To Target the Heart

by Aldrea Alien

  How well Darshan would handle the trial was a question Hamish didn’t want to think on. Now that Gordon had gone off on his own path, the spellster crashed through the undergrowth, demolishing anything small in his way, be it the brisk skitter of a stone or the vicious stomp of winter-dead undergrowth. Curiously, he seemed to be avoiding any living foliage.

  “You’re upset,” Hamish said. There was no chance the man was this clumsy and Darshan hadn’t even attempted to skirt the small, reedy stand of broom that had yet to show any hint of yellow flowers.

  His lover grunted and mumbled under his breath, the words too faint for Hamish to make out.

  “What was that?”

  Darshan huffed. “Of course I am bloody upset. Every time I think we will make it through this, another damn obstacle rears its head.” He swatted a bush with the outer curve of his bow, seemingly wincing along with Hamish. “I hate it. How do you live like this?”

  Hamish eyed the man’s bow. It didn’t appear damaged by the unorthodox usage. Fortunately, they’d had plenty more for practice purposes if it came to that. “Must be new for you, having to play along. I suppose the vris Mhanek gets everything he wants.”

  His lover snorted. “Evidently not or you and I would be on our way to Minamist by now.” He slammed his foot down on a half-rotten stick, shattering it to pieces. “I should apologise for my harshness earlier. The stress of all this is overwhelming at times, but I should not have lashed out. Certainly not at you.”

  “I understand.” Between his mother’s goading words and the knowledge of what would happen should Darshan fail, Hamish had been hard-pressed to keep his own temper.

  Another harrumph exited Darshan’s nose. “Understanding does not make what I said any better.” He halted, his hands resting firmly on his hips as he surveyed the surrounding forests. “So which way would your nephews have gone?”

  “North, most like.” That was the direction of the finish line.

  Giving a considering hum, Darshan peered up at the canopy of branches and leaves. “The way we have been heading, then?” He resumed walking, taking a little more care of his surroundings. “Do you think they would veer much from that direction?”

  Hamish shrugged. The boys knew their way around this place. His mother had insisted on all of them knowing the terrain should the worst befall the castle. Would Darshan fair just as well after one day? He would certainly have the advantage of treading these forests before the other competitors, but they were unlikely to require help to spy the move of a guard readying to lob dye at them.

  Maybe he could stash the man’s glasses case under a tree root near the beginning. But then Darshan would have to find it and store it again before he reached the finish line. What if he used one of the boys? Maybe two, so that the second could snatch the glasses back. All three would likely help if he asked, but what then? And how would he explain their absence to Nora? Or Mum. And if they were caught?

  “Mea lux? Have we taken a wrong turn?”

  Hamish jerked out of his contemplation. How long had he been standing here, keeping an eye out for the very nephews he now faintly heard chasing each other amongst the trees? And me as animate as a log.

  Shaking himself, Hamish peered into the undergrowth and, spying nothing of note, continued to lead the way. “You ever wonder what our lives could’ve been like if we were nae like this?”

  Darshan frowned. “You mean if I was not myself? Or if you did not have to keep an integral piece of you secret from the wider world? Which one are you trying to ask?”

  “Both, I guess.” He had spent years wondering about either scenario. In his darkest moments, he had even prayed that just one would be true, not caring which the Goddess chose to bestow upon him when either would see him free of his cage.

  “For the former?” A sneer wriggled its way across Darshan’s lips before being pressed into extinction. “I would probably be married by now. And no doubt knee-deep in heirs.” Indifference, with a hint of loathing, tinted his words.

  “You always talk about it with such disdain. Do you nae want bairns of your own?” It was a strange stance to take given he’d been so endearing around Nora’s boys.

  His lover sighed. “Mea lux, I adore you more than the sun, but do not ask me that again.”

  Hamish breathed deep. It wasn’t quite as easy as that. “You nae answered me last night.” Not properly. And certainly not to his liking. He had always been taught that it was customary to discuss children with a betrothed well before the wedding and he wasn’t about to let it slide just because they were both men.

  Darshan hung his head. “No, I did not.”

  He wasn’t even sure as to the extent of their options when it came to children or if they would have the same ones in Udynea as they did here. “And we should be talking about it.” And probably about a few other things, too. “Is it that you dinnae want to be a father or—?”

  “Partially.” He scuffed his boot along the ground, disturbing a mulch of rich soil and last autumn’s leaves. “My father’s insistence on me siring children rather dulled whatever glittering enchantment the idea had.”

  “Your father?” Hamish echoed. He had thought, after everything Darshan had said, that settling into the imperial palace at Minamist would be peaceful. But if the Mhanek wanted Darshan to have children, then Hamish doubted the man would be pleased to see his son arrive already married. Especially to a man. “What if your husband wants them?”

  Darshan grinned, arching a brow. “So easily swayed to the idea of marrying me?”

  Hamish folded his arms. He was in no mood for jokes. “I’m used to being surrounded by close kin. I ken that you winning the contest will mean you’ll also take me from me family. I guess I sort of expected that we…” He shrugged. “That we’d somehow have wee bairns of our own. That’s what tends to come after marriage,” he mumbled.

  Now he had said it out loud, it sounded stupid.

  His lover’s cocky smile faded. In its place came the stunned, slightly lip-parted, look of a man lost in fresh understanding. “If that is what you want, I suppose—”

  “I kind of assumed we would want it, nae just me.”

  Darshan gnawed on his bottom lip. He stared out into the forest and twisted one end of his moustache.

  “Why do you even want to marry me?” Certainly not for the usual reasons people in Tirglas married.

  Those hazel eyes blinked up at him. “Because you are my light, my flame eternal. I love you.” A flush of golden light seemed to glow around the man as he spoke. The Goddess’ own timing in the gust of leaves and the angle of the sun.

  Hamish’s heart still fluttered at the sight. “But that’s nae how it works here.” Love could be a factor, granted, but there was so much more. “Children are expected after a wedding.”

  “I recall you stating something along those lines some time back. Two years, was it?” Darshan bowed his head. “I have never been this deep into a relationship. You are aware of that. And marriage? If you had told me when we first met that I would want to marry… I would have found the mere concept alarming.”

  When we first met. A month had passed since then. So much had happened that Hamish would never have been able to predict. He had been prepared for his mother to attempt an alliance between himself and a Udynean noblewoman. Instead, the Goddess had sent him the chance to fall in love when he’d thought it lost to him.

  “Truth be told,” Darshan continued. “I have no idea where we are headed or where I want to be.” He brushed the hair back from his forehead, fisting the strands. “As for how to get there…” A sigh gusted out his lips, his shoulders seeming to deflate with the escaping air. “Back home, love in marriage, especially amongst the nobility, is a rare thing to have. Personal feelings are often pushed aside in favour of forming strong political ties and even stronger bloodlines.”

  “You get neither of them by marrying me. Me mum will never accept our marriage as anything but a sham.” He wasn’t even sure if s
he would recognise Darshan as the victor.

  His lover shrugged. “If your mother sees no merit behind acknowledging the alliance it would make between our kingdoms, then I am afraid that cannot be helped.”

  I suppose. Perhaps his siblings would have better luck after Darshan was beyond his mother’s sight. He doubted it, but it was the best chance until she was gone and Gordon took the throne.

  “That being said, we do not need to have children to solidify such an alliance.”

  His stomach twisted at the thought. It wasn’t just convention that made Darshan’s statement a dubious one. “But I want to be a father.” The admission was out before he could reel it back.

  Darshan stopped midstride. His head snapped around, those hazel eyes wide.

  “I always thought I would be,” he rambled on, all the words pushing for their chance to escape. “Even as a young lad, I had believed it a path I could claim.” The idea of sleeping with some poor woman his mother had picked for him, of dragging her through it all had been what’d stopped him from voicing his paternal desire to anyone else.

  His lover remained as still as a deer looking for danger. The lump in his throat bobbed as he audibly swallowed.

  Hamish scratched his nose with the back of a thumb. “I guess you’re going to call me foolish and sentimental?”

  Finally, something other than stark terror crossed Darshan’s face, curving his lips into a watery smile. “There are worse things to be.” His gaze returned to the forest whilst he toyed with his little finger. “Forgive me, mea lux, I had no idea you felt this way.”

  “That’s why we needed to talk.”

  “Clearly. It is just—” A sigh sagged his lover’s shoulders. “It is a lot to think on after everything else. If you would permit me the time to mull over the idea?” He clasped Hamish’s hand. “And we shall have far more of it once these trials are over.”

  Did they? How much time did they really have to spare? He’d two more harrowing nights of sleep before Darshan’s participation in the union contest was revealed. That couldn’t be long enough to mull over the idea of children. “Dinnae think that means you can take forever.”

  The smile Darshan gave was a small one, creased with concern. He caressed Hamish’s cheek. “It is not something to be considered lightly. There will be—” He grimaced. “—obstacles back home. But I shall consider it thoroughly. And I swear you shall have an answer before we set foot on Udynean soil.”

  Nodding, Hamish returned to walking through the forest. What obstacles could possibly prevent an imperial prince from being a father? Was the crown prince the only one allowed to sire heirs? It sounded like something the Udynean court would enforce. But then why would the Mhanek be concerned about Darshan choosing to not have children?

  Hamish pressed his lips tighter together. If he let his thoughts wander in endless circles, allowed another word to slip free, he’d wind up bombarding Darshan with more questions that could have the man fleeing.

  But his mind was nowhere near as cooperative as his mouth in staying still.

  Were there other dangers in raising children in the imperial palace? Assassins. Darshan was only here because the previous ambassador had been killed. Surely, no one would attempt such a thing on a small baby. They tried with us.

  Hamish felt along his head, to the scar buried deep beneath his hair. He’d been eleven when those ruffians had tried to slaughter him and Caitlyn.

  Fire. His thoughts turned back to that fateful day. Most considered of it as the time his younger sister had revealed herself to be a spellster.

  He didn’t remember much after one of the scunners had hit him from behind, but there’d been screaming. At first, it was just his sister’s piercing cry, then the men as she unleashed the power of a furnace on the bastards. And fear.

  Hamish rubbed his hands, which seemed hotter than they should’ve been. Not sweaty, just uncomfortably warm.

  Darshan eyed him, but whatever caused the faint furrowing between his thick brows, he was seemingly content to remain silent.

  He shook his head. Best nae to think about it. That’d been his father’s suggestion all those years ago, perhaps it was for the best if he continued that stance. They’d been lucky. That was all anyone ever focused on. Perhaps it was the same in Udynea. Perhaps that was why Darshan needed time to consider.

  Hamish dare not ask even that.

  He led the way through the forest, silently pointing out tracks that indicated his nephews had split up. It made determining just where the rascals were a difficult one, but not impossible.

  What he hadn’t seen was any hint of his brother. Was Gordon scheming? Perhaps on a re-enactment of what a true forest run trial was like? Or did he merely tread the other side of the sectioned-off piece of forest in pursuit of his nephews in the same manner as they?

  He cast a glance Darshan’s way under the guise of adjusting his bow. His lover seemed to be alert enough to react to any harmless projectile Gordon might lob in their direction, if that was the goal.

  But thoughts of his brother had him thinking on their talk as they waited for the boys to ready themselves for the day. “Apparently,” he said, trying to keep his voice even. “That is, according to me brother—I should be discussing last night with you?”

  “Should you?” Darshan gave a rich chuckle. “Gordon no doubt referred to the rather flustered state I descended the stairs in search of you. But he is a smart man and I am certain he already knew the cause did not stem from any disagreements.” He cocked his head. “Do you even remember last night?”

  Hamish tipped his head from side to side, his hand wobbling in a similar display. “Bits and pieces.” He had a clear memory of the feasting and how much the women were intent on groping him whilst they danced in the main hall. Beyond that? When he had sought out the welcoming darkness and solitude of the mezzanine? “We danced and talked.” For some time, although he remembered half of the conversation. But there’d been that same golden warmth as Darshan had declared him as his chosen. “And then I… kissed you?” By the way Gordon spoke, he could assume he’d made a right tit of himself. “Did we…?” He let the question trail off.

  “Have sex?” Darshan finished. “No.”

  A gust of relief expelled itself from Hamish’s lungs. The confession clashed with the fragments of hot skin and the taste of his lover on his tongue, but it wasn’t the first time he had dreamt such wonders.

  “However.” Darshan side-stepped a sapling as he spoke. “That does not exclude you dragging me to the window ledge and having your wicked way with my personage.”

  Hamish inhaled sharply enough to hurt his chest. “So that part wasnae wishful dreaming, then?”

  Laughter erupted from Darshan, along with their chance of sneaking up on the boys should they be nearby. “Wishful dreaming?” he echoed between gasps for air. “Not unless we had the same vivid dream.”

  “Me brother gave the impression you were a wee bit disorderly and mystified.” So much so that Hamish had wondered if he had done something wrong that he didn’t remember.

  “I was. But only because you decided to pleasure me then leave with just one kiss and a hearty ‘sleep well’. You gave me no time to regain my composure, let alone the chance to reciprocate.”

  Hamish scoffed. “And what would you have done? It’s nae like you could’ve draped me over the railing and had it off.” They could’ve tried the floor, although his knees could already attest to its unforgiving nature. Never mind the fact he would’ve had to wait for Darshan to recover his strength.

  Darshan rolled his eyes. “As if that was the only thing I could have done there.” His gaze dropped. “Pretty sure I could deep throat that monster given time.”

  Hamish faltered for a step. There was no chance the man’s focus could be on anything except Hamish’s groin.

  “What?” his lover chuckled. “You look as if no one has offered before.”

  To suck him off? Why would they? For most of the men he
had propositioned, he had been a convenient place to stick it. The majority of them gave the impression that they’d rather not be reminded he was a man. For them to care about his pleasure was laughable.

  Darshan gave a crooked grin, one brow cocking in amusement. “I know how well you can service a man orally and how the majority would be reluctant to forgo your magical mouth, but has no one really ever returned the favour?”

  Hamish mutely shook his head.

  “Truly?” Whipping his head around to peer at the forest, Darshan sidled closer. “Would you be disposed to participating in such an act? Whilst I might not have your skill, I promise not to disappoint.”

  “Here?” he whispered, his voice hoarse. One of the uppermost branches of the sapling they had just passed had been recently broken. Surely at least one of the boys was nearby. He tilted his head, but there was no other sound beyond their own boots crunching through the undergrowth.

  His lover jerked his head back, his lashes briefly fluttering in mild surprise. “The thought of doing so in the middle of a forest had not crossed my mind, but if you are comfortable with the idea…” He arched a brow as the rest went unsaid. “Otherwise, whenever you desire.”

  “Well, now that’s all I can think of.” Whenever he’d done the act, even with all those men who’d grunted and moaned at his eagerness, not once had he considered what it would be like on the receiving end. Did they have time for what his lover was suggesting?

  Smiling, Darshan clasped one of Hamish’s hands. “Come with me.” With a gentle tug, he guided them into a thick copse. “This should be adequate,” he murmured, backing Hamish up to the trunk of a sturdy tree. A hunger Hamish had never witnessed took over Darshan’s expression as his lover stroked Hamish’s already semi-hard length through his trousers.

  Hamish swallowed. His legs trembled slightly. He braced himself against the tree for good measure. “Actually, I’m nae so sure this is a good idea,” he said, breathless. “To do it here, I mean. What if they find us?”