“Not in family matters, certainly.” He peered at Hamish out the corner of his eye. “But I have been thinking… you and I would make quite the pair.”
“In what sense?” Hamish mumbled around his final piece of bread.
Darshan shot him a meaningful look, one brow arching as if he couldn’t quite decide if Hamish was that dense.
“Oh,” Hamish murmured. “Oh!” His face fast grew uncomfortably warm. Darshan couldn’t actually be meaning that they should make their dalliances a little more permanent. Or could he? Hamish cleared his throat, gagging on a few remaining crumbs. “You’ll have to excuse me, I was nae expecting a proposal.”
Shock widened those hazel eyes and naked terror slackened his lover’s jaw. “I—”
“You were nae meaning it in that sense, I ken that.” Still, even saying it aloud did little to hush the bitter whisper of disappointment that flooded his thoughts in the absence of relief. Only now he was faced with a negative answer did he realise he had been hoping for a different one. How long had that desire been lingering beneath the surface?
Darshan laid a bejewelled hand on Hamish’s knee. “Do not misunderstand, mea lux. If I thought my father would approve of me bringing home a husband…” The words trailed off, a shy smile taking their place.
A warm flutter started up in Hamish’s stomach, spreading until it suffused his whole body. He turned his gaze to their surroundings. It was the only way he could think of anything beyond kissing the man breathless. “Mea lux,” he mused aloud. “You’ve called me that before.” Several times whilst they were in the library. That’d been on the morning after their night together in the guest quarters. He had dismissed it since. “But you’ve nae given me a translation.”
“Have I not?” Darshan cleared his throat when Hamish shook his head, his cheeks quickly turning a deep red. “It is a term of endearment.”
“I gathered that by the tone.” Did he mean it as genuinely as it sounded? All light and sweet? “What does it mean?”
If Hamish didn’t think the man’s cheeks could darken further, then they seemed happy to prove him wrong. “My light,” Darshan whispered.
He ran the words through his head. “But you just told me the Udynean word for light is haalen.” Did that only refer to sunlight? He hadn’t said as much, but it was possible. Or was he lying about their meaning? That seemed just as likely.
“It does mean that,” Darshan rambled, twisting around until he sat cross-legged before Hamish. “In Udynean. There are other words for it, of course, but haalen has a more widespread usage. However, mea lux is from the Ancient Domian tongue.”
Wonderful. Yet another language Hamish had no experience with that the man seemed fluent in. He was really starting to feel like a barbarian. “How many languages can you speak?” And was Darshan going to attempt to teach him every single one?
“A number of them. Ancient Domian is…” His lover waved one hand in the air, rolling it at the wrist. “How do I put this? It is my mother tongue, the first one I spoke. You see, the Udynea Empire rather overran the Domian lands some hundreds of years ago.”
“Your ancestors conquered, you mean. I ken about that.” Udyneans were well-known for taking over lands, removing the nobility and planting one of their own at the top to continue running whole cities without disturbing the lives of common folk. He’d even heard tales of them adopting certain customs from the very lands they had conquered.
Wincing, Darshan bowed his head. “Yes, well the empire no longer seeks to expand her borders. But for some time now, being able to speak Ancient Domian fluently has become somewhat of a social status symbol amongst nobility and is taught first to all children of high birth. Naturally, we learn Udynean soon after, most times together.”
“That’s it? On top of Tirglasian, obviously.” Three languages, two from childhood, didn’t sound nearly as intimidating.
Darshan gave a sheepish smile. “Not entirely. I also speak Niholian and pick up a smattering more of Dvärg each time their hedgewitches visit the palace. I can also wish good health to the herd of a Stamekian nomad, although their language is a little more complicated to learn.”
An incredulous huff escaped Hamish’s lips. The man spoke all those languages, even only in part, and still considered Stamekian as complicated? “I hope you’re nae planning on teaching me all of them, because I dinnae think there’ll be time for additional lessons before you leave.”
His lover fell silent, frowning at the ground. He plucked a budding daisy from the scrags of grass and rolled the stem between his thumb and forefinger. One by one, the petals fanned out and seemingly leapt off the flower to drop back amongst the dirt.
Hamish watched wordlessly. Speaking of Darshan leaving wasn’t why he had come here, but there wasn’t anything he could say to change the fact his mother was a stubborn woman and most certainly would refuse to let him go. If he had sired children, given her another royal line to cling to, then maybe. But if he had ever felt the desire to lay with a woman, then he wouldn’t be here with Darshan now.
“Truthfully,” his lover whispered. “I am still holding out that leaving will not be a solo affair.” He glanced up at Hamish, peering over the rim of his glasses. “Despite her dislike of me, your mother seems genuinely eager for an alliance and the Crystal Court is lacking in an expert of Tirglasian culture. It is not as if you would be expected to share my quarters. There are entire wings set aside for our ambassadors.”
Hamish nodded absently, his focus still mostly on the flower steadily losing its petals. His mother probably knew that. It didn’t matter. He was a prince, he belonged in the castle.
Darshan shuffled closer until their knees casually touched. “Of course, with us so far from Tirglas and your mother’s guards,
