Happy Easter!
- Sian
That evening, when Sage changed into his nightwear and Taro left to finish his chores, he returned when the clock struck twelve. First, Taro checked that his roommate was asleep. The man was a mound under his covers, breathing slowly and loudly.
Taro crept to the door, cringing at every creak of the floorboards. He slipped into the dark corridor. Sneaking to Sage's room in the night was hard, especially when the door at the end of the narrow hallway was always locked. The key hung next to it, a big heavy brass one that made a lot of noise as Taro fumbled around with it in the dark.
He tiptoed to the steep and narrow servant's staircase and ran up them two at a time. He could march when he reached the Royal's quarters. Oxley's room was a whole corridor and a half away from his brother. Nobody would hear Taro approaching, only Sage, if he were still awake.
Taro didn't knock, only briefly admired the vine carvings on his bedroom door and disappeared inside like a shadow in the dark.
Sage was in bed with the bedside lamp on and a book in his hand.
"Thought you'd be asleep," Taro said, carrying his Valet's uniform. Now that he didn't have to stash it in Sage's drawers, he put it on his desk chair.
"I thought you might have gone to sleep in the servant's quarters." Sage said, shutting his book. "Can I ask how many other people are like you who work here?"
Taro plopped himself down on the edge of Sage's bed, ignoring the way Sage narrowed his eyes. Probably debating whether I'm worthy of wrinkling his silk sheets. "A few. Mostly maids. My roommate is a human servant, so I'm careful around him. Most people like me are guards."
"I didn't know you shared rooms. Won't your roommate notice you're not there?"
"If he has, he hasn't said anything. I go when he's snoring and I'm back when he's snoring." Taro made himself comfortable, leaning back and propping himself up on his elbows. He loved to watch the way Sage fought against telling him off. "Are you okay about me sleeping in your room?"
"Well, you are my houseplant." Sage paused. "Not in a weird way."
"No, no. No weirdness. I am yours." Taro smirked.
"But that sounds weird."
"Yeah."
They both chuckled.
Sage put his book away and reached for the lamp until Taro asked if he was tired. "Not really," Sage confessed.
"Do you have anything to do tomorrow?" Taro wasn't tired. Frankly, he enjoyed talking to someone about himself, someone who wanted to learn about his kind. Taro didn't often share his true form with humans. Sage was certainly a special case, and he knew he had been careless, but he was yet to conclude whether he had wanted Sage to find out.
"Not yet. I was hoping to get in everyone's way in the garden."
"And I'm sure Mrs Beecham will love you for it."
"Was that sarcasm?"
"No, she really does love that you have an interest."
Sage made himself comfortable against the velvet headboard, wearing black silk pyjamas that matched his black silk sheets. "Has she said that?"
Taro nodded. "Countless times."
"To whom?"
"My mother, they're good friends. Mrs Beecham is proud that a Royal enjoys getting his hands dirty. To be honest, I thought she was just exaggerating and wanting to talk about how she knows a Royal because that's a big thing for our kind, considering the ancient agreement. But you're actually pretty sturdy, for a Prince." Taro had often sat at home, listening to his mother's friend drone on, and on, and on about Sage Green and the way he was always so eager to help out, and how the tabloids were talking rubbish about how he was unfit to rule a kingdom.
"You judged me so strongly."
"Yeah, and I love to be proven wrong."
They stared at one another, like they had been doing more and more each day. Taro had known Sage was gay when he first dressed him. Sage recoiled like a shy giddy teenager from his touch. Sage had watched Taro's hands and held his breath where Taro had briefly touched his skin. Sage had stared at him so curiously the moment Taro said flirty things.
Taro had been testing him the day he started working for a Prince. Sage's resilience was impeccable. He bounced back, even when the world stretched him a little too far. The longer Taro stayed around him, the more he saw that a great Prince, one who was next in line to be King, was blindly stumbling through life like the rest of humanity.
"Is there anyone like you in our gardens?" Sage asked, nestling against his cushions.
"The guards are either Devil's Ivy, or thorny roses. They were planted strategically in the path of those who guard the outer walls of the Palace. Mrs Beecham and her family planted our kind among other plants that are just plants, so nobody noticed a slight gap in the rose bush when one of the guards were on duty, and nobody noticed when the guards transformed and patrolled that area."
"And these guards, do they believe in that ancient agreement made between your kind and the Royals?"
"All of them do, yes." Relief spread across Sage's face. "Are you still worried about staying here after the break in?"
Sage nodded. "This place..." His hazel eyes travelled around his room as though he was seeing it for the first time. "We moved here after my grandfather died, and my mother became the Queen. One day I'll be the head of the Palace. I don't even know if I'll get the chance to move out before I'll have to move back."
Taro could tell that Sage wanted to talk about his tricky situation. He always neared the topic of him being gay and wanting to have a male partner. He never said it for what it was, his future. "You will. You have like, what? Thirty years before you're king. Maybe even longer. You'll be able to start a new life before you're forced back here."
Sage's face blanked, his jaw muscles tensed. "I am feeling tired, actually." He reached for the light and plunged them both into darkness.
Taro didn't move. "You can't avoid talking about it forever."
"You're my Valet."
"Who sleeps in your room, sure." Taro listened for any scoff, but Sage had stilled like the trees outside his window. "Oh come on, I've shared things with you that I shouldn't have shared. You've done the same, only your secrets don't have to be secrets."
"They do, for now."
Taro dared to walk around the bed and sit closer. Sage, as usual, let him. "You know you can talk to me about it, right? Surely, I've proven myself worthy of your trust. You know my biggest secret. Trust me because I trust you."
"Why?" Sage challenged. "You don't know me, as much as I don't know you."
His friends are Lords and Ladies. He's supposed to know everything about them before they meet. "You know a lot about me actually, you know my eating schedule, my favourite clothes, my biggest secret, a bit about my family, and about my family history. I know your sleep schedule, the fact that you always drink tea with two sugar cubes, how you take a bath when you're stressed, and that you're very fond of gardening, and how you're facing a lot of hardships in your life. I even know your secrets. Some might even say we're..." Taro gasped, "friends."
Sage was silent for a moment. Taro could hear him fidgeting with his silk duvet. "You're right, you are my friend."
Taro was pleased to hear it. Sage could easily run to anyone and tell them about him, and Taro would be made to show his true form, and then he would be in trouble, and his family would start a fight to get to him, and his family would ask for help, and before Taro knew it, a war would be on their hands.
"If you don't mind, I'm sleeping in my human form for a bit." Taro slid under the duvet. Sage's bed was like sleeping on a pond, floating on a calm untouched surface. He sank his head into the pillow and pulled the duvet to his chin, then the lamp turned on.
Sage was out of bed with crossed arms. "You're not sleeping in my bed," he protested. "You can sleep next to it in your, in your plant pot."
Taro crossed his arms too. "I need repotting."
Sage's frown wavered. "Really? Is it too small?"
"Yes, now that you've looked after me so well." Taro thought of when Sage first carried him up to his room. Taro had kept so still, not wanting to be dropped, or to be shoved right back into Mrs Beecham's stubby hands.
His thoughts wandered further to that dreadful morning and he scrunched his eyes shut. "Good night."
"Taro."
Taro cocked a blond brow. "Oh, we're being informal now."
"Well, you are in my bed."
Taro felt the wickedness rise within him and he choked back a chuckle. "Prince Sage, you're so scandalous." He watched with glee as Sage turned deep red, stammered, then tried to save himself by curling his hands to fists and grinding his jaw.
"I didn't mean it like that."
Taro rolled his eyes and gave up before Sage stormed around the bed and dragged him out. "Your bed can easily sleep four people. There's basically a full single bed between us. Just go to sleep."
"You go to sleep, there." Sage pointed to the empty bedside table.
"Not yet." Taro knew he was pushing boundaries almost as far as when he thought about kissing Sage. That night, he had thought mindlessly about it. Since then, he had thought seriously about what would have happened if Sage kissed back.
Taro stared in the Prince's direction, long after he huffed and climbed back into bed, switched off the light, and went to sleep. He stayed still, until Sage's breathing was soft and slow.
Their worlds were so different, yet they sat on the same level when they were together. Sage put up with his bold mouth, and Taro liked his empty threats, and the way Sage would pretend to be annoyed, then lessen his frown when he thought Taro couldn't see him.
More often than not, Taro was excited to greet him in the mornings, and greet him in the evenings. He thought he would hate the job. Running around to make sure a Prince looked good sounded like agony. He couldn't hate the job when his employer was so cute, and so desperate for someone like Taro to throw him a rope, and dig him out from where the crown had crushed him into the earth.