Gasping, his brother pushed off from the tree trunk to grasp Hamish’s shoulders. “I would never want—”
“Mum would’ve.” She had been almost disappointed when he had returned with the bear that’d taken the life of her daughter-in-law and granddaughter. “She would’ve preferred I had died to that bear than be involved with any man.”
“That’s nae true.”
“But it is.” He shook free of his brother’s hold. “Mum forsakes those she cannae control. She would rather consider Caitlyn as having never existed because our sister has magic. She sees me as defective because I like men.” And he had believed there was something wrong with him for so long until Darshan showed him the truth.
“That—”
“Caitlyn’s condition—” Hamish all but spat the word. “—cannae be ignored or altered. Mine can. At least, as far as Mum’s concerned.” He had lost count of how many times she had attempted to negotiate with him, as if the right conditions would make him amenable to lying with a woman. “I’m tired of living by her rules. We shouldnae have to. She’s our Mum, nae the bloody Goddess.”
“But she is the queen. What sort of precedent would it set if we disobeyed her every order in favour of our whims?”
The wrong sort. At least, that was what his mother always proclaimed. Once, he would’ve readily agreed with such an answer. “What I have isnae a whim,” he muttered. “I just want to be with him, to be me without having to look over me shoulder every other breath.” Was that really such a bad thing to crave?
His brother grasped his shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. “This isnae the same and you ken it. She should nae have announced the contest, nae when she was aware how miserable it would make you.”
“Then it is fortunate I am here, is it not?” a familiar voice piped up.
Hamish jerked his head around to find his lover standing nearby. Heat rushed to his face like a bonfire. How much had the man heard?
Darshan held a practice bow awkwardly before him as if he had wandered into his parent’s bedchamber. He wore the drab attire he had donned on their way to the cloister, likely in an effort to blend in with the rest of the castle inhabitants. The glasses kind of ruined the effect. “Should I come back later?”
“There is nae later.” Over the man’s shoulder, Hamish spied the boys huddled around the tree they had been aiming at earlier. At least they would’ve been less likely to have heard them.
“Where have you been?” Gordon asked. “I thought ‘Mish told you the way.”
“He had. I was merely taking the opportunity to arrange a few personal matters whilst I had the time.”
Never one to be brushed off so easily, Gordon narrowed his eyes at the man. “What matters?”
Darshan held up his hand, the digits absent of their customary jewellery. “Nothing sinister. You can take the suspicious look off your face. It is just your mother is unlikely to be amenable to me winning.”
“That’s an understatement and a half,” Hamish muttered. If only they could be certain of her reaction, then they would be able to plan better. Assuming the worst was the best chance they had.
His lover gave him a grim smile. “Quite. And rather than rely on her following with convention regardless of her feelings towards me, I figured it would be prudent to seek out back up measures upon which to fall.”
“You went back to the trader’s guild,” Hamish said. If his mother reacted as badly as he believed, then having immediate access to funds would see them on their way to Minamist a lot faster. Although, the lack of a ship sailing anywhere near their destination for another week did mean leaving Mullhind over land.
Darshan bowed his head. “I did.” There was a lingering bitterness to the words, warning Hamish exactly how the man had faired before Darshan could speak further. “Sadly, the woman I spoke to last time was absent and her successor is quite unwilling to loan me any further funds without my previous debt having been paid off.”
“That is a wee bit unfortunate,” Gordon said, his brother’s falsely light-hearted tone doing little to lift Hamish’s spirits. “But we’ve a slightly more pressing matter to get you through before then.” He indicated the practice bow still held before Darshan as if it would somehow loose an arrow on its own. “Have you ever used a bow?”
Darshan regarded the weapon and grimaced. “Not since the hunting expeditions my father would take us on in my childhood. It is considered a commoner’s weapon of choice back home. But I have seen both of you use them often enough during our travels. I am certain it will come back to me with practice.”
Pursing his lips, Gordon’s gaze slid to Hamish. His brother arched a brow at him.
Hamish could only shrug in response. If Darshan couldn’t wield a bow, then he would be forced to forfeit the final trial.
“A day willnae give you much time to practice in.”
Seemingly unfazed, Darshan slid an arrow from Hamish’s quiver. “The method of use is a simple principle. Nock the arrow.” He did the act smoothly enough. Not a clean movement, but better than most novices. “Pull back the string.” Darshan’s arm shook as he drew the bow to its full strength. There was a faint grunt and all was still again.
Hamish shuffled on the spot. He tried to remain silent, but the urge to instruct was too great to contain. “I wouldnae try to shoot with your arm like—”
“Nonsense. All I need to do is aim and…”
The arrow whistled through the trees, spinning in a pitiful arc before bouncing across the grass.
“Good job,” his brother muttered, resuming his lean against the yew trunk. “If you were aiming for the ground.”
Darshan whirled, glaring at Gordon.
“Your posture was wrong,” Hamish said
