Potential lover, he staunchly reminded himself. They weren’t quite there yet, but he was rather optimistic. And eager to please.
His thoughts drifted back to yesterday, of the hot press of Hamish over him, his weight passively pinning him to the mattress. He had almost lost his mind when Hamish had manhandled him, lifting him like he weighed nothing. And the ferocious way he’d claimed Darshan with his mouth, consuming like a starving man. To have to contain himself for over a decade…
Well, he did like his men feisty and there was a definite keenness lurking beneath the uncertain facade. If Hamish made love with the same passion simmering under the surface, Darshan would either find himself faced with a lust-hungry beast or something more akin to a giddy virgin. Best prepare for either option. Although, the latter seemed more likely given the man’s temperament.
Darshan slowed to glance up at the sky as he sauntered by a window. He never could quite grasp the art of telling the time of day beyond a few basics. What had Hamish claimed the hour was before he had descended? Late afternoon. That left him with precious little time to bathe and make himself presentable.
Had they really spent so long talking? They’d mostly spoken about frivolous things; like how the ruin Darshan had seen poking through the trees in the distance were the remains of a cloister, or that Hamish wasn’t fond of the colour blue. That last bit had been a surprise, any noble back home who’d been blessed with eyes as vibrant as Hamish’s would seek out ways to complement them. And there were so many ways.
He was vaguely aware of rounding a bend in the corridor, his thoughts lost to the possibilities.
Already, he could picture the man sporting a sherwani that accented such a trait. Understated. Off-white with a bit of ice-blue brocade. Or just the gems themselves, sparkling out between the silver and pearl needlework. He would need a scarf to match, although that might take a little persuading. Perhaps a deep ocean blue—not quite black, but close—would be best. Or something in slate.
“Your highness,” a familiar woman’s voice called out, jolting him from his reverie.
Darshan glanced over his shoulder to find Nora trotting after him, clutching a leather satchel that seemed to contain quite a few pieces of parchment. He slowed, but made no effort to stop. He wasn’t exactly in the mood to talk trade, especially not with Queen Fiona.
“Where were you?” Nora demanded as if he were a wayward child. She fell into step with him. “I looked everywhere for you.”
A quick survey of their surrounding confirmed they were alone. “Evidently not, but to answer your question: I was on the eastern tower.”
She shot him a confused look. “Not that one near the cliff edge.” Her nose scrunched further as he nodded. “What were you doing up there? They abandoned that tower years ago in favour of the new watchtower. I wouldnae think it’d hold much of interest, it’s practically a shell and the view is nothing to harp about.”
He smiled. Similar words had once left his lips of the view back home, until he had stumbled upon a visiting dignitary from the northern edge of Udynea admiring the docks. Familiarity leant itself to blindness. “I would disagree on that front. There was a great deal to look at and I thoroughly enjoyed the view.”
“Of the harbour?” The corridor they were travelling down split into two. Nora took the left one and Darshan idly trailed her. “I thought Minamist was also a port city?”
He inclined his head. “You are correct there.” Although, comparing the two was a little like oil and water.
The bay of his home city was huge, although not quite as massive as the Shar, a lake which took up a good portion of the lower half of the Udynea Empire’s land. Called Sinus Luminis when under the control of the Domian Empire, a civilisation that had fallen centuries ago, the Bay of Light was now the territory of both the Udynea Empire and the neighbouring imperial lands of Stamekia. Only a small strip of shallow water, nicknamed the Throat of Death by sailors, kept the harbour from being an actual lake.
To compare that bay to the hook-like inlet that shaped Tirglas was almost an insult. The deep blue waves that lapped at the shores here were nothing in comparison to the crystal-blue waters of home. To look upon the Bay of Light was to bear witness to how the gods could take the essence of a simple jewel and turn it to liquid.
His gaze dropped pointedly to the satchel. It looked a great deal like the one she’d had sitting beside her during their last attempt at settling trade. Had Queen Fiona managed to reel in her poisonous tongue so quickly? It seemed at odds with what Hamish had divulged. “How is it I may be of assistance?” Whilst he was in no mood to deal with the woman’s mother, shunning Nora as a matter of course sounded more like something one of his petty sisters would do.
“I was thinking that we could retire to the library and discuss trade.”
Darshan fought down a groan. If he allowed Nora to steal away what time he had left to him before Hamish’s arrival at the guest quarters, he could quite possibly return there to find the man had already visited and left.
But, as much as he would’ve liked to, putting pleasure before duty was how he had gotten here. “You do realise that, without the queen’s final approval, anything we agree on here is ultimately fruitless.”
“Perhaps.” They reached an intersection in the corridor and Nora indicated for him to take the left passage with the gentle sweep of her hand. “But if we hammer out the fine details, then we can limit the time you need to be in me mum’s good graces.”
Darshan grunted. Given what he’d heard so
