Darshan’s jaw twitched. He pressed his lips together, his top lip disappearing completely beneath his moustache. That hazel gaze remained rooted to the box. One brow lifted expectantly.
There was something inside? He hadn’t heard anything when he had turned it over.
Curious, Hamish lifted the lid. Inside sat a—
He slammed the box closed, his face burning. “What is this? I mean… I ken what it looks like.” His face grew hotter still. Dinnae wave it around indeed. Thank the Goddess no one else was in the library. “What the hell am I supposed to do with it?” he hissed.
Darshan chuckled, a wicked timbre that shimmied its way straight to Hamish’s groin. “You poor, sheltered thing.” He gently peeled back the lid. “It happens to be one of my toys. I did say I liked them.”
“Toy?” Hamish echoed. He rubbed at his neck, the skin beneath his fingertips an inferno. This was what his lover had meant by that? He had thought—
Nothing. Toys had always brought up the image of dolls or wooden blocks and swords for children. The suggestively-shaped, leather-bound item nestled inside the linen-lined box wouldn’t have been a consideration.
“Sadly, your lack of magic means you cannot make full use of its abilities, but…” A bejewelled finger rang across the toy’s length. “You just oil it up and—” Darshan grinned, a faint hint of redness touching his cheeks. “Do I really need to explain further?”
Again, Hamish closed the lid, gently this time. “Nae.”
A slightly puzzled frown creased the skin between Darshan’s brows. “No, you do not want it? Or no, you have no need for an explanation?”
“The last one.” He had already gathered its usage. “But why are you giving this to me?”
His lover ran a hand up Hamish’s arm almost idly. “So you can have a little fun when we cannot play together.” His soft smile fell. “Or if your mother finally catches us and throws me out of your… simply lovely kingdom. It is far less damaging to yourself than propositioning uncaring strangers.”
Hamish stepped back, his hip bumping into the padded arm of a chair. “Have you really used this?” He shook the box. “I thought— I mean… you like it that way, too?”
“Do you not?”
“Recently, aye,” he confessed. They might’ve only engaged in sex the once, but it had certainly been the best Hamish had ever experienced. He ran a thumb over the lid. His stomach knotted at the thought of trying it out.
Then an altogether wicked idea sprang to mind. “Could you show me how to use it?” The question was out before Hamish could reconsider.
His lover beamed, impious glee twinkling in his eyes. “I was hoping you would ask. Would you prefer this demonstration to be on you or myself?”
“To be honest, I hadnae thought that far.” He shrugged. “You?”
Darshan widened the distance between them and, for a moment, Hamish thought he’d been too presumptuous. Then one corner of his mouth lifted. “Bring it to me on your next visit. I would suggest sooner, but I believe your sister might still be waiting for me outside.” He smiled warmly and readjusted his glasses. “Sadly, trade agreements lack the ability to negotiate themselves. At least, not in a way that shall make my father happy.”
Hamish nodded. As much as he hated the thought, there were other obligations they both needed to ensure were met outside of each other.
Pausing at the door, Darshan waved a hand at the books. “Try and see what you can glean from those in the meantime. I shall return when I am able.” With that, he slipped out of the library.
“Great,” Hamish muttered to himself. “I’ll just start here, then.” He opened one of the books his sister had brought in and flipped through the pages, skimming the shifting text for something less familiar. Another language sat alongside the Tirglasian words, strange glyphs that ran in a dizzy line of loops. Udynean.
Huffing and clicking his tongue, he twisted the book one way, then the other. It made no difference. But then, he had trouble with written words at the best of times. The letters rarely stayed in the exact same order as when he first read them. This though?
He flicked back through the pages, searching for a simple phrase. This was worse. Everything looked the same save for the odd vertical line here and there.
How did Darshan expect him to learn this jumble? What way did these words even go?
He stared at the word before him, his eyes straining as the letters shimmered and changed. There was pressure on the right and a failing of the ink towards the left in the same manner most inked words ended. Right to left, then. Precisely the opposite direction he was used to. That wouldn’t make things any easier. Might as well get on with it.
Sighing, Hamish settled back onto the stool and pulled the lantern closer. He could only try. It certainly couldn’t be any worse than any other time he had been forced to stick his nose into a book.
Darshan stalked along the corridor, his displeasure pounding out along the stone. How foolish he had been to think suggesting Hamish taking up the position of Tirglasian ambassador in the Crystal Court would be readily accepted by Queen Fiona.
I should’ve listened to him. Or, at the very least, given a few days thought on how to approach the matter. Sadly, the mere mention of it had gone about as badly as his lover had cautioned.
Queen Fiona stood at her desk, turning as he entered the study. She brandished a slip of paper as if it were a Stamekian starblade. “These figures you’ve negotiated with me daughter. I trust that, if I agreed to them, you would take your demonic influence out of my kingdom sooner?”
Darshan bowed his head. A bitter mixture of rage and sadness briefly clogged his throat. He would regret having
