by Aldrea Alien
“Nora told me after the last trial.” Where she had dug up the information, he didn’t know. “One thing didnae add up for us, though. Why would your father send his heir to the other side of the continent to negotiate trade?”
Darshan nonchalantly lifted a shoulder. “I told you that already. This was meant to be my punishment.”
Hamish had vague memories of that conversation. There’d been so many things that had swamped the Mhanek’s motive behind sending his son so far away. To a land where men didnae lay with men. He recalled the reason for that rightly enough. “For sleeping with a betrothed man.” That had sounded barely plausible when Darshan had been just another of royal blood. Being the heir made the punishment seem even less likely.
“That part was the least of my father’s issue with my actions.” His lover’s expression was akin to the looks Hamish would expect from one of his nephews after being caught doing something they shouldn’t. “The feud I inadvertently caused rather upset generations of careful marriage arrangements. I think I may have cost an entire household to lose their estate. And possibly their lives.”
“Marriages in Udynea are arranged?” It wasn’t unheard of in some of the more rural communities, and he supposed the union contest could be viewed in such a manner, but marriages in Tirglas were typically done without formal arrangements.
“Not all of them. But everything in the nobility hinges on power. Specifically the strength you can call upon. Families with strong magical bloodlines unite to make them even stronger. That sort of union does not generally happen without a bit of nudging in the right direction. Most arrangements are made after the first display of a child’s magic.”
“Did you have a betrothed?” Would he be expected to confront them for Darshan’s hand?
Darshan shook his head. “No one in my family was promised. My father is a rare example of marrying for love and he still carries a soft spot for it. He has helped settle spouses for a few of my sisters who sought marriage, but…” He briefly toyed with his rings before his hands slowly parted. “Once he wanted me to take a wife. Now, all he wants is for me to produce the next link in the chain.”
An heir. Something Darshan just wouldn’t get by being with him. Hamish rubbed the heel of his hand across his cheek. He’d been so close to believing this could work. “And there’s nae one else to take the throne if you didnae have a bairn?”
“I am my father’s eldest child and only son. The next in line, if I die today, is my nephew. Sadly, from my eldest half-sister.” Disgust soured the normally sure line of his mouth. “Who would undoubtedly take great satisfaction in hustling her son to such a prestigious height.”
Princess Onella. It had to be for Darshan to speak so disparagingly of the woman. The same person his lover credited the scar in his torso to. If she was willing to injure her own brother, then only the Goddess knew what sort of ruthless manner she had cultivated in her son. Certainly not the sort of person to leave an empire in the hands of. “You have to forfeit the union contest.”
“I do not! And I shall not.” Darshan shuffled around on the bed to kneel before him. “What has gotten into you?”
“You’re the bloody heir to the Udynean throne,” Hamish mumbled, hoping that would be enough. He should’ve known better than to think the Goddess would ever want someone like him happy.
“I believe we have already established that.” He hugged himself, running one hand over the other arm as if struck by a sudden chill. “I thought I was your chosen spouse?” A queasiness took his face and, for a second, Hamish thought the man might just vomit. “Are you saying you do not want me because of what happened? Because the fault there does not lie with you.”
“It’s nae that at all, me heart.” By the Goddess, his very soul ached at the thought of Darshan leaving his side. “But we— You cannae do this. You’re the heir to an empire. You need an heir of your own.” Such a requirement was even greater than for himself as a prince who was currently seventh in line. “Let’s be realistic here, I cannae give you a child. You need a wife for that.”
“This again?” Darshan huffed. Pushing the wire frames further up his nose, he peered down at Hamish as if his entire ancestry had been offended. “Well, I do not want a wife. I want you.”
Hamish searched his lover’s face for some sign that the man jested. Nothing. Of course there was nothing. Darshan had proven a multitude of times how much he desired Hamish.
Darshan chuckled. “Gods, if you could see the look on your face.” He shook his head, a delightfully smug smile playing on his lips. “Allow me to make this entirely clear for you: I would not have put myself through this great malarkey if I did not find you so… compatible. And before you start rolling those stunning blue eyes of yours, I mean more than when we are fooling around.” He shuffled about on the bed, planted himself before Hamish. “I love you far too much to leave you in this miserable place. I am going to win this, then I shall drag you back to my country like the savage I apparently am and marry the living daylights out of you. And there is nothing you can do to stop me.” He bent over Hamish, pushing his face close. “What do you have to say about that?”
“Marry the living daylights out of me?” Hamish echoed. “I think some of that might’ve gotten lost in translation there.”
“No, I do not believe so.” He sat back with a sigh. “Look, I spent a little time in the library the other night. After we danced,” he clarified.
“Even after I had…?”
Darshan grinned. “Well, I had to find some way to calm down afterwards. You did leave me so terribly flustered that, really, my only other option beyond my failed attempts at archery would have been to hunt you down and repay you in kind.”
Although his lover continued to speak, Hamish was only vaguely aware the man’s mouth continued to move. All rational thought had been engulfed by the mental vision of Darshan on his knees and orally servicing him in a similar manner. That tongue. Those lips. Would he feel the moustache? What—?
“Are you listening or am I merely airing my teeth?”
Hamish mentally shook himself, barely having the forethought to give a little nod. It was probably for the best that his lover hadn’t taken that line of thinking. “I heard you.”
The look Darshan shot was one of utter disbelief. Nevertheless, he continued, “My search led me to a small passage on Tirglasian customs. Wedding one’s specifically.” He sat back on his heels. “I understand that your Goddess is mostly concerned with bringing forth new life and her priests demand an understanding in the matter of children before vows are taken.” He absently toyed with a ring before the fingers dropped to pat Hamish’s leg. “You really do not need to concern yourself with it. I shall have it all in hand once the time to think of that comes.”
“Except you havenae told me. It’s very well saying you have ideas and that you need time to think them over, but you dinnae say what any of it entails.”
Darshan bit his lip. “You are right, I have left that rather vague. In all honesty, I would need to return home first. There are people I would have to speak with before I could confirm anything and I do not wish to promise you what I cannot deliver. Suffice to say, there are ways that even your people would be capable of utilising.”
“Speak to people? What about this person?” Hamish tapped his chest. He didn’t need a promise that there would be children, if they ever came to that point, but they both needed to be sailing the same boat and that meant discussing it. “Having an heir is one of your duties as the crown prince.”
Those hazel eyes widened. The faint remains of kohl around their edges making them stark. “Please, no,” his lover whispered. “Do not do that. Do not sit there sounding like my father.”
“Maybe he’s right.”
Darshan wrinkled his nose. His lips twisted as if he had swallowed something unpleasant.
Hamish probably would’ve given a similar look had someone told him that his mother really did know all the Goddess’ secrets.
Taking pity on his lover, he nudged the conversation in a slightly different direction. “I ken you dinnae like to talk about it, but have you ever given it any thought before?”
Giving a considering hum, Darshan’s head rocked from side to side. “Once, I suppose. Back when I was young and idealistic. My father was a little more forgiving and less insistent then. I had met this man who was, in my father’s eyes, perfectly capable of carrying a child to term.”
Hamish scrunched up his nose. “What?”
A flicker of confusion creased Darshan’s face. “You do not have—?” He sighed. “No, I suppose that sort of knowledge would be scarce,” he muttered, seemingly to himself before continuing in a slightly louder voice. “Vihaan is paalangik. I…” He frowned. “I know no other word for it. He had the physical requirements to conceive and carry a child had he the inclination.”
Not wishing to steer his lover off course now that he appeared willing to speak, Hamish silently waved the man on.
“Which was part of my point. He was a nice enough man, and we might have had something akin to romantic feelings for each other had we been left to ourselves. We were friends for some time before we attempted something deeper and…” Shaking his head, Darshan chuckled. “Honestly, we had barely gotten any further than a few chaste kisses here and there before my father—” Mentioning the man swiftly sobered him. “I knew Vihaan had no desire for children, that the idea of carrying one terrified him, but my father saw things differently. He never took Vihaan’s feelings into account and, ultimately, it was too much. Vihaan fled the court and, I believe, he oversees one of his family’s orchards near the Obuzan border.” His gaze dropped. “I have not spoken with him since. I lost a friend because of my father’s preference to focus only on the possibility of future grandchildren rather than our happiness.”
“So what’s going to happen down the road? If we marry—or even if we dinnae marry and continue as we are—” It seemed the option less likely to upset anyone in Minamist. He didn’t mind remaining as Darshan’s lover if he couldn’t be the man’s husband. “—and your father dies? You clearly dinnae want your nephew to inherit the throne, but do you really expect me to just stand aside whilst you—?”
Goddess, he couldn’t even say it. The very thought made him sick.
“No,” Darshan whispered. “There are other ways to become a parent.”
“Adoption, you mean?” It wasn’t generally a thing people talked about, but there were families who suddenly had one less babe to feed whilst another miraculously gained a member without the mother showing any signs of pregnancy.
“That is one, although I am certain that not only my father would baulk at the idea of me not having a least one child of my blood. What I meant is there are a number of choices and none of them require me to lie with anyone but you. One you would not be familiar with as it is… new.”
“Didnae hedge. I ken it involves magic. Just tell me.”
His lover stared at him, startled. “How—?”
Hamish laughed; a deep rumble that made his stomach ache. “The method of making bairns is as old as the land. The only way it could be new is if it’s nae natural. That would mean magic.”
Darshan slowly nodded. “A… little, yes.” His lover’s admission carried a heavy dose of caution, the tone not quite void of reluctance.
Magic. Something that would no doubt involve the two of them, otherwise Darshan could’ve done it far earlier. Taking a deep breath, Hamish blurted the first thought that came to mind, “Are you thinking I’ll object?”
“Well, if you do not mind me saying so, you look rather aghast at the prospect.”
“The way you’ve been acting, all the secrecy and deflection, I half expected to find you’re planning on impregnating me.” A horrid thought overtook all else as he spoke. “You havenae already done that, have you?” He had been feeling a bit weird the last couple of days. Slightly bloated.
Darshan stared back at him, those hazel eyes bulging. A snort of hastily-muffled laughter erupted from his lover. He bent over, grasping fistfuls of blanket. “Have I already done what?” he managed between fits of coughing and gasping.
“You dinnae have to laugh. I dinnae ken what a spellster’s capable of.”
Darshan grinned. “Not that.” He crawled across the bed. “I do not think you—” He shook his head and threaded his fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp before fisting a great handful of dark curls. “Using magic on a living being is rather limited to what the body can already do naturally.”
“Like a man taking on, and defeating, an opponent that should’ve been too strong for him?”
His lover scoffed. “That was a simple adjustment pertaining to my healer studies. It heals tears in the muscle at the same rate as they are torn. I cannot maintain it for long before it starts to take its toll.” Darshan ran a finger up Hamish’s chest, creating little spirals along the way. “But fortunately I did not have to.”
Hamish mumbled what he hoped sounded like an agreement, his thoughts more focused on his lover’s actions rather than the man’s words. “Are other spellsters capable of making someone carry a child, then?”
“Only if you have the specific equipment that I am quite certain you are lacking. Besides…” His lover curled against Hamish’s chest as if he wasn’t lying near-naked on the man’s bed. “If it was possible for one man to impregnate another, I would much rather take on that risk than leave it to you.”
Hamish absently wrapped his arms around Darshan’s shoulders. With his mind trying to figure out just how the conversation had landed here, he managed little more than a light, “Oh?”
“My healing capabilities would be enough to ward off most dangers and, perhaps, even keep me from dying. But that is not an issue.” He took a deep breath, his chest pressing against Hamish’s. “What I plan on doing is making use of a new procedure from Niholia. Quite expensive, although that is hardly a problem. The question is whether my sister would be willing to carry the child.”
“Your sister?”
“My twin, specifically. I am assuming she has the relevant requirements. It is not something one generally asks people, not even siblings. If not, then I shall have to search elsewhere for someone suitable.”
Hamish frowned at the ceiling. He had attempted to follow along with the explanation, but his trail of thought must’ve snagged somewhere along the way. “You want to impregnate your sister?”
His lover sat bolt upright, almost clocking Hamish with his head. His face was a mask of utter disgust. “I— Th-that’s the… v-vilest…” he babbled in Udynean. He shook himself, brushing his torso as if bugs crawled over him. “No. Most certainly not. I intend to have Anjali carry our child, if she is amenable. The procedure is not without risks, but I trust her with my life.”
“I’m nae sleeping with your sister.”
“No, I—” Darshan grumbled and muttered to himself under his breath. “This is why I wanted to wait until we were back at Minamist. There are people who could explain this a lot better than I. Suffice to say, the process uses magic. You are correct there. It allows two people—of whichever combination of genders those people happen to be—to merge their bloodlines.” He scooped up Hamish’s hand, linking their fingers. “There are but a few who know all the finicky details on how it actually works, but I figured it was worth a try.”
He ran his thumb across Darshan’s. “You want to risk the future of having a bairn—your heir—to an experimental procedure? How many have been successful?”
Darshan shrugged. “All I know is that it started in Niholia with Tsarina Galina. She has a wife and is rather devoted to the woman. It took some years, but her people found a way for them to have a child that shared their blood. After the method was discovered, others followed. All women at first, but they eventually found a way for it to work with men.”
Making bairns with magic. Hamish gnawed on the inside of his lip. The priests attributed such creations to the Goddess’ w
ill. To depose her decree…
He frowned. Were they? Niholians had their own deities. Perhaps one of them had led the way to this discovery? If the gods didn’t want spellsters meddling, then surely they’d the power to stop them.
His lover eyed him, the faint flicker of uncertainty tightening his eyes and thinning his mouth. “Understand that I have no actual idea how viable it is. I hear the method for fusing the essence of two women is relatively stable, but two men?” He shook his head. “I am uncertain of the risks. I have kept all this to myself because I am attempting to dedicate my attention to the trials. I do not wish to lose you.”
“And when your position demands an heir from you?” Hamish mumbled, still drawing the threads of their conversation together. “We do it via… magic? No sex with a woman required?”
“None at all.” Darshan patted his hand. “But let us worry about one thing at a time. After can come… Well…” He offered a soft smile and a shrug.
“…after,” Hamish finished, his gaze drifting to the window. The once dull glow of dawn had grown larger whilst they had talked. “I should leave,” he mumbled, slithering his feet over the edge of the bed. “Get dressed. Let you catch a few winks.”
“Actually, it is about time for me to depart for my tent.” Darshan followed Hamish in standing. His lover paused in shrugging into his sherwani to rise up on his toes and plant a kiss on Hamish’s cheek. “No matter how the trial goes, I swear I shall not leave you in a loveless marriage. Even if I have to steal you away.”
Hamish chuckled. “Let’s hope it doesnae come to that.” The last thing they needed was an angry clan on their tail.
“Your secret will be out today, mea lux,” Darshan whispered. “Are you ready for the world to know?”
His throat tightened. Only a scant handful outside his family was aware he liked men. Putting himself in a position for everyone to learn the truth was certainly a step up. A boulder-sized step. “Aye. As long as it means I’ll still have you at the end of the day, I’m ready.”
