Hamish shook his head, already reaching for his belt buckle. There was a numb quality to the action. Wherever his thoughts had gone, it wasn’t on the task. “After,” he mumbled.
“Talk to me, mea lux.” Darshan clasped his lover’s hands, pulling them from the belt buckle and to his lips. “I am here for you.”
“Nae for much longer,” his lover muttered, that red-edged gaze cast aside.
Try as Darshan might, the right words refused to make themselves known much less make their way to his lips.
Yes, he would only be here for the duration of the trade negotiations—they’d always known that—but if Queen Fiona refused to speak with him, then his time in Tirglas could become quite short indeed. Not for another fortnight, at least. That was the earliest any ship was heading for a Udynean port. At least, according to Nora’s copy of the Mullhind docking schedule and that was only providing the appointed ship arrived here in due time.
Then he would return to the Crystal Court in Minamist. Whereas Hamish would be here, forced into his old way of life. Worse still, there was little either of them could do about that without having Tirglasian troops scouring the land or tailing Darshan back home.
“Tell me what is wrong,” Darshan urged. “Maybe I cannot help with it, but that does not mean you need to bear whatever burden you do alone.”
“Help?” Hamish all but growled. Rage and hurt fought for control across his face, darkening his eyes. “You already ken what I need from you.”
“That is not happening. Not here. Not whilst you are like this.” Gods, he would never forgive himself if he even thought of taking advantage of the man when he was clearly distraught over something.
“Fine,” Hamish spat. “If you willnae give…” He grabbed Darshan’s hips, bodily lifting him onto the table.
Indignance had magic humming along Darshan’s skin before he could think to use it. One blast of air was enough to send Hamish staggering back.
He slammed a shield around himself, keeping one hand outstretched to warn Hamish back should his lover attempt to rush him. What madness had taken over the man? “No one manhandles me without my permission and you are most certainly not in the right frame of mind to get that. Nor will I give my word until you tell me what is wrong.”
Rather than move, or answer, Hamish stood between two bookshelves, trembling.
Just when Darshan thought his lover might not reply, Hamish slumped into a nearby chair. “Everything,” he whispered. He laughed, a soft and mirthless sound. Broken emotion looking for an outlet. “It’s all gone so wrong and I… I dinnae ken what to do.”
Darshan shuffled closer, dropping his shield. “I take it your mother is no more inclined towards letting you leave?” He could see how that would indeed be a concern, but his lover hadn’t mentioned anything throughout their travels that would’ve indicated any further barriers than those already in play.
Had conversing with Queen Fiona brought the situation back into the forefront of his concerns? Or was his lover now privy to new information?
Hamish shook his head. “Less so, if you can believe it. I—” His shoulders seemed to grow as he inhaled noisily. Whatever the case, the act appeared to give him strength. “I’m sorry. I dinnae ken what came over me. I just—”
Wanted to feel something. Darshan knew that feeling. It had become an old bedfellow of his a long time ago. He wrapped his arms around Hamish’s shoulders, straddling one of the man’s legs to get close enough, and squeezed.
His lover’s arm snaked behind Darshan, drawing him closer. Not with the same desperate urgency as before, but just as firmly.
“Whatever is wrong,” Darshan murmured against Hamish’s temple. “You do not need to tell me now. But sex is most definitely off the table until we have talked.”
Hamish lifted his head, wiping away the thin trace of tears from his face. “I also feel a little bad that you didnae get to see a bear on our way back.” He stood, his face swiftly regaining the unflappable poise Darshan had come to witness during their travels. “How about I take you to one nae that far from here?”
“As in now?” Why the urgency? Was there something dangerous within the castle? To Hamish?
To me? The thought darted across the others swarming his mind like a bird across a pond, bringing with it a faint buzz of anticipation. It had been years since he’d come face to face with any actual danger. Was Queen Fiona planning on locking him away in a cloister like she had done with her own daughter? I’d like to see her try.
Tucking the thought neatly away in the back of his mind, Darshan cleared his throat and continued his current line of enquiry. “Why would we seek to leave when we have just returned?”
“Because now is the best time. Your things are still packed and we’ll get a few hours of travel in. Maybe even get to see her emerge from her lair near morning.” Something still rang hollow in his words. What had shaken the man so?
Darshan hummed, idly rubbing his moustache with a forefinger. Would removing Hamish from the palace free his lover from the cloud of whatever had put the pain in his eyes? A hurt that still lingered there despite the smiles. Or would it aid in shaking free the truth?
Only one way to know…
~~~
Hamish lay on his back, staring at the canvas canopy of the tent stretched above them. Leaving the castle had been laughably easy, involving no more subterfuge than leading their mounts out the gates whilst a crowd of others rode in. The guards had been too busy dealing with the newcomers to glance their way.
He had caught glimpses of what was
