No. No. No.
Ralph crouched down on the ground and looked at the yellowing leaves of the tomato sapling. Fertile soil, check. Sufficient water, check. Pulling the weeds around, check. Sunlight - he looked up at the brightness, with one eye squinted - big bloody check.
What went wrong then?
Dejected, he walked inside his house barefoot, climbing the small stony steps. "You see that?" he spoke aloud into the quaint drawing room, "Not even one thing wants to stay in this house."
A grunt came in response.
Ralph scoffed, "I mean, what have I done so wrong? Those books are clearly ridiculous. They say gardening makes one feel calm and here I am enraged beyond my wits."
This time a cooing echoed, of understanding or maybe of... mockery.
"Now, now, Ruby. Be nice. You are on my side, aren't you?"
His little Phoenix was standing still with her head tucked in front of her head, her beautiful red feathers puffed out. Shaking his head, Ralph walked to her bird stand, placed in front of a large window. He whispered, bending to her height, "Of course, you don't care about any of that. Baby girl just wants to be scratched." He tickled under her neck, "Right here."
Ralph heard her laugh, or something like a sigh and his face broke into a dimpled-smile, as he petted her some more.
At least I have you, Ruby.
When he bought this house, after being dethroned as the King of the Summer Realm, on the outskirts of a small village in Arien, the one thing he had made sure was to keep iron objects away - the only fatality for Phoenixes. Being a baby, whom he had himself fascinatingly seen rise up from ashes, five years back... Ralph always worried for her. But smart as a whip, this girl was already like a teenager - fussy and demanding. He fished out bunch of cloves from his tunic's pocket, which he always kept handy and spread them over her velvety stand; she got to munching in a jiffy.
Ralph swept a glance all over the drawing room, stretching his body lazily, the dead knots and muscles cracking all at once.
In the center of the room, two wide settees faced each other, with a glass table between them, where he'd fall asleep burning the midnight oil over correspondences. An armchair near the wide window beside Ruby's bird-stand, yet another place to fall asleep while reading a book, which he'd pick from the bookshelf carved in the wall separating the drawing room and the kitchen. From the domed red-tiled ceiling, a small chandelier with an orange fire orb fixed inside to lighten up the room at night-a gift from one of his new neighbors-hung low. A small staircase opened up to three more rooms upstairs, which he knew not the purpose of, for he only ever used one of them.
Warm breezes ruffled his lengthened blonde hair from the wide-open entrance, as he debated whether he should get on with cleaning. Reluctantly, he picked up the dishes from last night which had then made him yawn. A dirty boot lay in a corner on the marble floor, its better half missing. The butter-yellow curtains swayed back and forth in all the three windows of the drawing room, while the lilt of the flowing stream in the backyard mingled with Ruby's coos.
After four chilly months in the Ice Realm, the warmth of his Fire Realm was like a salve on almost all his wounds. It would take him a year at the most to get used to the fact that he was... on his own. He hadn't asked for servants and guards and boy, did he wish his pride weren't as huge as the volcanoes of his Realm.
"Ralph!" A familiar kiddish voice called from the doorway.
"Again, huh?" he asked even without turning, putting the dishes back where they were, glad for the reprieve.
"Yes, again, hurry up," the child giggled and his footsteps receded.
Wiping his hands on his linen trousers, Ralph walked out towards Mistress Wilma's house in the neighborhood. It had been hardly two months since he had settled here and already, he knew the whole place. Etched like a map in his otherwise directionless head. Runs in the family, he mused with a smile.
The bubbly blue water of the gushing stream glistened like stars under the yellow sunrays. Fondly, he looked around. Some were proper households with large families, while one was a shack with a lone widower, another was a lavish councilor's cottage that put Ralph's one-storied house to shame. Some young girls were trampling their soaked laundry in a huge tub of warm water and wood ash; they curtsied and giggled as he passed them. Cows grazed along pastures lined along the stream and on the other side, wagons and carriages hopped over the red soil. Day after day, Ralph couldn't help but watch in fascination as the commoners went by their lives. Well, he was one of them now.
A regular morning peddler tipped his hat at Ralph, earning a smile in return. However, a stout man passed by him, muttering something about 'royal abomination.'
Right in the first week of his stay, Ralph had punched three such gnats, who blatantly called him and his sister names and now he knew it would only add more coal to the blazing flames. Taking a deep breath, he spoke loud enough for the man to hear - "Bugger off."
Ralph jogged the remaining distance, when he saw the lady with her signature apron over her middle, long-braided hair done up in a kerchief, scolding one of her kids, about the... usual. The mill in their kitchens must be stuck again.
"Ah, Your M-" she began but raised her hands in surrender, "No, Ralph."
He shook his head in jest and asked the red-headed boy, "Lost a shirt again, youngling?" The kid nodded, wiping his pretentious tears.
"I plan on keeping him naked from now on. That ought to show him," the woman glared at her kid of seven. "Thank you so much, Ralph. We trouble you too much."
"Not an issue. Go easy on the kid, though." Saying that, Ralph dived into the stream headfirst.
He only had his friend of the Winter Realm to thank for, who had taught him how to swim long back, when he had developed a fear for water like all the Fire Elementals. The vigor with which Summer Realm loathed the Autumn Realm, was balanced with the friendly alliance with the Winter Realm. Even when they couldn't stand the opposing climates.
Gliding in swiftly, Ralph found the waterwheel, like the five other times he had. And indeed, there was the boy's tiny shirt, stuck in the sluice, clogging it and thence, jamming the wheel. Just one hard tug and the shirt came out. Then he gave the wheel one mighty push. It rumbled back to life and started to slowly rotate, gaining speed. Almost a routine waltz, this.
With the shirt in one hand, he swam back and resurfacing, gasped for breath. The boy jumped with delight. Ralph balled up the soaking shirt and aimed it at him. It hit his stomach, making him tumble on his butt and the kid laughed into the morning haze.
The woman chuckled, "Now I don't have to hand-grind the flour. I will bring you some bread later for lunch. Alright?"
Ralph climbed out, dripping wet and roved a hand through his sloppy hair, pushing them back. "You're too kind, Mistress."
"Ah, not at all, not at all. We treat the King right around here." She looked him up and down, "You went in with your clothes on again. Isn't it better to keep them out?"
He smiled thinly, pulling the full-sleeves even low, "No. That's alright, really." He hurried off, "Let me know if he loses another shirt."
"You have such a good... body in there. Why hide those muscles, Defensor?" The woman called playfully, eyes traversing from his face to his broad shoulders and chest, which were drenched and the tunic had turned see-through.
"Everyone's married around here, just like yourself, mistress," He winked at her, pointing at her kid and made way back to his cozy little house.
***
The reason why Ralph had bought this particular house right in the middle of a busy locality, was to stay in touch with all the rumors and news. There was a routine to his new life now. Every alternate day, visit the local tavern. And do your thing.
Plain red tunic tucked inside black baggy trousers and an overly heavy cavalier hat slanted low on his head, Ralph tugged on the reins of his chestnut stallion and the hooves stomped across the neighborhood. It wasn't much of a secret around, about who he was, nevertheless, he tried to hide his face as best as he could, for not everyone was as kind as the waterwheel mistress. He tried not to ponder too much about the sense of humiliation that shook his bones from time to time. So much for being a Defensor and fighting a war!
Outside the tavern, the heat wave mingled with the darkening tangerine skies, while inside, it was as crowdy as it could get, as people making way for their homes with a small detour for a drink, leisurely lounged. Their horses softly neighed in the stable close by.
From the entryway, Ralph threw one glance at the man behind the counter and he tipped his head back covertly, knowing what to do.
In the next moment, an abrupt raucous laughter spread around the bar-counter and half of the crowd hurried to watch the new mixture of drinks with fire dancing on the glasses' rims. Someone started a song, a rather bawdy one with a fiddle stringing and knuckles and fists rattling against the tables for rhythmic beats. Ralph slid behind his usual discrete table in the farthest corner.
With sufficient distraction, another man slid across his table. A practiced server brought two tall mugs of beer and scooted away like a squirrel.
"Sure, no one saw you, Walter?" Ralph asked, while internally he coaxed himself to stop at just that mug, for he needed his wits about.
His old trusted personal guard smiled boyishly, "There was a guard, who kept pestering me. But you know me, Your Highness." Ralph watched as he removed an envelope from his leather vest and slid it across the rickety wooden table.
"Tell me that this contains the draft of the new tax-norm." Ralph said, tucking the envelope inside his trousers' pocket.
"Yes. It took me some time to forge the original one. I reckon we have a fortnight or so before the patrollers start making rounds with the announcements."
Ralph groaned with clenched teeth, "One does not raise taxes after a battle has been fought, after precious soldiers have been lost." He felt ashamed that his mother had taken such a drastic decision.
"The Councilors give her the worst suggestions, Your Highness. At least that's what I found out."
The pipsqueaks.
"Your Highness, the domestic household is utterly blown. Wages aren't paid for the servants. You know, the old cook Mistress Mollie, her daughter was sick and needed money for a healer. She had to sell her house. Then there was this case in the courtroom of a man who had lost a huge part of his date farm in the eastern desert..."
Ralph sighed, leaning back, as Walter narrated incident after incident about the deranged administration of his estate, of his House, of his whole damned Realm.
"What is the new Queen doing?"
Walter whispered, "There was a celebration at the palace, a couple of days ago."
"Do I even dare ask what it was for?" Ralph gritted his teeth. It was always the same thing with her, celebrations and revelries, the reason why he loathed having people around because there were always people around.
Walter shook his head, "There was no occasion as such. Some other nobility arrived. Not many. But the feast laid out was enough to have sufficed for three months of wages for the whole household."
"Splendid," He lapped the cold beer furiously until the mug was half-empty. "But only I have access to the treasure burrow. Only my smoke magic can open the tunnel."
Walter shrugged helplessly.
The crowd around the counter was dispersing and Ralph instructed faster. "Put a huge dog. A massive bear-like thing in the passage that leads from the basement to the burrows and keep no guards around so there would be no one to help her. This could buy us a few days, while I find another method of security."
Walter's eyes twinkled and Ralph added with a frown, "With a leash. Please."
He pursed his lips. Ralph knew not whether to be offended or to laugh, that his guard was excited by the idea of his mother being chased by a dog.
"Also, Your Highness, I think it's time for proper espionage. Our men can't get through her... private affairs."
"Hmm." Ralph chewed on the insides of his cheek, twirling a giant silver ring off his forefinger, as his brain arranged plans. "My mother does have a horde of female soldiers to do her bidding. But you reckon there's anyone particularly capable enough who'd spy on her and the councilors for us?"
Walter seemed thoughtful, but then shook his head, "Can't think of any woman right at the moment, who doesn't work for her. I'll look into it for a few more days, if that is alright with His Highness."
"Of course," Leaning forward Ralph spoke in hushed tone, "I have some coins around at the palace. In my study, fourth drawer of the fifth cabinet. Pick up the stash. For now, it'd do. Pay them all."
"So, steal your money, precisely, Your Highness?" he smiled.
"Get into the habit." He then added in an icy undertone of warning. "Walter, if you suddenly have a change of heart-"
The guard raised his bearded chin instantly, "Never. Sworn the oath of loyalty to the throne just for this, to right the wrongs, to serve the worthy ruler."
In his eyes, Ralph saw honesty and he admired that-he needed people like this very man to resist the injustice, for he wasn't stepping inside his palace, inside his home after being discarded so, while his mother hadn't even bothered to check up on him.
They clinked their beers and slurped it down in massive chugs. Once done, Walter bowed in his seat and was about to get up, when Ralph remembered something.
"Hey, Walter, listen... does a tomato plant has trouble growing here in the sun?"
Walter blinked. "Um... perhaps, Your Highness. I am not sure. But my cousin does cultivate bell peppers and sweet potatoes the size of dragons."
"Hmmm."
With the envelope carefully tucked inside his trousers, Ralph made his way back to his new house, galloping along a hillside, letting warm snuggly wind play in his hair and soothe his nerves. From many a miles away, in the violet evening glow, he could still make out the silhouette of the largest tower of his old home.
The old negligent Ralph had never wanted a crown, but now that it was snatched from him, he missed the weight of it... more than the comfort of any palace.
***
Author's note: I love third person narration more and more so after this chapter. Lemme know how you are liking it with your votes and comments. Cheers🥂
Also, Ralph used to be the apple of my eye but I think now he is the TOMATO of my eye *grins*