by Aldrea Alien
Zurron had returned by the time they had cleared a sizable patch for camp. The pony was sweating heavily and needed to be dried off, but he seemed to have more-or-less settled, calming further once amongst his fellow horses. A good thing, otherwise they would have no choice but to waste tomorrow returning the pony to the castle. And Mum will insist on several more guards.
With all the horses content to graze, their gear was stripped and tossed into a pile in the middle of the clearing. Gordon and Quinn wasted little time in pitching the tents, whilst Zurron vanished back into the undergrowth on his own two feet in search of more firewood.
Sean squatted before the campfire, feeding twigs and splinters of kindling into the flames. Soon, the man would set about preparing dinner. It wouldn’t be anything fancy, likely a light broth to soften the remainder of the stale bread, but it’d help keep them warm once the light faded and the spring chill encroached.
Nevertheless, Hamish’s stomach grumbled at the thought of food. He still had the last few pieces of cheese and a hunk of bread in his pack. It wouldn’t be enough to feed him but it would serve as a morsel to tide him over.
Dumping the last of the good wood near Sean, Hamish idly made his way to where Darshan still sat on the thick branch. The piece had clearly fallen from the rockbark tree encroaching on the clearing and, even though it would be a challenge, they had debated hacking it up for the fire before abandoning the idea. Whilst it appeared to be dry enough, the main section was covered in knots that could break the strongest of axes.
“So,” his lover said as Hamish settled on the branch. “Will all our nights be in such crude shelters?”
“For the most part. There’s a few farms along the way, we might be able to spend a night in their barns.”
Humming, Darshan propped his chin on the back of an upraised hand and watched as Quinn and Gordon pitched the second tent. “How terribly rustic.”
“I take it you’ve nae slept in anything beyond a bed.” He wouldn’t be surprised to find the man had never been beyond the confines of the imperial palace. It would help explain how the Udynean thought his thin, silvery-white sherwani was a good choice for travelling.
“Not since I was a child and it was more of a novelty even then.” A frown drew his dark brows even with the edge of his glasses. He twisted in his seat, his head still leaning against his hand. “I thought your people had inns? Or was I told wrong? Travel down any Udynean road long enough and you are bound to come across one before sunset.”
“On the main roads, aye, there are inns everywhere. If we kept travelling past Old Willie’s for a half-day, then we’d strike one at a wee village.” He had only been there the once whilst travelling with Nora on their way through to her husband’s lands further north. All he remembered was a view of the sun sinking over a steel-blue sea.
He couldn’t journey that far from the castle anymore. None of them were allowed such freedom, but he could show Darshan a sliver of that same beauty. Hamish eyed his lover. Whether that time was now or on the way back depended on how well the spellster had recuperated from his tree-lifting attempt. “You seem to be feeling better.”
Darshan inclined his head. “I am.”
“Come with me, then.” In one smooth movement, Hamish bounced upright and tugged Darshan to his feet. “Quick, before the light fades altogether.” He strode across the clearing before his lover could object, towing the man by an unresisting arm and halting once they reached the opposite tree line.
“And just where are you going?” his brother called out.
“We willnae be long.”
“Dinnae expect your tent to be ready and waiting when you get back.”
Hamish waved off the threat. As much as his brother blustered and nagged, Gordon wouldn’t leave him to wrangle with the canvas sheets on his own any more than he would allow Hamish to sleep out in the open all night.
They pushed through the undergrowth. It wasn’t thick, mercifully, but Darshan still clung to the lower half of his sherwani. Hamish paused every few feet to cut a fresh marker in the bark of each tree he past. Even though he was certain he knew the way back without such a trail, it was better to err on the cautious side.
The trees grew stunted the closer to their destination, eventually giving way to hardier bushes that they were forced to skirt or squeeze past. The crash of waves beckoned them on.
Darshan cut a path through the denser patches in the bush. How? Hamish wasn’t entirely sure, seeing just a flash of purple slice the air before the offending foliage fell only to be swept away by a magical blast of wind.
Finally, pushing through the last of the brush, they halted on a small patch of weedy grass and rocks.
Hamish breathed deeply of the sea air. The hook-like curve of the harbour was more noticeable here, dominating the left horizon. We’re nae too late.
Twilight turned the ocean into the shade of rich whiskey. A hazy band of clouds, flushed an orange-pink, hovered on the horizon. The sun peeked through them like a fiery jewel. If he shaded his eyes and squinted, the other side of the harbour came into view as a dark line near the water’s edge. “Isnae she beautiful?”
Like the trees at their back, Darshan remained silently standing at his side. The waning sunlight glinted off his glasses, but his lover’s smile was clear enough.
“Do you have views like this back home?” He knew Minamist was situated in an almost lagoon-like harbour, but not if there were any cliffs to get a decent view of the sun sinking into the horizon. He would often watch the day’s end from the tower, eking out the most from each ray before the guards came for him.
“Ocean views, yes. The imperial palace has a magnificent one. Not wholly clear all the way to the harbour pass, though. And it looks nothing like this.” He finally tore his gaze from the sunset to face Hamish. “Is this what you wanted to show me?”
Hamish nodded. “I thought you might like a last look at something familiar before we head inland tomorrow.”
“So soon? A pity.” His gaze returned to the sunset, although his head cocked Hamish’s way. “Can we linger here for a while? Just until the sun goes down?”
“Sure. The campsite’s nae far.” And, even if it had been, the spellster was more than capable of lighting their way until they reached the others. He held up a small sack of wax cloth and waggled it. Dinner would be some time regardless of where they waited for it. “I already nicked some grub. I was saving this for tomorrow, but I reckon you need it more after the tree.” He peeled back the cloth to halve the remainder of the cheese and hand a piece to his lover.
“I could have survived until dinner, but thank you. A picnic on the cliff edge is a welcome relief from the forest.” He settled on the ground, patting the earth next to him in invitation and smiling when Hamish sat close by. “I do not believe I have seen so many trees for some years.” He waved his piece of cheese around like a lecture stick. “This would all be farmland in Udynea. Has no one tried to tame these forests?”
Hamish shook his head. Maybe if the people had ready access to magic like it seemed most Udyneans did. It took a lot of men and sheer grit to maintain the farms already out there. Adding more would only spread people thin. And when it came to some dangers, superior numbers was often the one factor towards victory.
They chatted sparsely whilst eating. Darshan dared to attempt teaching him a smattering of Udynean to describe the sunset. It wasn’t the easiest language to mimic. Hamish’s tongue mangled quite a number of the words until his lover was laughing uncontrollably, trying to explain what he had actually said whilst tears continued to stream down his face.
Eventually, he gave up at Hamish’s promise to practise.
“I see you are still wearing one of my gifts.” Whilst that hazel gaze hadn’t left the view since they had settled amongst the rocks and mossy grass, Hamish swore he felt the man’s eyes boring into his hand all the same. “Are you not afraid you will lose it?”
“Are you nae concerned about losing your m
ultitude of rings?”
Darshan lifted a hand, seeming to consider the wealth of precious metals and gems it bore. “I have worn these for long enough that I know losing them is somewhat difficult. Even consciously removing them takes some effort. I cannot imagine that ring has such a tight fit.”
Hamish fiddled with the band, well aware the action was being noted. Maybe he should’ve left it back home. He could’ve tucked it into the box with the toy. Although the risk of losing the ring to prying eyes whilst he was gone seemed far more likely than having it slip off his finger out here. “Seems snug enough.”
His lover casually lifted Hamish’s hand to examine the ring. “A perfect fit, I would say. Without any need of adjustment, either. If I was a priestly man, I would say the gods rather declared it was meant to be.”
“I honestly thought you were going to swallow your tongue when Ethan pointed out you were trying to put the ring on the wedding finger.” The memory of Darshan standing there, shock draining the warmth from his olive-brown cheeks and turning his eyes as vacant as a pole-struck steer, was one that would be etched into his mind forever.
“I hope you will forgive me for putting you in such a spot.”
“Nae harm was done.” If Ethan hadnae said… Well, he wouldn’t exactly have taken it as a proposal, but he could have. The difference in marriage traditions should have been one of the cultural differences Darshan’s tutors would’ve focused on. Or were they really so inept as to not know? “As you said then, you dinnae ken.”
Darshan muttered something under his breath. It sounded Udynean.
“What was that?”
“The gods suffer an act of ignorance the once,” his lover dutifully translated. “It is from the Book of Kailin. He was a prophet of sorts. Mad as the God Jalaane. They say he spent a year in the desert bordering Stamekia towards the end of his prophet-hood, subsisting on nothing but sand and fresh air. Absolute poppycock, but people do like to embellish legends. He was rumoured to have returned home and slaughtered his wife because the gods told him to.”
Hamish wrinkled his nose. “I dinnae think it wise to take advice from a murderer.”
“Not in family matters, certainly.” He peered at Hamish out the corner of his eye. “But I have been thinking… you and I would make quite the pair.”
“In what sense?” Hamish mumbled around his final piece of bread.
Darshan shot him a meaningful look, one brow arching as if he couldn’t quite decide if Hamish was that dense.
“Oh,” Hamish murmured. “Oh!” His face fast grew uncomfortably warm. Darshan couldn’t actually be meaning that they should make their dalliances a little more permanent. Or could he? Hamish cleared his throat, gagging on a few remaining crumbs. “You’ll have to excuse me, I was nae expecting a proposal.”
Shock widened those hazel eyes and naked terror slackened his lover’s jaw. “I—”
“You were nae meaning it in that sense, I ken that.” Still, even saying it aloud did little to hush the bitter whisper of disappointment that flooded his thoughts in the absence of relief. Only now he was faced with a negative answer did he realise he had been hoping for a different one. How long had that desire been lingering beneath the surface?
Darshan laid a bejewelled hand on Hamish’s knee. “Do not misunderstand, mea lux. If I thought my father would approve of me bringing home a husband…” The words trailed off, a shy smile taking their place.
A warm flutter started up in Hamish’s stomach, spreading until it suffused his whole body. He turned his gaze to their surroundings. It was the only way he could think of anything beyond kissing the man breathless. “Mea lux,” he mused aloud. “You’ve called me that before.” Several times whilst they were in the library. That’d been on the morning after their night together in the guest quarters. He had dismissed it since. “But you’ve nae given me a translation.”
“Have I not?” Darshan cleared his throat when Hamish shook his head, his cheeks quickly turning a deep red. “It is a term of endearment.”
“I gathered that by the tone.” Did he mean it as genuinely as it sounded? All light and sweet? “What does it mean?”
If Hamish didn’t think the man’s cheeks could darken further, then they seemed happy to prove him wrong. “My light,” Darshan whispered.
He ran the words through his head. “But you just told me the Udynean word for light is haalen.” Did that only refer to sunlight? He hadn’t said as much, but it was possible. Or was he lying about their meaning? That seemed just as likely.
“It does mean that,” Darshan rambled, twisting around until he sat cross-legged before Hamish. “In Udynean. There are other words for it, of course, but haalen has a more widespread usage. However, mea lux is from the Ancient Domian tongue.”
Wonderful. Yet another language Hamish had no experience with that the man seemed fluent in. He was really starting to feel like a barbarian. “How many languages can you speak?” And was Darshan going to attempt to teach him every single one?
“A number of them. Ancient Domian is…” His lover waved one hand in the air, rolling it at the wrist. “How do I put this? It is my mother tongue, the first one I spoke. You see, the Udynea Empire rather overran the Domian lands some hundreds of years ago.”
“Your ancestors conquered, you mean. I ken about that.” Udyneans were well-known for taking over lands, removing the nobility and planting one of their own at the top to continue running whole cities without disturbing the lives of common folk. He’d even heard tales of them adopting certain customs from the very lands they had conquered.
Wincing, Darshan bowed his head. “Yes, well the empire no longer seeks to expand her borders. But for some time now, being able to speak Ancient Domian fluently has become somewhat of a social status symbol amongst nobility and is taught first to all children of high birth. Naturally, we learn Udynean soon after, most times together.”
“That’s it? On top of Tirglasian, obviously.” Three languages, two from childhood, didn’t sound nearly as intimidating.
Darshan gave a sheepish smile. “Not entirely. I also speak Niholian and pick up a smattering more of Dvärg each time their hedgewitches visit the palace. I can also wish good health to the herd of a Stamekian nomad, although their language is a little more complicated to learn.”
An incredulous huff escaped Hamish’s lips. The man spoke all those languages, even only in part, and still considered Stamekian as complicated? “I hope you’re nae planning on teaching me all of them, because I dinnae think there’ll be time for additional lessons before you leave.”
His lover fell silent, frowning at the ground. He plucked a budding daisy from the scrags of grass and rolled the stem between his thumb and forefinger. One by one, the petals fanned out and seemingly leapt off the flower to drop back amongst the dirt.
Hamish watched wordlessly. Speaking of Darshan leaving wasn’t why he had come here, but there wasn’t anything he could say to change the fact his mother was a stubborn woman and most certainly would refuse to let him go. If he had sired children, given her another royal line to cling to, then maybe. But if he had ever felt the desire to lay with a woman, then he wouldn’t be here with Darshan now.
“Truthfully,” his lover whispered. “I am still holding out that leaving will not be a solo affair.” He glanced up at Hamish, peering over the rim of his glasses. “Despite her dislike of me, your mother seems genuinely eager for an alliance and the Crystal Court is lacking in an expert of Tirglasian culture. It is not as if you would be expected to share my quarters. There are entire wings set aside for our ambassadors.”
Hamish nodded absently, his focus still mostly on the flower steadily losing its petals. His mother probably knew that. It didn’t matter. He was a prince, he belonged in the castle.
Darshan shuffled closer until their knees casually touched. “Of course, with us so far from Tirglas and your mother’s guards, we could continue our affair a little more openly.”
And that was p
recisely what his mother suspected would happen. “Would your father nae object to his son fooling around with a man?” He knew things were different in Udynea, but his lover was still a prince. Surely, the Mhanek expected Darshan to have children of his own should he need to take the throne.
Just how far down the line of succession was Darshan?
Before he could ask, his lover chuckled mirthlessly. “If you had asked me a few months ago about whether or not my father cared when it came to who I slept with, I would have agreed with you. He rather despairs over the fact.” Darshan ran a considering gaze over Hamish.
Heat started to warm his cheeks despite the cool ocean breeze.
“But,” Darshan purred. “Not this time, I would think.”
“So, he’s objected in the past?” He should’ve known travelling to Minamist with Darshan sounded too easy. His lover would be bound by his own obligations to his family. Hamish wouldn’t exactly factor into plans likely years in the making. “You dinnae strike me as the type to fash himself over what his father wants.”
Darshan leant forward until his lips almost brushed Hamish’s ear. “Can I tell you a secret?” his lover whispered conspiratorially as if they weren’t sitting alone near the cliff edge. He waited until Hamish nodded before continuing. “Being sent here was somewhat of a punishment.”
“Punishment?” Hamish echoed. The emperor thought sending his son to the other side of the continent, where Darshan was far from under his eye, could be considered in any way as a reprimand?
Tipping back, his lover nodded energetically. “Oh yes. I will admit, I was less than thrilled with the idea of venturing to a foreign land on my own, especially given that I was to learn what I could about your lands whilst journeying to it. But father insisted I take Countess Harini’s position.” He tipped his head, glancing over his shoulder at the forest as if to reassure himself they were alone. “Between you and me, I am certain he was the one to have her assassinated. Almost.” If he was expecting Hamish to be shocked, he didn’t seem disappointed in the lack of reaction.