Roots and Oxygen

Chapter 52 - Amiable Local

"If anyone asks," Taro muttered, "We're staying at the Golden Goats Inn half a mile from the village. We booked out a room, so it's not that suspicious. I know how small villages like to talk."

Sage nodded his head in approval. Taro was naturally good at his bodyguarding job. He stayed vigilant and thought of every scenario to keep them safe. I wonder if that's because I'm Royal and He's a plant person. Maybe it's in his blood to be protective.

The farther they ventured into the village, the higher Sage pulled his scarf and the lower he pulled his hat. Nobody would recognise him, and even Taro zipped his coat up to his mouth and wore a hat. Sage's heart thumped as they passed the first stranger- a woman maybe in her mid-forties carrying two paper cups of coffee. The steam from the cups and her breath trailed behind her. She didn't even give them a second's notice as she passed by, and Sage felt alive.

More and more people passed them, getting on with their lives, not knowing the future King walked by. I can't believe I'm doing this. Sage's body tingled with exhilaration. He had craved to wander without drawing attention to himself, he had craved it for years.

"I was always jealous of Oxley's freedom," he whispered to Taro. "I'm not jealous anymore." Because I know how it feels. Taro glanced at him with bright green eyes and dared to brush their fingers together.

They first stopped at a small pottery shop selling handmade plates, bowls, and cups. Sage liked how they were all slightly uneven and different sizes. He liked the way he could tell they were handmade and knew a lot of effort went into creating each one. He particularly liked a wonky bowl, gold around the rim, then purple around the top that melted into a light green, and then to a soft cream colour at the bottom. I'll come back here one day and buy myself something unique, he thought before moving onto the next shop of handmade candles.

The bell rung above the door when he entered. An overwhelming wall of scent crashed into them. The man behind the till smiled and said hello.

"Hello," Sage replied under his scarf. His heart thumped once again as the man turned away to serve a customer. They don't care who I am, and I couldn't be happier. Taro glued himself to Sage's side while they looked around. Sage sniffed just about every candle until he favoured a brown Sandalwood one with a golden shimmer. It smelt sweet, yet soft, rich, yet deep, as if the roots of a tree had basked in a pool of honey for half a century.

He checked the price and carried one in each hand. The man behind the till said, "A perfect choice! These are my favourites."

Sage smiled under his scarf. "Your shop smells amazing."

"It does indeed." He beamed. "How lucky am I to work with these scents every day?" His booming chuckle warmed Sage to the core.

"Do you make the candles?"

"I do. I've been making them for fifteen years. I'll never tire of doing something I love." He handed him the candles in a box tied with silver silk. "Have a nice day!"

"Thank you. Have a nice day too. I hope you get lots of customers!" Sage left with a buzz in his heart.

Taro followed him silently, but with a small smile, and a sparkle in his eyes. "Is it strange to be like one of us."

"One of you?"

"Just a regular person."

"Yes. People are being nice because they want to be, not because they have to be. I can never usually tell the difference."

Taro linked arms with him. Sage- for a moment- wanted to pull away and hiss at him to be careful. But nobody knew who they were, and nobody cared. The old woman passing with a cane and a bag of pasties didn't care, the man passing with hands in his pockets and cold red ears didn't care, the group of kids rushing past to get to the ice rink didn't care. Nobody gave them a second glance, nobody.

Sage relaxed and walked arm in arm with Taro Vinea down a snow-covered street. I'm living my dream. He wanted the day to last forever, especially when Taro bought him hot chocolate in a small café and sat by the window to talk and drink until the feeling returned in their cold feet.

Sage kept his hat and his sunglasses on. He only lowered his scarf when he wanted a sip of his drink. "Where to next?" he asked Taro, who side-eyed the guards sitting at the other end of the café.

"Wherever you want," he replied, leaning forward. "Are you having a nice time?"

"I'm having the best time." Sage lowered his scarf to smile. Taro unzipped the top of his coat to smile too. Then it started to snow. "Oh look!" They watched small snowflakes float down on the other side of the glass, until it got heavier and heavier and the snowflakes fell in thick bundles.

"We should look around the rest of the shops now before it's too late and we get snowed in," Taro joked. Though the snow didn't stop for another hour, and they were forced to go back to the cottage before they could find somewhere to have lunch.

Half a foot of fresh snow covered the driveway by the time they reached the cottage. Sage was glad to peel off his layers and sit in front of a fireplace. He ate lunch with a distant mind, thinking of all those people who passed him without a care in the world. "I wish days like that weren't so rare," he said aloud. Taro was in plant form on the other side of the table. His vines hung almost to the floor while some curled around the base of the purple pot. The leaves curled a little to show Sage that he was listening. "I wish my life was as simple as that man's life, the one who owned his candle shop. He was just so happy to stand there and sell the things he had spent time and effort to make. And what do I do? Stand and fake smile at a bunch of money-hungry photographers who will happily ruin a life to sell a photo, then later complain about my wealth. I didn't choose this life." Sage could feel the rant rising as Taro's leaves curled and uncurled in approval. "I would give all the money away to just walk the streets unrecognised."

He finished his lunch and gazed at the snow falling past the window. Snowflakes painted the room with glittering shadows, a fire crackled behind him, the smell of his chicken pie filled the room. "I just wish it wasn't all so complicated. I wish I could earn money doing something I loved." And at the end of the day, come home to Taro Vinea.