Roots and Oxygen

Chapter 62 - Amende Honourable

Sage didn't follow Taro back inside. He slowly walked around the farm, kicking at snow with his boots, and sulking. I shouldn't have told him he'd need to change. That was rude of me, but I don't want him to change, I just don't want my parents to hate him. Sage shook his head and paused to stare at the white hills beyond the farm. His breath twisted softly into the air. They probably already hate him, and me. Why am I getting my hopes up?

Sage looked up at the vast barn beside the little farmhouse. He wandered around it, trudging through the thick snow. He could see guards from where he was, and when he couldn't see them, they shuffled around until he could.

At least they're not wanting to talk. Sage sank against the side and sat in the snow. He regretted it immediately as the cold snuck inside his coat and chilled his skin. Still, he sat stubbornly until he couldn't feel the tips of his fingers.

Sage soon started wandering, but the cold had gotten to his bones, and he couldn't stop chattering his teeth. Back inside, he looked in every room on the ground floor for Taro. Sage couldn't find him, and he didn't feel like talking to him yet, so he sat by the fire to warm up.

Nobody bothered him while he stared intensely into the angry flames. He watched the orange glow until he was warm and could sit comfortably without his icy skin burning. He soon got bored of sitting by himself. Taro had been around him so often in recent weeks that almost an hour apart felt odd.

He hasn't come down. He doesn't want to talk. Sage waited another little while. He looked over at the door every time he saw movement and was disappointed that it was never Taro. This is ridiculous. We're both adults. And he's the older one! Sage stormed through the room so fast, everyone else didn't have a chance to get up and bow.

Sage stormed all the way to the bedroom and yanked the door open. Taro, in his ivy form, rested peacefully on the bedside table with a few vines curled around his purple pot, and a few sticking out in all directions. Sage sighed and allowed all the tension to leave his body.

He sat on the bed and let his gaze drift. Taro didn't move, though Sage had a feeling he knew he was there. "I'm sorry," he finally said. "I don't want you to change, Taro. And I wish I didn't want you to act differently in front of the public. I'm not ashamed of you. I like that you're confident, I really do. I shouldn't care what anyone thinks, but it's just so hard not to after years of being a painful people pleaser." Sage anxiously fidgeted with his fingers. His skin felt dry, and he ran his nails over it until it stung. "I've spent years perfecting what perfect should look like. I guess I'm scared to let go of that. I know it's a good thing, but it just fills me with so much terror."

Taro didn't move. Sage really hoped that he had listened.

After a while of staring around the room and overthinking enough for his heart to thump, and his chest to feel tight, and his shoulders to tense, Sage wrapped arms around Taro's pot. He was careful not to squish any leaves and pressed his forehead to the cold pottery. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "Please don't be angry with me."

Taro still didn't move, so Sage clung to his disappointment and left the room. Taro's parents were now sitting by the fire with a pile of books from the bookcase. Katie's parents sat with them, deep in a conversation about the history of the farm.

Guards suddenly stood and bowed when they saw him. Those sitting by the fireplace tried to get up just as quickly. "Please, stay seated," Sage ordered. "Do you mind if I join you?"

"Not at all, Sir." Mrs Beecham crossed her legs to free up some space.

Sage sat quietly and listened to Katie's mother talking about who first owned the farm. She talked about a couple who had come into a small bit of wealth when the husband's father died, so they built a farm and grew wheat. "That was my great great, great-" Katie's mum paused and tapped her chin. "I forget how many greats, but my family have lived here for generations. I couldn't imagine ever living anywhere other than here."