In the Palace Garden, the wind whipped at Sage's skin and numbed his face. The cold seeped around his fingers as he helped add extra soil to the base of the rose bushes.
"They're not lasting that long this year. We've had a few extra bugs in the soil," Mrs Beecham said with a worried frown.
Sage looked around. Taro stood in the distance, watching them. No doubt he was wishing he could be closer, but not wanting to cause too much suspicion. "Are these . . . plant people?" he whispered, feeling a cold shiver down his spine. The cold wasn't making him feel any better, though the fresh earthy air was clearing his head a little.
Mrs Beecham nodded, also scanning the area. Other gardeners shaped bushes into round blobs and the trees into triangles. Soon, they'd have lights dotted around them as the months rolled closer to Christmas.
"Keeping all the outdoor plants healthy has been hard this year, really hard, harder than usual." She dug her spade into the mud and left it protruding upwards. "Luckily for those like Taro, gardeners of the Palace are very dedicated to keeping a very healthy garden."
"Are you ordered to do that? Or is it just because you know they're part human . . . like Taro?"
"Once, long ago, those in charge of the Palace grounds ordered us to do it, but now it's a secret among only a few. Not all gardeners are from a line of family members who have worked here. We have new ones, people doing apprenticeships, people coming to help who want to learn from no previous experience. How can you tell someone with no gardening experience that most of these plants can turn into humans and if they don't do their job properly, the Palace will lose most of its guards?"
"That's a pretty heavy subject. Nobody would believe it." The sun cracked the clouds, burning a fierce pain behind his eyes.
"But you did, and I can feel a shift in the air because a royal knows and accepts them for who they truly are."
Sage patted the soil flat, smiling through his sickness. As a future ruler, he didn't want to create fear. He touched some of the drooping orange roses, hoping that they lasted a little longer in the cold weather.
"So, how have you been?" Mrs Beecham asked, sitting back on her knees, pulling off her muddy gardening gloves and sweeping ginger curls from her eyes.
"Okay," Sage said. Okay was an understatement. He was falling for his Valet, he was sneaking around and kissing another man in the rain, he was sleeping with his head on Taro's shoulder, he was slowly coming out of the closet, he was losing friends, hiding from the paparazzi, figuring out secrets, stressing about people breaking in and people hurting Taro. His life was a whirlwind of problems and chances. Sage could barely keep up.
But being out in the garden rooted him. Sage felt like his feet were always on the ground with wind in his hair and the earth under his fingernails. "Actually, I'm better than okay, but I've just got a lot on right now," he admitted, glancing at Taro who was flicking a beetle off his shoulder. "How are you?"
"I'm doing good," Mrs Beecham said, looking back and forth between Sage and Taro. "Are you two getting on well? I know Taro can be quite a rule breaker and you are quite the opposite. He's not driving you mad, is he?"
"Only every other day." They shared amused glances. "He's doing great, and it's doing me some good by being around a real person. Well, you know what I mean. Someone who tells me exactly what he thinks and doesn't treat me any differently because of my title. It's refreshing and I'm building strength from it."
"I'm glad. I was worried that I suggested someone who you'd end up firing in a month. Taro has surprised me, but I always knew he was a hard worker."
"Did you know his opinions of Royals before you suggested I hired him? He thought I would be a spoilt brat," Sage laughed. "He had little interest in doing his job properly. He didn't care if he did it well or not, he didn't care what I thought of him."
"For as long as I've known Taro, he's never cared what anyone thought of him, especially a Prince. To him you're just another person. This might surprise you Sage, but that's how a lot of people outside these walls view you."
Sage found comfort in that, followed by a searing deep cold jolt in the pit of his stomach. He was just another person with a title that meant nothing to most. Sagerian Greenthenor was either loved or hated, and the tabloids made sure the hatred for him outweighed any other emotion.
"His friendship shows a lot about your character," Mrs Beecham continued. "You're likeable and kind, Taro might've come to you with unjust opinions, but he likes to be proven wrong. I bet that he was pleasantly surprised by you."
Sage watched the sun brighten her green eyes and redden her curls. "That's really nice of you to say."
"I only speak the truth, Your Royal Highness." She dared to rest a hand on his shoulder. "You'll make a compassionate king one day."
The shiver down Sage's spine spread to his legs. The cold autumn weather had beaten him. "I should go inside now," he spoke quietly, trying not to chatter his teeth, or show that he was deeply touched by her words. "Thank you for letting me join you today."
"You're always welcome."
Sage left with a heart bursting with admiration. Others could see him in a depth far deeper than he would ever view himself, and those who got close to him that way never saw anything bad. Sage almost felt hopeful by the time they reached the top floor. He heard Taro following behind, with his shoes against the stairs and his breathing rising with each flight they climbed.
Sage abruptly stopped on the last step and Taro bumped into him. "Were you walking with your eyes closed?" he teased, turning to see the famous smirk.
"No, but I was looking at something that was quite distracting." Taro's glistening green eyes flicked the Prince up and down. Sage reddened in an instant. "Come on." Taro grinned. "I'll light the fire." He reached out and tugged on Sage's wrist.
Sage allowed Taro's warm fingers to wrap around his hand as they walked. His room was just down the corridor, but in the moment of fluster and flirting words, he had forgotten he wasn't the only one to occupy the top floor.
Oxley was storming down the corridor when they turned the corner, playfully holding each other's fingers. Sage's heart leapt from his chest at the sight of his younger brother. He snatched his hand back, but the motion attracted Oxley's gaze. His eyes had already seen what he tried to hide.
Taro swiftly stepped to the side and bowed weakly at Oxley who had stopped walking. "Sir," he mumbled, linking fidgeting hands behind his back.
Sage could only wrap arms around himself. He wanted to cry and desperately explain himself, or justify himself, or turn and run for the hills.
"Been gardening?" Oxley asked, as calm as ever.
Sage felt his heartbeat hot in his face. "Y-Yes," he stammered. "It's too cold now, though." Maybe he didn't see. Act normal. "What are you up to?"
"I'm going for a walk before my escape route gets covered up." Oxley crossed his arms. "I understand why you told dad about the hole in the wall. I just want you to know that I do come back drunk, but I'm always careful not to be followed."
"How can you be sure?" Sage glanced to Taro who pursed his lips and stared blankly ahead. He could tell his heart was also racing.
"I am friends with a few guards, you know," Oxley chuckled. "And it's basically impossible to sneak anywhere in this Palace without anyone knowing." His eyes moved between the Prince and his personal guard. "Enjoy your evening."
Oxley walked on, disappearing around the corner and down the stairs.
The men rushed to the bedroom and safely locked themselves inside. Sage collapsed onto the velvet couch by the door. He covered his face with his hands and exhaled a shaky breath. "That was . . . he totally saw us."
"What exactly did he see?" Taro asked, sitting next to him. "We were barely holding hands. That doesn't mean anything, right?"
"Royals have professional friendships with everyone who works here. I don't loosely hold hands with anyone. He'll know that." Sage tugged at his jacket, suddenly very warm. "I feel a bit sick."
"Even if he did see and think something of it, he chose not to say anything."
Sage tore off his jacket and pulled his jumper over his head. He wanted to stand miserably under a cold shower and scold himself for being so careless. He stormed into the bathroom and did just that, which didn't help.
Sage left the shower numb in both body and mind. After changing by himself and staring judgingly in the bathroom mirror for far too long, his stress turned into something he had not expected. Excitement laced his veins. Getting caught, or almost getting caught meant that he was a huge leap closer to the life he had always wanted.
But Sage didn't want to come out that way. He wanted to come out in his own time and on his own terms. He wanted to be in control of something, just for once in his life. He had to be cautious, and that thought fuelled his spark.
He sighed in defeat, accepting how he enjoyed the thrill. Be careful about this, he reminded himself, and entered a nice warm bedroom, lit by the crackling fire opposite his bed. Taro sat on Sage's swivel chair with linked fingers and a serious frown. "Are you okay?" he asked.
Sage nodded. "I'm not sure I have a reason to worry if Oxley saw something." Sage approached Taro and leant against the dark wood of his desk. "He's my little brother, he wouldn't say anything that would hurt me and hurt the future of the crown."