A strange scent drifted on the air, like the sea after a thunderstorm. A glance at the window confirmed only clear sky with the shadows indicating it was far later than he had originally presumed.
Beyond time his guest left.
Darshan slid his fingers into Hamish’s beard, cupping his jaw and tilting Hamish’s head up. The man’s thumb stroked from the corner of Hamish’s mouth, continuing on across his cheek, following the natural lay of his beard. He bent forward, their lips close enough to share breath.
Reflexively, Hamish withdrew. “Have you forgotten where me mouth’s just been?” No man he had ever been with had wanted to kiss afterwards.
Darshan shook his head, his eyes creased with amusement. “Come here.” He threaded his fingers into Hamish’s hair, holding him fast as their mouths met. Darshan’s tongue parted their lips, moving in gentle strokes.
By the time Darshan let them separate, Hamish was breathless.
He wobbled on hands and knees to the bed post, using it to steady himself as he stood. The man’s smalls were draped over the edge of the bed. Hamish gently tossed them back to their owner. “You have to go.”
Darshan blinked up at him, those hazel eyes still dazed with pleasure. “Go?” he echoed, frowning. “I just got here.”
Hamish nodded. How he wished he didn’t have to do this. But if there was any chance, any minuscule possibility, of Darshan being more than another one-time fling—even if only for the duration of his stay—then the ambassador had to leave now. “Tomorrow, climb up the cliffward tower at noon. I promise, I’ll explain everything then, but you have to leave now.”
On legs made uncertain by excessive kneeling, Hamish crossed the room to the door. Pressing an ear to it revealed nothing. Peeking showed only empty corridor. They had time.
Glancing back revealed Darshan still lounging on the bed.
“Please,” Hamish stressed. “Before the first guards arrive for the evening shift.”
“You will have sentries outside your door? Still?” Even puzzled and questioning, the man hastened to dress.
I always do. Yesterday’s kiss wouldn’t have changed anything beyond making them more vigilant. “Tomorrow. Noon. Cliffward tower.”
Darshan pressed a hand to Hamish’s chest. “I shall be waiting.” Adjusting his glasses, he slipped out the door, trailing the room’s heat and that strange thunderstorm scent.
Hamish leant on the door. If Darshan hastened down the corridor, then he would avoid the guards. That would just leave tomorrow. Bubbling uncertainty joined the mixture of relief and lingering lust already churning in his stomach.
How, in the name of the Goddess Almighty, was he ever going to explain his predicament to a man who’d never had to hide himself?
Darshan stared out at the view his elevated position afforded him. The city of Mullhind stretched out far below, buildings set in clumps rather than the strict curves and lines of home. To his left, the remains of a large building tentatively peeked out from the treetops. The breeze drifted in from the sea, colder and sharper than the warm salty tang of Minamist’s onshore winds. He clutched the parapet and breathed deeply nevertheless.
This small space atop the western tower seemed almost remote. He hadn’t met another soul on his way up here.
An explanation. That’s what he’d been promised. Did he really want one? Was it even needed? It seemed pretty straightforward. The man was terrified of being caught, of his mother and her punishments. Which, if he wasn’t mistaken, must have involved locking Hamish in his room for days on end.
If he could find a way to get the man far from here…
Darshan dug his fingers into the edge of the parapet. This is not your fight. From the way others around them had reacted to a simple kiss, it was clear enough that what he’d done was seen as unacceptable. Practically criminal. Any further interference from him could only make things worse. Hamish didn’t deserve that.
So, he lingered.
All this would’ve been simpler back home. His father might not approve of him bouncing from one fling to the next, but he was at least permitted to be himself. To a point. There was a line. Crossing it was how he had ended up in Tirglas.
The faint creak of hinges heralded the arrival of another.
Darshan squared his shoulders. He twisted part way around, peering over his shoulder to check that it was indeed Hamish who shared this small space, an excuse on his tongue in the faint off chance someone else had seen him come up here.
Hamish stood halfway out of the trapdoor, those sapphiric eyes wide and his mouth gaping like a stunned fish. “I didnae think you’d actually be waiting.”
“Well, I am apparently owed an explanation.”
“Aye.” Hamish rubbed at his neck. “About that. You see—”
“I have been thinking,” Darshan interrupted. If he let Hamish just explain, then the man might not stay to discuss anything else and he wasn’t ready to leave it at that. “The other day? When your mother called me ungodly… amongst other things?” he mumbled, turning his gaze on the harbour. He would not let those words bother him. He’d been called far worse in the Crystal Court, some of them even to his face.
Another glance behind him revealed Hamish had climbed the rest of the way out of the trapdoor. He looked a touch off-colour. Clearly, not at all prepared for a theological debate. But then whoever was? Beyond those who dedicated their lives to service of their deity, at least.
“I am well aware we have different beliefs,” Darshan continued. “But I will admit to some curiosity. Your people worship a single Goddess, correct?” His tutors hadn’t considered such information important enough to more than touch on it during his briefings, but he remembered that much.
Hamish slowly nodded as he joined Darshan at the parapet, his heavy brows lowering in quiet confusion.
“And what does your Goddess think of…?” He waved his hand, indicating
