He drifted, dreamlessly.
Safe.
Hamish rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling of the guest chambers. How long had he slept? He peeked under his upraised arm at the window. The velvet blue of night still brushed the sky, but there was a flush of pink suggesting dawn wasn’t too far away.
The faint crinkle of a page being turned caught his ear. Darshan sat on the other half of the bed with his legs stretched out. A globe of light hovered over his shoulder and a book sat open on his lap.
His lover glanced over as Hamish went to sit up, a faint frown lowering his brow before the creases morphed into ones of happiness. He carefully closed the book and set it on the bedside table. “I take it we are feeling better?”
Hamish nodded, warmth flooding his face. “Have you been awake this whole time?” Watching over him like a parent with a storm-shook child.
“I have dozed here and there, but for the most part, yes. Do not worry, I shall be fit to compete.” He grinned, although the corners of his mouth wavered slightly. “And, once I win, I plan on taking you straight to Minamist.”
“Sounds prudent.” He didn’t think his mother would allow them to stay for a second longer than it took for them to gather their things. If she gave them that small measure of grace.
Darshan chuckled breathlessly. “I actually cannot wait to see the look on my father’s face when he learns that his heir finally married. He has rather resigned himself to the idea that I will not do so and—”
“So, it’s true,” Hamish murmured. “Your title, vris Mhanek? It means you’re the crown prince.” Small wonder the man’s father despaired of his son chasing after men.
Mild surprise, mixed with a heavy dose of confusion, slackened his lover’s face. “In a manner of speaking, I suppose so. Directly translated, it means Eldest Son of the Great One.”
Eldest. He let his arm thump back onto his forehead. Everything his sister had told him was true. Darshan had risked exposing his true nature, and quite possibly starting a civil war, for a future neither of them could have. The heir to the throne couldn’t take a husband.
“Why did you nae tell me?” Hamish whispered, the lump in his throat barely letting him form the words. “Why wasnae that one of the first things you taught me?” Then he wouldn’t be sitting here with his hopes shattered. He wouldn’t have helped Darshan back himself into an impossibility.
Darshan’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you speak as if this is new to you? I thought you were aware what vris Mhanek meant, that it was the one Udynean phrase you already knew.”
He shook his head. “I thought it just meant prince.” He should’ve known better than that. Darshan had never once made mention of any brothers. Only sisters.
His lover’s lips flattened until his mouth was a thin, narrow slit barely distinguishable beneath his moustache. “My apologies for thinking they taught you anything about my people beyond the negatives. If I had known, I would have divulged it. I was hardly keeping the fact I am vris Mhanek a secret. How did you find out?”
“Nora told me after the last trial.” Where she had dug up the information, he didn’t know. “One thing didnae add up for us, though. Why would your father send his heir to the other side of the continent to negotiate trade?”
Darshan nonchalantly lifted a shoulder. “I told you that already. This was meant to be my punishment.”
Hamish had vague memories of that conversation. There’d been so many things that had swamped the Mhanek’s motive behind sending his son so far away. To a land where men didnae lay with men. He recalled the reason for that rightly enough. “For sleeping with a betrothed man.” That had sounded barely plausible when Darshan had been just another of royal blood. Being the heir made the punishment seem even less likely.
“That part was the least of my father’s issue with my actions.” His lover’s expression was akin to the looks Hamish would expect from one of his nephews after being caught doing something they shouldn’t. “The feud I inadvertently caused rather upset generations of careful marriage arrangements. I think I may have cost an entire household to lose their estate. And possibly their lives.”
“Marriages in Udynea are arranged?” It wasn’t unheard of in some of the more rural communities, and he supposed the union contest could be viewed in such a manner, but marriages in Tirglas were typically done without formal arrangements.
“Not all of them. But everything in the nobility hinges on power. Specifically the strength you can call upon. Families with strong magical bloodlines unite to make them even stronger. That sort of union does not generally happen without a bit of nudging in the right direction. Most arrangements are made after the first display of a child’s magic.”
“Did you have a betrothed?” Would he be expected to confront them for Darshan’s hand?
Darshan shook his head. “No one in my family was promised. My father is a rare example of marrying for love and he still carries a soft spot for it. He has helped settle spouses for a few of my sisters who sought marriage, but…” He briefly toyed with his rings before his hands slowly parted. “Once he wanted me to take a wife. Now, all he wants is for me to produce the next link in the chain.”
An heir. Something Darshan just wouldn’t get by being with him. Hamish rubbed the heel of his hand across his cheek. He’d been so close to believing this could work. “And there’s nae one else to take the throne if you didnae have a bairn?”
“I am my father’s eldest child and only son. The next in line, if I die today, is my nephew. Sadly, from my eldest half-sister.” Disgust soured the normally sure line of
