she would only take the throne if both his brother and niece died before the girl could birth an heir, and there were all three of Hamish’s nephews who were in line well before himself.
“I did briefly consider enquiring about having your sister fill the position,” Darshan confessed. “Seeing her verbally battling it out amongst those in the Crystal Court would have been a marvellous sight, make no mistake there. However…” He tapped his thumb on the page. “If we are to think logically on this, that choice does come with certain complications. Three of them, to be exact. The distance is great and I would never consider asking a mother to leave her children, but I rather doubt bringing them with her is a viable option.”
“You’d be correct in that thinking. Those of the royal bloodline dinnae leave the castle for more than a few weeks at any given time.” It was a tradition that his mother had been lax on, up until the death of two of her grandchildren. She had then clamped down harder than most in the past.
Where he had once been allowed to venture well beyond the lands belonging to the royal clan, now he could barely reach its border. Even the nearest cloister was just within range and, given the road leading there was a small one used by farmers, reaching it in time largely depended on not being held up by weather or injury. Not that his mother cared. She liked that the cloister was far from them. It meant the spellster influence was well out of reach.
Frowning, Darshan gave a noncommittal hum. “I read as much. I must say, it is a most peculiar stance to make. If you had attempted such in Udynea, the Mhanek could swiftly lose all his heirs in a single coup. It is far harder for any conquering force to maintain power after usurping the throne when they must contend with the prospect of being attacked by the rightful heirs from anywhere across the land.”
Hamish shrugged. There’d been plenty of revolutions on the royal bloodline. Granted, a few centuries had passed since the last attempt, but his mother preferred to be vigilant. “Is that why your father sent you here? Because it’s far?” Only in crossing the icy waters between Tirglas and the frozen lands of the north could a man get any further from the Udynean capital of Minamist.
A faint smirk curled Darshan’s lips. “In a way,” he murmured, his gaze sliding back to the open book. “I was hoping you would be able to help me or, at the very least, I could teach you a few simple Udynean words.”
“I cannae help you with any of our laws.” If he could trust Nora not to go blabbing the idea of him as an ambassador to their mother the instant she was out of sight, then maybe convincing her would be worth a try, but attempting it alone would be a waste of time. “In all honesty, I’m shocked you’ve given it this much contemplation.” Scratching at his jaw, a burst of uncontrolled laughter escaped his mouth. “I thought you were joking.”
Like a door slamming shut in the wind, soft emotion fled Darshan’s face. He sat stiffly upright in his chair, eyeing Hamish as if the man expected him to turn into a surly mother bear. “I… can see how my words could be interpreted as jesting, but the issue of an ambassador for your people in the Crystal Court is a serious matter. Our compatibility aside, you are the best candidate for the position. I requested your presence because I thought it prudent to be aware of any angle, especially those that might work in my favour, before I consulted the queen.”
Hamish shuffled in his seat. “It wouldnae be a good idea to tell me mum.” He could well imagine her reaction to Darshan requesting Hamish leave with him to a distant city. “She would never allow me to leave our clan lands much less Tirglas.”
“I would be lying if I denied wanting you to come with me. But I want you to want this because you… well… want it. Not because it is what you think I want.”
“Right,” Hamish mumbled, his head still spinning.
Darshan gave an apologetic smile. “I am rambling, I know. I am not typically known for doing so when I am nervous, but I guess you bring out all my bad habits.”
“You’re nervous?” His stomach was almost close to tying itself in knots. “Why?”
Darshan inhal
ed deeply. He closed his eyes and spoke in a rush, “I really like you, probably more than would be considered appropriate given the short amount of time we have known each other.”
That’s fair. Hadn’t his brother mentioned as much?
“So understand I am not being entirely altruistic when I ask, do you want to go?”
“Aye.” The answer was out before he’d a chance to consider hedging either way. He had thought a fair bit on the topic himself since his brother had left him to while away the rest of the night and had slept only fitfully in between.
“That is… a relief to hear.” Darshan relaxed slightly in the chair, although a touch of hesitance still lingered in his eyes. “I have enjoyed your presence thus far and I do not mean just the sex. Even so, I would hate to think I was merely projecting my desires upon you, but I would require your mother’s blessing on the matter in order to have your ambassadorial position considered official. Otherwise…” One side of his mouth twitched upwards, shifting his glasses. Mischief glittered behind those lenses. “I might as well just kidnap you.”
It may come to that. If it had been the original ambassador, the countess who Darshan claimed had been assassinated, then his mother might’ve been content to let him leave. With Darshan? Nae chance. “I wouldnae ken a thing about your desires,” he mumbled.
Frowning, the man’s gaze shifted from Hamish to the books on the table. His mouth moved, clearly repeating the words he’d just uttered. “Forgive me, but did I misspeak? It was my understanding that the word desire has several meanings in your tongue beyond the sexual. If I have been misinformed, I—”
Hamish held up a hand, a little surprised to find that was all it took to silence the man. “You’ve nae been misled. It meant exactly as you thought, but that doesnae change what I said.” He peered at Darshan. The emotionless mask had fractured some, uncertainty and concern peeking through the cracks. “I just need to ken one thing: What are you seeking from me?”
Darshan was silent for quite some time. His focus drifted off into the surrounding gloom whilst a single thumb tapped almost thoughtfully on the table. “I must confess to ignorance. I thought we had already agreed as to the nature of our affair?”
“In the short term, aye.” He waved a hand at the books piled up. “What you’re discussing is far longer than I was expecting.”
“Our relationship need not affect your position in the Crystal Court.” What cracks there had been in that stone-like expression slowly smoothed over like plaster on a wall. “I am not asking for the stipulation of us to remain together, if that is what you would prefer, any more than I would expect you to put your romantic affairs above your political obligations. If you were to come to Minamist, you would be free to court whomever you fancy.”
Heat flooded Hamish’s cheeks. He said it all so coldly. Maybe he had been wrong about the man. He swallowed. What he wouldn’t give for a pint of… anything really. Thank the Goddess he’d had enough brains to heed Gordon’s warning about blurting out his feelings.
Darshan continued, the emotionless tone cracking at every other word, “That is not to say I would not find us continuing our affair back where we could be more open as the preferable option, but I leave the choice of that in your hands.”
Hamish shook his head. Leaving it up to him was a bad idea. “I’ve nae examples of a long term relationship.” Or anything more than a single night’s fling. His thoughts slid to his siblings and their long-dead spouses. “Nae personal ones,” he amended.
Darshan laid a bejewelled hand on Hamish’s knee. “Trust me, I did not lie when I said this is very much untrodden ground for myself as well. We can take it as slow as you wish. Nothing formally announced unless you want it to be. I know better than to push and it will do neither of us any good to rush a new relationship of any sort.” There was a kernel of sorrow lurking in those words, struggling to stay hidden.
“Speaking from experience?” Hamish asked, trying to keep his voice light as his focus drifted surreptitiously over the table. A jug sat tucked out of the way on the other side of the books. He sniffed under the guise of scratching his nose. No hint of wine or any other alcohol. That ruled out the man being drunk.
His lover hummed in agreement. “My longest time with any one man lasted a week.” He closed his eyes. “I found him in bed with a family enemy.” One side of his mouth twitched into a bitter smile. “My own bed, no less.”
“That’s… unfortunate.” And foolish on their part, unless their plan was to be caught.
Darshan’s head lifted, his gaze snapping back to Hamish. By the Goddess’ breath, a kicked puppy would’ve looked happier than he did right now. “You are a good man, ‘Mish,” he breathed. “Sometimes to your detriment, I would think. Men like you are scarce in Udynea. You could almost say they are extinct, especially amongst the nobility. The Crystal Court tends to change those who dare its depths, like little glass sharks chewing them up and spitting them out just for fun.”
“Yet you’re still looking to take me there?” Surely the man wouldn’t dare if it was truly that bad. “And you must be pulling me leg. You’re part of their nobility.”
Sitting back, Darshan laughed softly. “I never said I was a good man, mea lux.”
There were those words again. They almost resonated, tugging at something deep inside him. What did they mean?
Before Hamish could ask, Darshan continued, “I am extremely selfish, fairly debauched, too—possibly bordering on hedonistic, even. And let us not forget that I am far too used to getting my own way.”
Hamish grinned down at where Darshan’s hand still lingered on his knee. Yes, he could see all of that in the man, but… “You’re also patient and careful.” Especially if last night could be anything to go on. “Tender, too.”
Scoffing, Darshan shook his head. “I can choose to be that easily enough. You have no idea if that is the norm for me.”
He understood quite a few things, perhaps a bit more than Darshan believed. “That’s kind of me point. You may think you’re selfish, and you could’ve been all you wanted with me being none the wiser, but you chose differently.”
Those hazel eyes had grown bigger the longer Hamish spoke, widening until they looked like they might overflow the man’s lenses. The darkening of his cheeks was barely perceptible in the dim light. “Only with those who deserve it,” he mumbled, reaching out. The tips of his fingers grazed Hamish’s forearm, the touch barely perceptible through the heavy woollen sleeve. “You looked so frightened the night I came to you, so scared the guards would find us. No one deserves to live like that.”
Hamish gently clasped his lover’s hand, entwining their fingers. In the brassy lantern light, the rich olive-brown tone of Darshan’s slender fingers almost matched Hamish’s own weathered hands. “If we are to do this, then I need to ken how we are to go about it. What do you want out of it, physically?”
“Oh, one of those conversations.” Darshan smiled, a faint huff of laughter flaring his nostrils. “Why did you not just come out and ask that to begin with? Although, to be frank, you satisfied most of my desires there well enough last night.”
He rolled his eyes as he fought a losing battle to keep the heat in his cheeks from consuming his face. It wasn’t that he hadn’t had men compliment how good he was, just not generally the day after. “Dinnae pander to me. I’m aware I did feck all last night. I want to ken what you like.”
Nodding, Darshan twisted in his seat until he faced Hamish square on. “You wish to lay down some ground rules before we continue this? I am perfectly all right with discussing that. Probably something we should have hammered out earlier.”
“Rules?” Hamish echoed. He hadn’t come across that one before. Wasn’t an eagerness to participate the only rule? Had he been missing some crucial detail all this time? That cannae be it. Or could it?
Darshan inclined his head. “Discuss each other’s limits, if you prefer to think of it that way. Shall I go first?” His brows rose expectantl
y, waiting for a response.
Hamish waved his lover on. Perhaps having something to compare would allow him to gauge just what he had misunderstood.
“Let me see…” Leaning back in his chair, Darshan tapped one forefinger against his lips. The ruby ring adorning the digit glittered with each movement. “Simple things first, I suppose?” He cleared his throat. “I do not do bindings, no matter how good I look in rope—and, believe me, I am an absolute vision. Sadly, I tend to panic if I cannot free myself. Almost burnt down a lord’s house the last time I participated in such an act.”
“Fair enough,” Hamish mumbled, a sinking sensation growing in his stomach. Just what was the man talking about? Why would rope ever be involved with sex? And— “Did you say burn?”
Darshan winced. “I did. Not intentionally, you understand,” he continued, the words almost climbing over each other in their rush to be heard. “The bonds were tied a little too snugly and my hands had gone numb. He really did his best to free me, poor thing. I was already frantic by the time he tried to cut me free and—” His gaze dropped and he scuffed the toe of his boot along the floor. “Well, the coldness of the blade against my wrist was the final straw, so to speak.”
He recalled Darshan’s apologetic insistence in being unable to hold the door to Hamish’s room closed whilst they were intimate. Not being able to focus enough to maintain certain magics sounded plausible. It hadn’t occurred to him that a spellster might inadvertently use his power. And in such a destructive way…
“If you are looking for a way to restrain me, I have no quarrels about being held down… physically anyway.” Darshan’s voice had turned husky, those hazel eyes glazing over, before he shook himself. “Toys are a big yes in my books, as long as I have a degree of control over them. Blindfolds, too. Not gags, though—you could say I like the sound of my own voice far too much to restrain it.”