Hamish shook his head. “Nae magic. As far as the guards are concerned, you’ve been asleep this whole time.”
“Understood.” He bowed his head. “I am sorry. It was not my intention to have you linger for so long.”
A soft smile fattened Hamish’s cheeks and creased the corners of those sapphiric eyes. “Me too,” he breathed. He swung to the door, his hand on the key.
A knock came from the other side of the door before Hamish could unlock it. Three precise bangs on the wood; brisk and verging slightly on the presumptuous side. Someone who had come for a purpose and wasn’t afraid to show their authority.
Hamish froze. Terror drained all the life from his face. Those wide eyes surveyed the room, taking in what Darshan already knew. There was nowhere for him to hide.
“Ambassador,” a deep voice commanded from the other side of the door. “Let us in.”
Hamish’s fear-struck gaze settled on him, imploring.
Darshan wordlessly padded to the window. The curtains weren’t long enough to reach the floor and the guards were bound to look behind them. Same went for under the bed.
He flung open the windowpanes. Cold air rushed to greet him. He could practically feel the hairs on his bare chest straining to stand straight.
Sticking his head out the window had him bearing the full force of the night wind ripping up from the sea. The salt air stung his nose and watered his eyes, but he still sought for a place Hamish could hide. Hanging onto the window ledge was unacceptable and dismissed with barely a thought. There were no cracks to cling to, either. No chinks in the mortar or bricks out of line far enough for a decent handhold.
Any other time, he would be amazed how Tirglasian masons managed such uniformity without magic. Right now, he was rather disgusted by it.
The guards still hammered on the door.
He pulled his head back in and eyed his lover. “How much do you weigh? Three hundred pounds? Four?”
“Probably?” Hamish snapped, the word hissing through his teeth. “There are a few boars me size, but I dinnae exactly weigh meself on the regular. Why?”
Nodding to himself, Darshan stepped back from the window. A large boar. Whilst he wasn’t sure how big those got, he had lifted a solid carthorse off the ground in the past. Not very high, though. It would take a fair bit of concentration, but he could manage that weight for a time. “Do you trust me?”
Suspicion narrowed his lover’s eyes and knotted his brows. “Do I have a choice?”
The hammering at the door grew heavier. Were the guards actually trying to knock it down? “You’ve until the count of ten to open up, Ambassador.”
Hamish’s gaze swung to the door. The doubt moulding his face crumbled into naked fear. If Darshan didn’t know better, he would’ve sworn the men on the other side were here to kill them.
Darshan wove his fingers between his lover’s, squeezing. “If you do not wish to get caught in my company…”
“One!” boomed the voice outside the room.
“I trust you,” Hamish whispered.
“Then do not move and try to keep your breathing shallow.” Like capturing a fly in the hands, he cupped a shield around Hamish. It was a small one, barely big enough to hold his lover, and dense through necessity.
“Two!”
Hamish’s mouth moved, his voice silenced by the shield. Definitely a question.
Darshan motioned him to silence. Lifting Hamish, shield and all, was far harder than he had originally counted on. It rose sluggishly, but wholly under his command. Hopefully, he wouldn’t lose control over it before the guards left.
“Three!” the man continued to count.
Sideways movement was far easier. He pushed Hamish, shield and all, out the window. It stuttered as Hamish rocked, flattening himself against the wallward edge of the invisible shield. Darshan persisted, gliding everything to one side of the window. Hiding Hamish above the frame would’ve been better should the guards think to look beyond the room’s confines, but he didn’t think he could manage any higher.
“Four!”
Darshan quietly shut the window once Hamish was tucked out of sight. “Just hold on,” he shouted back. “I am coming!” After a few frantic heartbeats, he also closed the curtains. No need to make them suspicious.
He hurried across to the door, pausing only to extinguish a few of the candles and snatch up a cushion. He refused to seek a means to cover himself any further. If he could make the guards uncomfortable in his naked presence, then perhaps they would leave all the sooner. He wasn’t certain how long he could hold Hamish in the air, even pressed against the castle wall. Already, the pressure of it pounded in his brain. Akin to a nagging headache at his temple that threatened to burrow deeper should he choose to ignore it.
Darshan unlocked the door and jumped back as three guards stampeded through the doorway. They spread out around the room, filling the space and then some like mongooses attempting to track a hooded serpent.
“Is there a problem?” he asked, keeping his voice light. He clung to the door with one hand, clutching the cushion in the other.
“His highness,” one of the men rumbled, his dark gaze keenly surveying his surroundings rather than focusing on whom he addressed. Like most Tirglasians Darshan had seen, the guard was a big man; dark of hair and pale of skin. “Prince Hamish is missing from his quarters.”
“And
