Darshan arched a brow at her in silent query, but Nora didn’t appear ready to divulge more without the man having to outright ask. She must’ve woken him with some sort of explanation involving Hamish for him to be here. Clearly, she hadn’t given him much in the way of details.
Shrugging, she indicated Darshan enter and left them alone.
His lover sat on the bed. He glanced at Hamish, the sleep-ruffled mess of his hair hanging almost morosely in front of his face. His lips parted, only for them to close. He looked for all the world like someone desperately trying to think of the words to say and falling short.
What could be said?
Out in the corridor, no less muffled with the shut door, Gordon had barely paused in his arguing. “Nae, you are the one in the wrong here, sneaking into me brother’s room and right into his bed.”
“I was invited,” the woman snapped back.
Nora scoffed. “Whilst he slept?”
“He was nae asleep.”
“Me brother says otherwise.”
“So you’re the type to believe a man’s word over a woman’s.” An oily slyness took her voice. The sound trickled coolly down Hamish’s spine.
There was a hissing intake of breath. Hamish didn’t need to see his sister to envision the white-hot rage tightening her features. “What I believe is me brother. And I doubt he gave you a glance never mind an invite. How do we ken you were nae there to assassinate him?”
“Clearly not,” his mother answered whilst the woman gabbled incomprehensibly. “Otherwise he would already be dead. I think that we should listen to her without throwing baseless accusations.”
Like a crippled ship in the tide, Hamish sank his face into his hands. A single, snivelling whine shuddered through him.
Darshan gently laid a hand on Hamish’s back, cautious as though he expected the flesh beneath his fingers to pull away upon contact.
Hamish sagged against the man. More sobs shook his body. Not loud bawling, but whimpers that were almost ashamed to reach anyone’s ears.
Darshan pulled him closer, pressing a cheek to Hamish’s temple. He whispered soothing sounds—no words, just a constant drone of noise that blocked all but the loudest arguing—and slowly rubbed small circles into Hamish’s back.
The faint sheen of his lover’s magic-made barrier shimmered around them. Did it also lend a hand in the sudden silence?
All at once, Darshan’s whole body stiffened. His breath seemed to still, but his body vibrated. His grip tightened around Hamish’s shoulders, his lover’s fingers curling possessively into linen and wool.
“What are you doing?” his mother demanded, the usual sharpness of her voice softened by the shield.
Hamish lifted his head from Darshan’s shoulder to the vision of his mother filling the doorway.
Nora slithered into the room to stand before their mother. Her broader frame neatly blocked Hamish’s view. “More for ‘Mish than you’ve ever done.”
“Go back to bed, Mum,” Gordon insisted. “We’ll handle this, same as always.”
“I think I should be the one to do that,” Darshan said before anyone else could utter a word. His grip on Hamish’s shoulders tightened. “In all honesty, I am probably the only one here who can relate to this.”
“Aye,” Nora mumbled, scrubbing her face. “It is probably for the best.”
Over her shoulder, Hamish spied his brother nodding. Even his father—having been little more than a silent hulk since his arrival—seemed to agree.
The long intake of his mother’s breath before she spoke sliced through their collective murmurs like a sword. “He—”
His father laid a firm hand on his mother’s shoulder. “Come on, lass. The last trial is due to be won in the morning. He’s done as you’ve asked. Let him have this.” He turned Hamish’s mother, even as she stammered to object, and guided her out of the room.
Nora followed, giving a worried glance over her shoulder before shutting the door. They were…
Alone. No angry voices lurking on the other side of the door. No fear of being caught, of being locked away whilst Darshan was shipped far from here like disease-ridden cargo.
He was free of all that had plagued him for the first time in a good long while. Until tomorrow. Then he would be expected to play the same ruse he had been forced into for years.
Hamish flopped forward, his head in his hands. His father was right. Tomorrow was the last trial. Everyone would be waiting for a new addition to the royal clan to be named. He was supposed to be aiming at his truest for not only himself, but Darshan. He’d barely been able to manage the latter in the time given to them.
Could he do it also whilst sleep-deprived?
“I would ask if you were all right,” Darshan said. “But I feel we both already know the answer to that.”
“Aye.” Even to his own ears, the word was cracked and shaky. Hamish lifted his head, peering out through coils of unbound hair. “But I feel a wee bit better now you’re here.” He took a deep breath, his whole body feeling as though it doubled in size. “I’ll be fine. Glad I wear me smalls to bed, but fine.”
Darshan’s brows lowered. His lips twisted, clearly trying to keep his disbelief from displaying on his face. And failing drastically. He returned to rubbing Hamish’s back. “You know I am here for you, right?”
Hamish nodded. “Have you really woken up with a strange woman in your bed?”
Grimacing, Darshan rubbed at his chin. “That was an outright lie,” he mumbled. “But you needed quiet. I am afraid the only vaguely comparable scenario was the time my father sent two women to my chambers. They did no more than extend the offer of joining them when I discovered them fornicating on my bed.”
Try as he might to avoid the cringeworthy image, it burrowed into his brain and ran its needle-like claws
