“I do hope I am not intruding.” Darshan’s boots thumped alarmingly loud as he strode across the bare floorboards. “I thought you might like the company.”
Seemingly convinced they were still alone, Hamish relaxed against the railing and shook his head. “You’re blending particularly well with the shadows tonight.” He waved a hand to indicate Darshan in his entirety. “Nae seen you in anything beyond pale colours before. It’s an imposing look.”
Darshan ran a smoothing hand over the black-dyed silk of his sherwani. It had a different, more modern, cut to the others; a little shorter and more open at the thigh. Bits of obsidian and jet had been woven into the dark embroidery and black pearls accented the buttons. Imposing? Not enough to stop women from approaching him for a dance. “I thought, given the nature of the celebrations, a sombre change of pace was called for.”
“Few would agree with you on this being a solemn affair.”
Indeed not, for the band continued on with their torture of that dreadful screeching instrument; harsh on his ears even at a distance. The musicians stood in the centre of the great hall whilst the dancers circled them in ever-widening rings. The dancers trotted a few steps one way, then the other, all in perfect unison. Their laughter and cavorting joined the clamour.
“You seemed to have enjoyed yourself down there,” Darshan said once the cacophony of jumbled notes they dared to call music had stopped. “Although, your dancing was a little on the stiff side.”
Hamish grunted. “I havenae danced like that in a good long while. Nae since Muireall died. Me dance partners were fortunate that I remembered the steps.”
A fresh wave of music drifted up like a hazy melody. Familiar in tune, if not the dance the crowd had paired off to twirl to.
“Then perhaps you need a different type of partner.” Darshan gently entwined their fingers and pulled them closer together. “One who will take the lead?” The faint aroma of the bitter alcohol his lover fancied reached Darshan’s nose. Had he imbibed a few draughts for courage?
Hamish glanced over the railing. With the hall in full light, no one seemed to pay any mind to them; two shadows in the dark. Nevertheless, uncertainty clouded his lover’s face.
“There is no one up here but us,” Darshan gently reminded him. “I rather doubt anyone can see us from below and your brother guards the only entrance.” Ostensibly, to keep any competitors from embarrassing themselves before Hamish. “I am quite sure we can manage a little dancing without causing a scandal.” All night, he had yearned for just one twirl with his lover. A few steps in the dark was likely the best he would get whilst still in Tirglas.
That would change once he got Hamish home, even if he had to drag his lover out into the middle of the dance hall. He had grown so weary of keeping everything secret.
“One dance,” Hamish whispered.
Darshan gently led Hamish through the steps, mindful of keeping any foray near the railing brief lest the unlikely chance the sharp eye of an elven servant actually caught them. His lover followed smoothly enough, allowing him to increase the speed with each four-measure beat until they’d caught up to the music.
Risking a little twirl towards the balustrade, Darshan glanced at the cavorting below. Last night, Queen Fiona’s guards had been in full force. They’d shadowed Hamish, lingering in the man’s presence like a bad smell. “I’m glad to have found you so easily. How ever did you get your mother’s guards and escorts to leave you be?”
“Me mum called them off.”
Shock almost had him mistiming a step. He recovered, sweeping them further from the railing. “How fortuitous.”
“Nae really.” He shrugged, seemingly unconcerned about the end to an issue Darshan clearly recalled the man panicking over just a few weeks back. “It doesnae matter anymore, nae now the union contest has begun. She kens I’ll marry whoever wins before I risk a civil war.”
Darshan gnawed on his lip. With the festive air in the hall, it was hard to imagine the dread hanging over this competition like a shroud. The bit that pained him the most was how right Queen Fiona was. If Darshan didn’t win, then his lover would marry one of the others.
He just couldn’t see Hamish living long after then.
“I’ve nae danced with a man before,” Hamish said, drawing Darshan back from his thoughts. “Am I doing it right?”
Forcing a smile, Darshan swallowed the bile threatening to vacate his stomach. “I would never be able to tell had you not told me. You have yet to stand on my toes or anything else so ungainly.” He grinned. “Unlike some of the others I have danced with in the past.” So many of the men he chose were used to leading and it was often their first time in letting another take the reins.
His lover’s soft gasp of laughter warmed Darshan’s cheeks and creased Hamish’s eyes. Not once did his gaze leave Darshan’s face. His eyes almost glowed in the faint light. Like a fire burning through the night that refused to go out.
My flame. Darshan reflexively wet his lips. What was it his father used to say about eternal flames? “You know all those chaotic feelings people equate to love?” he mumbled, aware that his face was growing hotter with each word. “The fluttering, the sick to your stomach nervousness?”
Hamish bowed his head. “Aye, I ken that feeling well.”
“My father used to say none of that happens when you are with your eternal flame.” That was supposedly how a person was to know they’d found the right one. He’d never believed it possible until now. “You just feel warm, like basking on a midsummer’s day. Only in here.” Darshan tapped his chest. “All the chaos in the world starts to make sense. You can live your whole life in darkness and never know what that is truly like until there is light to judge
