by Aldrea Alien
The years crowded his tongue, desperate to finally be heard. “If you had just listened to me, understood me, for even a heartbeat, you’d see that I ken what I want and that’s him.” He glanced over his shoulder, a small smile tweaking his lips as he realised Darshan stood right at his side. Adoration shone through those eyes that seemed to gleam every colour at once. “I love him.”
On the edge of his vision, he spied his father rocking back, surprise wrinkling his brow. He twitched his head towards his other children, seeking confirmation from them, who gave it with a minute upward jerk of a head or an empathetic nod.
“And now you’re threatening a war?” Hamish continued. “You’d rather bring death to our doorstep by slighting their offer for… What? Because he won? Because you cannae accept the truth? That, after everything you’ve put me through, I still willnae bend to your will?”
A soft gust of breath left his mother’s lips. Not a laugh, not even the wisp of a scoff. He had only ever heard that sound the once, thirteen years back, and he had paid twofold for his insolence then.
“Why? Why?” She stormed across the hall, her anger echoing in each pounding step. “Because this is wrong. If you had ever listened to me, to anyone!” She spread her arms wide. “Then you’d ken that.” Her face twisted with her ire and he was right back in her study, not quite two weeks ago. The first time she had ever struck him. “If you cannae see for yourself the harm you are causing, the danger you are bringing to this land by being with him. If you cannae be trusted to make the right choice, then I will make it for you.” She reached out to grab him.
Her hand smacked into something shimmering.
Only now did Hamish notice the shield surrounding them. It was more a faint feeling in the air, a hum, rather than the visible entity he had witnessed in the field. Barely visible where her palm had collided.
“I will not permit you to lay a finger on him,” Darshan hissed.
Hamish wasn’t entirely sure she had heard the man. She stared Hamish down as if he was some sword-swinging madman. “You persist down this road,” she snarled, “and you are dead to me.”
Nora gasped. “Mum, you—”
“I’ll nae have your influence poisoning me family any further.”
“You want me to leave?” he demanded of her, knowing full well that she wouldn’t answer. “Fine, I’m gone. I’ll even play along with your daft game of pretending I’m dead.” Hamish stepped closer, towering over her with the charge of the shield tingling along his skin. “But I want you to ken one thing before I do. I’m nae the poisonous one here. And despite what you want to think, I’m going to be living happily with a man who loves me.”
Darshan firmly clasped Hamish’s hand and squeezed.
With his heart thudding an extra beat, Hamish replied in kind. Feeling those slim fingers pressed against his skin gave him strength. He wasn’t alone. Not anymore. “I’m marrying him. And when he inherits the imperial throne—and he will, Mum, you ken he’s their bleeding heir—that’ll make me the prince consort to the most powerful man in the world. And you? You’ll still be bitterly living in decades gone.”
His mother sneered. “I dinnae ken who or what you are, but you are nae me son.”
“I think we both ken that I stopped being your son the day you decided I wasnae what you wanted in one.” Rather than wait for a response, he turned on his heel and strode to the door.
Darshan followed at his side, their hands still clinging to each other.
Hamish’s legs almost caved on him the moment he stepped through the doorway. He staggered a few steps before slumping against the wall. By the Goddess, what was he doing? What had come over him to speak to his own mother that way? It would’ve been better if I had just left. If only she would’ve listened.
His lover laid a hand on his shoulder, gently squeezing. “I—” He grew silent at the sound of approaching footsteps coming from the other side of the dining hall door.
Hamish straightened as the door creaked open to admit his siblings. Of their parents, there was no sign. Not even a whisper of his mother’s acerbic voice. It’s over, then. All those years… all boiling down to this. His exile.
Darshan bowed his head. “Forgive me, this was not how I imagined it ending.”
“How else could it have possibly gone?” Gordon asked. “Did you think me mum would just accept it?”
Darshan’s cheeks puffed out as he sighed. He scratched at the back of his head. “I had hoped she would find some measure of peace in her son’s happiness.”
A soft, weary chuckle escaped Nora’s lips. “You would’ve needed the Goddess’ intervention to pull off a miracle like that.”
“Evidently.”
“Come on,” Gordon wrapped an arm around Darshan’s shoulders, guiding him up the corridors. “You’ll have to gather what you can carry via horseback. Both of you.”
“I’ll go see your mounts are still saddled and ready,” Nora offered, hitching up her skirts and running off down the corridor before anyone could say a word.
“Horses?” Darshan mumbled. “But it will take months to leave Tirglas that way.”
“Aye,” Gordon said with a nod. “Unfortunately, your victory doesnae change the fact that the ship heading for Udynea is still nae in. If you were able to stay…” He trailed off with a shrug.
“But we cannot. I understand.” Frowning, Darshan gave a curt nod. “Horses it is, then.” He looked over his shoulder at Hamish. “Do not take too long gathering what you can, mea lux.”
Hamish nodded, his pace faltering once his lover and brother were out of sight. Packing wouldn’t take long; there were few possessions that he’d grown at all attached to and the rest…
Well, he didn’t own the rest anymore. He had been disowned. No title. No clan. He was free to live as he saw fit.
If the Goddess willed it, that life would be with a man who didn’t care he brought nothing but himself to a marriage.
Hamish halted in the doorway to his room, taking in the gloomy space that had been his alone for three decades. I’m never coming back. Not once had he ever given the idea any merit. Never, in all his years, had he considered there would be a time where he’d be stripped of the right to return here.
Now it was a reality.
He rifled through his things, moving from shelf to drawer before kneeling at his chest of effects. His siblings would see to the rest of their gear, so he needed only to concern himself with personal items.
The chest carried nowhere near its capacity, but still too much to bring with him. Travelling by horse meant the amount of extra weight he could carry alongside the necessary gear was minimal. A pack horse could’ve allowed them to cart more, but they’d be lucky to get away with two mounts as it was.
He rummaged through the chest. What to take? Spare clothes, certainly. Items of value? He’d little there. Only a handful of things that bore sentimental weight. Absolutely nothing he owned had any monetary value beyond the silver ring Darshan had gifted to him.
Did he even have any money?
Something clinked at the bottom of the chest. He dug deeper into the rubble, his questing hands unearthing a small pouch containing a silver coin and a few copper bits. Enough for a night’s stay and a meal at a moderately decent inn. He pocketed the coins and continued his search.
His gaze alighted on the box holding the phallic gift from Darshan.
Hamish had used it just the once. That’d been after dancing with his lover and turning Darshan into a panting mess of a man whilst they lingered in the mezzanine shadows.
Using the toy on himself had been quite the experience. Not as good as having the actual object of his desire inside him, but sufficient in a pinch. And not as risky as an attempt in smuggling Darshan into his room.
Udynea would hold its own set of risks, but who he slept with wouldn’t be that big of an issue. At least, he hoped. He’d only Darshan’s word to go on that everything would be fine once they reached Minamist.
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nbsp; Hamish sat the end of the box on the edge of the chest, resting his hands on the upright end and his chin on his hands. What am I doing? His mouth had run away with him whilst facing his mother, the weight behind his words only now starting to sink in.
I can go anywhere. Do anything. Marry anyone he chose.
There were limits, naturally. Having practically no money wouldn’t get him very far, but he could subsist on the land long enough to get somewhere. And that was a start. He could settle wherever he liked. Not in Tirglas, perhaps, but there were other lands.
And yet…
Doing any of it all seemed rather pointless without Darshan at his side. But he couldn’t expect the man to marry him. His lover would be a fool to not consider the ramifications of uniting himself to an outcast.
Darshan didn’t even need a marriage for them to be together. They could live no differently as lovers.
Shaking himself, Hamish stowed the box into the base of his pack, alongside a few trinkets from his niece and nephews. A few more essentials joined them, such as string for his bow as well as his entire fletching kit; should he need to replace any damaged arrows. Normally, the kit would be without a knife, but still he had that on his belt.
Cramming his clothes on top, he turned to filling the chest with the rest of his things. He would leave the key on his person—same as always—but even if his siblings managed to transport what Hamish couldn’t take with him now, it wasn’t much of a guarantee. No one could’ve known his mother would boot them from the kingdom this swiftly. He doubted anyone could predict what action she would take after mourning her supposed loss.
Hoisting his pack onto his shoulder, he gave the room one final glance. Without the personal touch of his things gracing the nooks and crannies, his quarters seemed little more than a shell.
Not that it had been much better with the items there. Keeping things sparse had been a way to tell if something went missing as a boy. It had merely become habit.
Hamish strode out the door, nodding his final farewells to the two guards lingering on the other side. Gordon had ordered the duo there after the disqualified competitor tried her hand at molesting Hamish, but he hadn’t expected anyone to still be here after the incident in the field. Certainly not the familiar faces that had greeted him, given that Sean and Zurron had never guarded the entrance to his quarters before. They’d usually be marching the walls.
Had that only been last night? Aye. He ached through to the bone and the day wasn’t even over.
He burrowed his fingers into his hair, tugging at the coils, desperately hoping it would pull him from this nightmare. But no.
The corridors between his room and the guest quarters were devoid of all but the occasional servant. Each one scurried away once he was spotted as if he was a ghost. One man even squeaked and looked close to fainting as he staggered into a small supply room. Hamish had considered checking on the man—he hadn’t heard the servant collapse—but decided against it.
Could it be that his mother had spread word of his apparent death? So swiftly? And with enough conviction that it was considered as irrefutable truth? Or had they been given strict orders to avoid him? With, perhaps, violent repercussions should they disobey.
Both seemed equally feasible given his mother’s mental state. He had asked Sean and Zurron if either had heard of anything, but they’d been pretty much confined to that one corridor. They didn’t even know Hamish had been exiled until he told them.
Hamish turned the final corner to discover the door to the guest quarters sat wide open. He halted, his ears straining to detect trouble.
The sounds within suggested only Darshan occupied the room. Perhaps his lover was having a problem in choosing what to leave behind. The man’s travel chest had been packed to near bursting.
“If we’re going to make good time before the sun sets,” Hamish said, stepping through the doorway. “It’ll be best if we—” The words died on his tongue as he took in the chaos that’d taken over the room. It looked for all the world like the chest had finally exploded.
A large pile of what had been Darshan’s carefully-folded clothing now sat in a crumpled heap of silk in the middle of the room. The mound continued to grow as his lover threw more items onto it. He had changed out of the old competitor clothing and back into one of his more fanciful attires.
“You’re nae planning on taking all of this, are you?” There was no way they could carry what had to be five distinct sets of clothing with them. And that didn’t include the jumble of other items he was busily piling on top.
Darshan paused only to glance at Hamish before carrying on. Shaking his head, he rifled through a bundle of parchment. A handful were shoved into his pack, the rest thrown on top of the pile of clothes. Pages fluttered in all directions.
Hamish picked up one that had skittered near his feet. Trade information adorned both sides of the parchment. Useless now. Tirglas would never accept any offer from Udynea whilst his mother still sat on the throne.
He released the sheet, letting it drift back onto the pile. Maybe they could try for an alliance once his brother ruled.
They were just fortunate to not have started the war his mother threatened.
“Stand back,” Darshan warned, waving his hand over the stack of parchment and silk. Smoke curled from beneath the layers of fabric. A shield flickered to life around the pile, but the smoke seeped straight through the barrier.
“What are you doing?” Hamish demanded.
Flames continued to flick out from between the folds of clothing. They caught and swiftly burnt everything to ash.
“Getting rid of surplus baggage.” With little remaining of his clothes, Darshan poked through the debris with a booted foot. “I refuse to leave behind anything of value.”
“Dinnae you think burning everything is a wee bit on the dramatic side?” Hamish understood the desire to be rid of anything that might lead to the temptation of returning here—and the chance of Darshan’s travel chest being smashed was far greater than Hamish’s personal chest. However, setting what he couldn’t bring with him on fire seemed like an extreme way to deal with it.
“Not really.” His lover bent to pick up something small from the ashes, juggling it for a brief moment before pocketing the item.
“But your clothes—”
“I have what I currently wear and my warmer travelling attire is already packed. I can buy more if needed. Of course, such a task shall be easier once we reach Udynean lands, but I can make do with a few less in the meantime.” He plucked several small stones from the ashes. “But I fear funds would be exceptionally tight without something to line our purses until we reach Udynea.” He rubbed a thumb over one of the stones, revealing a ruby hue. “I am hoping your merchant guild will take these gems in exchange for spendable coin.”
Hamish shuffled from one foot to the other. Acquiring more money beyond the small amount in his belt pouch wasn’t something he’d been thinking of. Or even had the means to do without a lot of labour. “Thank you,” he whispered.
“Thank—?” Darshan glanced up from collecting the gems and frowned. “For what? For getting you banished from your homeland? For tearing everything apart and almost starting a civil war? For quite possibly ruining any chance of peace between our people?” He fisted his hair and continued to babble in Udynean, “Gods, what am I even going to tell my father? Or the senate? I shall be fortunate if he doesn’t ship me off to Obuzan after this.”
“I doubt he’d do that to his heir.”
His lover scoffed. “There is my nephew. Or do you think my father would not have the boy nearby in the off chance that something untoward happened to me here?”
If Darshan had asked that question when he had first arrived, Hamish would’ve been adamant that nothing bad could’ve possibly happened to the man. But now that his mother had threatened so much? Attempted assassination seemed just as likely an option as everything else. “What I meant is thank you for standing by me.” What
ever path his mother chose, Hamish doubted he would’ve had the courage to defy her without Darshan to support him.
His lover’s eyes creased in a smile, but sadness lurked in that gaze. “Always, mea lux.”
“I didnae think I would’ve had the strength to leave on me own. But I can now. You helped set me free.” A weight seemed to lift from his soul as the words passed his lips, leaving him giddy. “I can go anywhere I want, do anything I wish.”
“Not anything, surely.” Dusting the soot from his hands, Darshan secured the pouch of gems to his belt. “By your laws, I won the right to your hand. I do believe that, technically, you are mine to take in marriage.”
Hamish stilled, a strangely sick hollowness settling in his gut. He had planned to speak on the subject once they were away from the castle, but if Darshan was willing to bring up the topic now… “I ken what I said down there.” What they had both said whilst tempers had flared. “But you dinnae actually have to marry me. I willnae hold you to that. It’s nae like I’m much of a prize anymore.”
“What if I want to despite all that?” Darshan clasped Hamish’s forearm, his fingers almost hot enough to sear flesh. “You are still my light. Would you refuse me?”
Hamish shook his head. Refusing an offer of marriage would mean leaving Darshan’s side, and he wasn’t about to walk away from the man he loved. “But, seeing I’m considered dead and all, just what does marrying me bring to the table?” The bitterness of reality coated his words. Whilst the contest continued, he could pretend that marrying Darshan was a viable possibility. Normal. Not anymore. They both needed to face the truth there. “I’m nae saying we part ways, because I love you. But I have nae title. Nae clan. Nae ties of any kind.” If his mother hadn’t declared him as dead, then he could’ve brought the political link to his family to Udynea. “I have nae a thing I can claim as me own.”
“That simply is not true.” Darshan’s hand slid down Hamish’s arm to link their fingers. “And you do have something. You have me.”
I do. Even having nothing beyond his name—and he wasn’t even sure if he could still lay claim to half of it—Darshan would still be there. And his. “You dinnae gain anything by marrying me that you dinnae already have. There’s nae even a dowry. It’s just me.” He could hope all he wanted that none of it mattered, but it did. It always would.
