Hamish whistled as he reached for his undershirt and pulled it on. “I dinnae think me tongue will get around a fancy word like that.” And if it was always so bitterly cold, then it sounded like something uttered only after it was done to a person.
“Fancy?” Darshan scoffed. “It is merely common Udynean. Loosely translates as the change of seasons. It only sounds strange because it is foreign. How do you think I felt when I was learning your language?”
“Aye, but still…” He shrugged into his overcoat. Languages had always been his older siblings’ speciality. For Nora, it made trading easier, whilst Gordon found any disputes along the border were often settled through conversing rather than the use of the weapons their mother preferred to brandish whenever the moment arose.
Darshan leant against the table, cocking one hip as he casually drummed his fingers on the old water-stained wood. “The things I have witnessed your tongue get around, a few fancy words should be little bother. However…” He breached the space between them, his hands gliding up Hamish’s chest, those seeking fingers already entwining themselves into the cloth. “If you insist otherwise, I could loosen it for you.”
Their lips touched and there it was again; ancient fire radiating a bone-deep warmth. It shuddered through Hamish, drawing strength even as it gave plenty more in return. His lover clung to him, restrained desire shaking through his grip.
He pulled Darshan closer, trying so very hard not to snicker as a small whimpering moan escaped the man.
The door creaked open.
Hamish all but shoved Darshan away. He glared at the man as he noticed how dishevelled his clothes were. He hastily tugged them into some semblance of order. Could the spellster not do something as simple as kissing without pawing at him like a bear seeking to break open a chicken coop?
“And just what are you two doing?”
Nora’s voice had Hamish whipping his head around to the dreadful twinge of objecting muscle.
His sister stood in the doorway, clutching a small stack of books. She arched a brow at them, the quirk of her lips suggesting she already knew the answer. “Or should I say were?” She shook her head. “Nae exactly the ideal spot for it.”
Heat flooded Hamish’s face. Being almost caught snogging in the library by his sister… He groaned. Was there any worse fate the Goddess could’ve thought up? Mum. At least his luck hadn’t turned that sour. “You’ve got it all wrong. We were just—”
“I am tutoring him,” Darshan blurted. Unlike himself, the spellster looked as immaculate as ever. His focus seemed to be on donning the many rings he had discarded earlier. “Teaching him my native tongue, as it were. As I mentioned to you this morning.”
Nora’s eyes remained fixed on Hamish, narrowing the longer Darshan talked. “You ken that Mum doesnae wish for you to leave Tirglas, right?”
Hamish grunted. If their mother had her way, he wouldn’t seek a breath unless she told him to. “Doesnae mean I cannae learn the language.” There would be plenty of chances to use such knowledge within Mullhind, especially once the trade negotiations were finally agreed upon.
His sister’s entire bottom lip disappeared into her mouth as she shook her head. Setting the books down amongst the others already on the table, Nora swung her attention to Darshan. “This is all we have with any Udynean translations, your imperial highness. And I’m meant to inform you that me mum wishes to see you in her study.”
All at once, the library seemed colder. Had his mother been told about his disappearance last night? Did she believe he had been out drinking with Gordon or had she seen through the lie? Nora’s tone had been hopeful. Perhaps she saw a means to have the negotiations end.
Disappointment settled in his gut at the thought of Darshan leaving so soon. Was there a way to delay finalisations that wouldn’t also see the man banished from Tirglas like the dwarven ambassador?
“Thank you,” Darshan replied. “And, please, inform her that I shall be there presently.”
Inclining her head, Nora shuffled back out of the library as swiftly as she had entered.
Hamish waited only until the door closed before speaking, “Teaching me your native tongue?”
Darshan chuckled. “Abysmal, I know. I simply could not resist.” His gaze slid back from the door. “What’s with the head shake? I do not believe I misspoke. The word also means language, does it not?”
“Aye. Although, I dinnae recall much usage of this…” Hamish stuck out his tongue at the man and pointed to it.
A small smile curved his lover’s lips. “Well, you hardly need tutoring in it,” he breathed, leaning back against the table. “But if you insist, I could refresh your memory.” He stretched his arms out behind him in what had to be the most nonchalant manner Hamish had observed in a long time.
The stack of books sitting just on Darshan’s left chose that moment to slide unceremoniously across the table, seemingly without a soul touching them.
Hamish tipped his head to one side, trying to see around his lover without being too obvious. Darshan’s hand had knocked a long, thin box that’d been tucked against the books.
A blush in full bloom spread across Darshan’s face. He straightened, surreptitiously tucking the box behind his back. “Oh, I actually came bearing gifts. Well, one,” he swiftly amended.
“The box?” It might’ve been big enough for a child’s belt knife or boot dagger, maybe even a few trinkets at a stretch, but they were the type of gifts children were given during the midwinter festival.
Shock swiftly dropped Darshan’s jaw. “How did you—?” Sighing, he produced the box and offered it. “Yes, this. You are most welcome to open it here, but I would advise against waving it around.”
A strange gift. He had passed the point of trinket collecting and his hunting dagger was far too large to fit inside. Nevertheless, good workmanship had been involved in the box’s design. It was fairly nondescript, though. No markings or
