“That’s what I thought you’d say.” Sighing, Hamish got to his feet. “I suppose I best get to dancing if I dinnae want Mum objecting to me preference to stay here and talk.” Straightening his overcoat and visibly smoothing the strain of distaste from his features, Hamish bowed a formal farewell to Darshan before greeting the gaggle of waiting women.
Darshan gripped the edge of the table in an attempt to keep himself calm whilst watching Hamish dance. The vast majority of the women were alike in their single-mindedness. Their hands just a touch too accepting of where they landed and their fingers clearly digging in that little bit deeper than was proper.
Their attempts certainly weren’t going unnoticed by Hamish, either. How they managed to remain oblivious to their dance partner’s discomfort was beyond Darshan’s understanding.
The pungent scent of scorched wood hit Darshan’s nose. He hastened to stand and brush his soot-covered hands clean on a nearby napkin. Satisfied no one had witnessed the minor loss of control, he stalked across the hall for the exit. He would wind up doing something regretful if he lingered for much longer.
How he wished he could step out there, take Hamish’s hand and dance as if such a tame thing wouldn’t be viewed upon as some great scandal.
But if he did, if he showed one flicker of emotion towards the man that couldn’t also be construed as mere politeness, then everything they had been through these past few days would be for naught.
“vris Mhanek,” a woman called.
Curiosity turned Darshan’s head and halted his feet. “Now there is a title I have not heard for some time.”
The woman in question stood from her curtsey, her flowing wheat-gold hair artfully framing her round and flushed face. The ruddiness of her complexion failed to hide the smudge of blue dye streaking right across her nose and eyes. “Have you nae had a chance to dance with anyone tonight?”
“Not as yet, although I feel that stance is soon to change.” He held out his hand before she could speak further. “Would you care to?”
Her face froze save for the hasty flutter of her lashes. She dipped another curtsy, grasping his hand. When she stood straight again, her face was no longer so stiff. “I would be honoured, vris Mhanek.”
They twirled around the room, their feet barely keeping up with the quick beat. Whilst the woman wasn’t as graceful as some of his previous dance partners, she was fleet enough to avoid being trodden on and seemed to know the moves well enough to not have to look down at every turn. Unlike himself.
On the edge of his vision, he spied Hamish still dancing with those he plucked from the seemingly endless line of women. Most of them would undoubtedly be those who, like his own dance partner, had failed the last trial.
“I hear you’ve negotiated new trade deals with our queen,” the woman said.
He smiled to himself. It had been just over a month since he had set foot in this wretched land for that purpose. It seemed like such a simpler time. “Our negotiations are still in the process.” Not that he fancied his chances of continuing down that path once the final trial was over. “Sadly, they stalled once this contest was announced.”
“Really? They say you’ve been here for weeks. Surely some things have been finalised.”
Chuckling, Darshan ignored the blatant attempt to garner information. “I see the gossip wheel runs just as smoothly here as in Minamist. What else does it say of me?”
“That you are…” She wrinkled her nose. “Or should I say were having an affair with his highness.”
“Oh really?” He managed to hide much of his shock in a laugh. “Which one?” He had a fair idea, but no point in handing over any morsel that gossip could use to his disadvantage.
“Prince Hamish.”
“Him?” His throat almost closed on the word. Had he been so uncaring towards the idea of hiding their romantic entanglement that he’d inadvertently announced the depths of it? “He is to be wed after this, is he not? It would be foolish on everyone’s part for him to behave in such a manner.”
“So you two are nae having it off? They say you kissed him in the first day of your arrival.”
“The second day,” he murmured, coming to a halt. “But that was an error on my part. I mistook his friendliness as something else entirely. Believe me, I am not having some clandestine affair with his highness.” He could hardly call it secret when almost the entirety of his lover’s family seemed to be aware of the situation. “Such things could lead to feuds and it would do none of our lands any good to embroil them in a war.”
She seemed to consider his words, those dark eyes narrowing to mere slits.
Darshan drew all of his focus to this one woman. With his magic buzzing through his body in search of an outlet, a gentle tap to her temple with a finger would be enough to knock her out. He would need to time it in order for the act to look as though she had fainted. Perhaps if he—
“I must’ve heard wrong,” the woman said, shrugging. She stepped back and gave him another curtsy. “My apologies, vris Mhanek. I meant no offence.”
“And none was taken.” He watched her passage as she left his side to flutter from one group of gossipers to the next. He would have to watch that nothing untoward reached the queen’s ears before tomorrow’s trial.
After that, they could gossip amongst themselves however they pleased.
Hamish sat perched on the edge of his bed, his face buried in his hands. It was the middle of the night. He should’ve been sleeping, preparing himself for the world to
