All morning, Sage thought about his Valet, and his words about Sage looking good in his waistcoat. The Prince was used to that sort of attention from females. Never in his wildest dreams had he thought a male would flirt so casually with him in the walls of their Palace, especially not his Valet.
Maybe a young one was a mistake. What if I forget myself?
"What's on your heavy mind?" his father asked.
Sage looked up, meeting his cold blue eyes that never meant to be so icy. "Can I abandon my duties today?" he asked. "I know I'm supposed to be around for family guests later, but I just don't have the energy."
"You do look tired," Haliver observed. "I can maybe tell them that you're still ill, but you already missed them at Radix Castle."
"Dad, I just-"
"Your Royal Highness," a voice said at the door. They both turned to see a guard bowing her head. "Lady Liniana is requesting a private audience with Prince Sage."
Sage only just managed to keep in a sigh.
"Bring her in-"
"No," Sage interrupted his father. "I was just telling you that I didn't want to socialise."
"Well then, you should make a special effort for a Lady who wants your attention." Haliver grinned and raised his brows up and down.
"No." Sage's bluntness was final. He stood with a frown; one he wore rather frequently in recent days.
"Why not?" Haliver followed him through the room. "Come on, she'll be all over you because you're grieving. She'll want to cheer you up, if you know what I mean."
Sage yanked his arm from his father's grip. "I don't want her to be all over me, I want to enjoy the rest of my day in peace. Tell her I'm already occupied."
"Sage, you realise that if I turn Lady Liniana away again, she might not come back for a third time."
"Good."
"I'm serious. She's a perfect match for you. There won't be many of those before you have to marry."
Sage pinched the bridge of his nose. "Trust me, she's not a perfect match."
"Does that mean someone else is?"
Sage slumped his shoulders. "Just leave it, I'm going back to bed." He stormed the halls quickly, leaving his father to call his name until he could no longer hear him. Sage shouldn't have been rude and turned Lady Liniana away, but he had no strengths to deflect her flirting and edge around the room every time she tried to get close to him.
I should have stayed in bed. Sage's thoughts grovelled his mind until he paused by a large window on his way between the first floor and the second floor. The window opened up a full view of the flower-filled courtyard and the neat fields beyond.
He peered down at Mrs Beecham's shed. Autumn leaves had started landing on its roof. Next to it stood his favourite gardener, covered in mud, carrying a hose, and trying to wipe red hair from her eyes.
She stood with a tall man, a blond man. Sage stood closer to the glass. Mrs Beecham stood with his Valet, Taro Vinea, and it looked like he was being told off.
Sage would have loved to know what Taro Vinea had done to annoy her. Maybe his bold tongue had gone too far, maybe he had stolen some roses, or maybe he was just being annoying.
The Prince turned back around and ventured outside instead. He edged behind a thick hedge until he was close enough to make out some of Mrs Beecham's muttering. The wind only allowed him to hear broken sentences.
"You're getting too... too fast," she hissed. "You need to tone it down. Taro, you cannot lose... job. If you do, then... you hide?"
Taro cleared his throat when Sage felt uncomfortable snooping and stepped into view. "Good afternoon," Sage said quickly. "I uh, I need a word with my Valet."
Mrs Beecham bowed her head, but not before glaring at Taro, who was watching Sage with a curious grin.
"Am I fired?" Taro asked after Sage lead him away from open ears and towards the big fields. "I figured I would be after what I said to you this morning. You were looking for someone young, and professional. I'm only one of those things. But don't worry, I won't sell your soul to the papers or whatever."
Sage linked his fingers behind his back, deciding to play along with the conversation. "After what you said, I have done some thinking." Sage stopped and looked around. "If someone were to walk in on you being so..." Just say it. "Flirty, that would end any reputation I have left. Do you understand?"
Taro's green eyes circled his face. He crossed his arms and smirked his hardest. "So, you do recognise flirting."
"Mister Vinea," Sage said sternly. "I don't think you realise the severity of this situation. If anyone even heard this conversation, that would be it for me."
Taro studied him for a long awkward minute. His face hardened. "I thought you might have cared more about being true to yourself."
Sage was a little lost for words.
"If this is me speaking out of term, then fine, go ahead and fire me. You're quite clearly so repressed, you're terrified to even smile at another man." Taro kept his words quiet. He stepped back when Sage only blushed with embarrassment. "You cover it well, but I see you."
He knows, he knows I'm gay. If I fire him, he'll go to the press, they always do. If he stays, he might plant rumours anyway. "What do you-"
"No," Taro interrupted. "They're watching."
Sage looked from the corner of his eyes at two gardeners leaning against the wall, staring right at them. They were too far away to hear, but they could probably sense the tension.
"Shake my hand," Taro muttered, stretching out his fingers with the green nails. "You just said I could stay on another week, that's what we'll tell them if they ask. Nosy bastards."
Sage grabbed his hand. Taro squeezed it hard and didn't let go after the shake was done. "Your paranoia is sad, but I get it." His green eyes focused on the gardeners. "If you want to fire me now, then fine, but at least I'm being myself, Prince."
Taro walked away, wearing a usual smirk to hide the annoyance trying to dig its way out. Sage moved on immediately, sitting in Mrs Beecham's shed until he stopped feeling like he was going to be sick.
Part of him wanted to panic and fire his outspoken Valet before he took a step too far with his boldness. Part of Sage wanted to try and trust him, and part of Sage wanted to learn from him. Whoever Taro Vinea was, he was honest and had enough self-love to raise the entire population's confidence.
But now Taro Vinea knew too much about him because he had forgotten to deny his claims. What is this life? This stupid fucking pathetic-"
"Oh, hey Sage," Mrs Beecham chirped as she entered her shed with a broken plant pot. "Are you helping out, or seeking some quiet time? Also, I would love to know how you're getting on with Taro. I hope he's behaving himself?"
Sage regrouped his thoughts and smiled as politely as he could. "You'll have to excuse me. I'm not feeling too well."
He left and didn't stop until he reached his bedroom, his safe place. Sage missed his old house, the one he lived in before his mother turned Queen and they all had to move to the Palace. At least in his old home the staff didn't whisper about him, the walls didn't have eyes, and he could wander the halls in his nightwear and slippers.
For the rest of the day, Sage busied himself with some writing, some drawing, some staring at the wall until his head hurt. He only left his room to eat dinner with his family. He barely spoke a word while they discussed Patrick, and finding Patrick's murderer, but only when the servants were out of the room.
Sage barely listened, only when his mother touched his hand to ask if he was okay. Sage stuck with his excuse of feeling unwell and excused himself from the room, returning to the safety of his bed.
He didn't call Taro up at bedtime. He couldn't face the tension. He very nearly called Osier up to tell Taro that he was dismissed come morning, but he didn't.
For some unsaid reason, Sage couldn't fathom why he wasn't firing Taro Vinea. His grandmother often said, the mind that wants it all is the mind that knows no small. Sage feared that if he let someone like Taro into his life then he'd lose himself in his wants and needs.
Sage lived a very different life. He hardly got anything he really wanted, and what Sage really wanted was the love of another man, and a life free from the spotlight. How could those things happen when he would one day be king?