Roots and Oxygen

Chapter 3 - Ghosts and Wives

"Not tomorrow, but at least get a few potential options for yourself." His father pointed a strawberry at him as he spoke. "Lady Liniana has shown a lot of interest in you. I don't know why you-"

"I'll think about it. But I'm busy with the garden."

Everyone in the room eyerolled him, never understanding why he paid so much attention to plants and not people. Plants never spoke or judged or expected great things from him.

Sage was first to leave the table. He found Mrs Beecham hovering by the exit to the gardens. "How's the plant?" she asked, not even bowing her head or greeting him politely. "Have you been watering it?"

"Yes, yes," Sage sighed, eyeing a leaf stuck in her ginger curls.

"And given it-"

"Yes, plant food. Do you really think I would have forgotten already? You gave it to me yesterday."

"Unwillingly, might I add. But you're dealing with a loss. Maybe I should take it off your mind for a while."

"I'm not that incompetent." Sage stormed to the shed and Mrs Beecham followed, sensing something was wrong.

She gave him some pots to fill with soil and he filled them so aggressively, she had to stop him before the rest of the soil spilt all over the floor. "Are you alright?"

Sage stared bleakly into the pot. He was always careful not to share too much information with anyone. Like his brother said, trusting those was hard with a status as heavy as his. "My father wants me to be social soon."

"Ah, but Prince Sage is not a social creature."

"Not exactly."

"And those who you are supposed to be hosting are all female, yes?"

"Yes." Sage had known Mrs Beecham for as long as he could remember. He didn't share everything with her, but she knew that entertaining females was a heavy reminder of what his future held. "I called it off for now, but I can't keep holding it off."

"And your dad wasn't pleased?"

"Not really."

"Well, all in good time. You can't entertain guests when you're not in the mood. First impressions are very important."

"Are they, when you're trying so hard to be the person who they expect you to be?"

"Don't get all cynical on me now." She smiled. "How about you go and get the plant from your room, so I can take a look."

Sage was angry that he couldn't find the courage to come out to his parents. He might have done it already if his mother wasn't the Queen and his father wasn't so set on finding him a wife.

He stomped to his bedroom, not making eye contact with any of the staff or guards lounging in the hallways. Most bowed their heads, but some of the female workers tried to smirk at him and attract his gaze by purposefully getting in his way. Sage was tall, broad, young, and some even said that he was the most attractive prince to ever walk the halls of Pothos Palace.

Sage rolled up the sleeves of his black shirt and continued up the stairs as if he hadn't noticed someone gawking at him wearing his waistcoat. He had to always look good outside of his bedroom in case a picture of him was leaked to the tabloids. He still worried that his ex-valet was going to sell some ludicrous story to the papers.

Sage stopped checking the news, and his parents stopped reading the papers in front of him. The articles and lies were sometimes too much if he had woken up on the wrong side of the bed.

Sage entered his room with slumped shoulders and a dark expression. He shut the door behind him and stood in the silence for just a moment, wanting to clear his head. He planned to stride through his room, maybe scream into his silk pillow and leave as though everything was fine, until he heard a noise. Sage peeled himself from the patterned door and tiptoed past his desk hidden away in a small alcove.

He heard the noise again, like someone was rummaging through papers. "Hello?" Sage called out. Nobody should be in his room at this time of day. His bed was made in the morning and his room was cleaned during breakfast. Without a valet, nobody should be in his quarters. "Oxley?"

The rummaging had stopped, so Sage stormed through his room with large strides, just in time to see the plant on his bedside table wobble. He lunged forwards before it smashed on the wooden floors, catching it and spilling some soil on his waistcoat.

Sage put it back and knelt on the floor, holding the plant pot and glancing around. Nobody was in his room. Without a word, he scooped up the plant and bolted down the corridors, out of breath by the time he reached the shed.

Mrs Beecham looked up, alarmed when he barged in so quickly. "Everything... alright?" Her bright green eyes darted to his arms.

Sage looked down too. If she one day decided to blab about him to the papers, Sage didn't want to be known as the crazy plant Prince. His mother always said that those who had something to gain by being his friend would always help themselves in the end, and trample on him in the process.

"Yes. Just pressed for time today."

Mrs Beecham inspected the plant proudly, gently touching the soil, and even treating the pot it sat in as though it would break at any moment. "It's not worse, but it's not better yet."

"Of course it's not. You found it like this only a day ago."

"This type of ivy grows unnaturally fast."

Sage was still learning a lot about plants, but he had never heard of anything like this.

"So, don't be alarmed if it starts sprouting leaves within the next few days," Mrs Beecham continued. "Just don't be alarmed by anything this plant does."