Ranulf straightened. “Your highnesses.” The warrior snapped a salute, likely more for Gordon than Hamish. “We were nae told your brother was with you.”
“Did you think to ask? We’ve been down at the Roaring Stag for a good part of the night.” Gordon patted Hamish’s chest, thumping just hard enough. “Would’ve been home sooner, but as you can see, me brother took a tumble off his horse on the way up. At a walk, nae less.” He barked a laugh and opened the door into Hamish’s room.
“Sure,” one of the other guards mumbled as Gordon guided Hamish through the doorway. The man’s face wasn’t one Hamish recognised. The unadorned band of leather around his bicep indicated him as a lowly swordsman in the army.
Had the man seen something earlier? Terror clogged Hamish’s throat. He didn’t believe anyone had seen him clinging for dear life outside the guest chambers, but it wasn’t exactly implausible. All it would’ve taken was for someone to look up.
Gordon halted in the doorway, fisting Hamish’s clothes in an effort to keep them steady as he slowly faced the guards. “A mighty piece of insinuation you’ve got in that tone there, lad. You dinnae believe me?”
Frowning, Ranulf nudged the man. “Answer your prince, swordsman.”
“N-nae, I—” The man shook his head, his barely-tanned face losing all colour. He bowed low. “I wouldnae dare accuse you of such, your highness.”
Gordon gave the man a curt nod. “I’ll just see me brother to bed, then. Cannae have him collapsing in the middle of the room.” He took up one of the lanterns and shuffled Hamish through the doorway.
The door clicked shut behind them.
“I cannae believe you got away with that,” Hamish muttered. He released his brother, taking a few lurching steps towards the bed before regaining his balance.
“Neither can I.” Gordon leant against the bedpost. “So, we’ve had our fill now? Because when you said you’d be sneaking off to spend time with him, I didnae think it’d be all bloody night.”
“It’s still dark.” After midnight, sure, but that meant only a few hours over the agreed-upon time. “And it wasnae meant to be that long.” Certainly not long enough to be in the position of almost being caught in the guest quarters. “I sort of… fell asleep.”
His brother arched a brow at him. “Was he that boring?”
Hamish shook his head, laughter bubbling in his chest. Boring was as about as far from how he would’ve described it as language went. He flopped back onto his bed, his arms spread across its length. “I think I’m in love.”
“Love?” Gordon echoed, pushing off the bedpost. “You met him four days ago.” He held up as many fingers in emphasis. “In that time you two have spent—what?—maybe the grand total of a day in each other’s presence? What you’re feeling is nae love.”
Maybe his brother was right, but Gordon hadn’t kissed the man. He hadn’t tasted the ancient fire in Darshan’s touch; a flame hotter than the sun, burning through sheer desperation and determination, radiating warmth from its very core. Nor had his brother felt the strength in which the spellster had clung to Hamish after dragging him through the window, heart-stopping fear lingering in those tight muscles.
“Fine,” he muttered. “If the lack of time with him bothers you, then find me way to spend more with him. I’ve already got tomorrow morning solved. He wants to meet with me in the library.”
“As if that doesnae sound ominous or anything.”
Hamish chuckled, throwing an arm over his eyes. “He said… something before I left,” he mumbled. Had Darshan meant it, though? Or had he just been trying to see how Hamish would react? “He was talking about me travelling to Minamist with him after the negotiations.” Whenever that finally happen depended largely on his mother opting to be in the same room as the ambassador she now seemed to outright loathe.
Perhaps backing off for a few days would give the illusion of Darshan abiding by her rules. It had always been the reasonable way to alleviate any suspicions his mother might’ve had about him and his brother sneaking out to be with whichever man fancied a few minutes with Hamish.
“Do you want to go?”
Hamish peered at his brother from beneath the crook of his elbow. Do I? He’d be far from home, literally on the opposite end of the continent. But like Darshan had said, he wouldn’t be constantly looking over his shoulder for his mother’s guards, wouldn’t need to worry at all.
He shrugged. “Maybe.” There were other reasons to stay, one very small and impressionable reason.
“What makes you even think it’ll work?” his brother pressed, annoyance creeping into his voice and creasing his forehead. “You go to Minamist with a man you barely ken and then what?”
“You sound like Mum,” he grumbled, pushing himself upright until he was perched on the side of the bed.
“I’m trying to be practical. What would you do in Udynea?” Gordon nudged him. “Besides the obvious. Or do you fancy yourself just as his bedwarmer?”
He glared at his brother. Darshan wouldn’t traipse him all that way just for one reason. Although… What had the man said? Never worry about any intervention on his sexual preferences? Darshan hadn’t specified Hamish’s time there had to be spent with him. He wasn’t entirely sure if that meant the man wouldn’t care if Hamish chose another over him, but he didn’t see any reason to find out.
“We dinnae have an ambassador in their lands,” Hamish mumbled, his mind only half on the topic. That was part of the reason why Udynea had sent one to them, why his mother allowed a foreign spellster to enter the kingdom. Nora had offered to travel to Minamist—via horse, which would’ve taken several months—but their mother had refused. “I could go.”
