Taro looked left and right down the dark pathway between neat pink rose bushes. He snuck to the closest bench. The moon was high, the temperature was cold, and he didn't have long until he could talk to a guard on the night's watch.
Taro sat very still for almost seven minutes. Nothing moved, not even a bird or a fly or the leaves in the nearby tree. Taro only had his thoughts for company, and his thoughts were full of Sage Green.
He had allowed someone other than his mother to repot him. Taro smiled at the memory of the Prince's gentle touch. Sage had been so careful and so quick. Taro had felt him pacing and heard him muttering after the repotting process. Sage had cared so deeply for him in that moment, and it meant a lot.
He's not a prince who cares about looking good in front of others. He'll do good in the shadows because it's what's right. Taro had judged him harshly; he had judged him unjustly.
The moon then drowned him in a silver light, and the rose bush next to him wobbled and transformed into a large man wearing a pink top. His black eyes fell on Taro immediately. "Can't talk long," he said, stretching his arms. "My shift starts in two minutes. What do you want?"
Taro looked around and crouched behind the bench along with the guard. His uniform was buried in a plastic bag behind a loose rock in the Palace wall. Taro waited until the man had changed before looking around again. "Prince Sage knows," he whispered.
The guard stopped adjusting his waistcoat. His dark eyes studied Taro's face. "Is this war?"
"No. He is an ally."
The guard unleashed a breath. "Did you finally get caught? I heard whispers about your carelessness."
"Yes, but this is a good thing."
"You're lucky, very lucky. Prince Sage doesn't strike me as someone who could accept our kind. I'm surprised he's not running to his parents about it."
Taro frowned. "He's very accepting, and he knows how dangerous this could be to our kind. He adjusted my Valet position to fit around what I need. Spread the word that he is in favour of us." Taro left with a ball of fire in his head. Mrs Beecham had also expected Sage to run to his parents and dump the secret onto someone else.
Nobody seemed to really know Sagerian Greenthenor, nobody seemed to believe in him as a person, and not just a Prince who was next in line to be King. The thought saddened Taro. He trailed his glumness back to Sage's room and slipped in without a sound.
"Your job doesn't mean you can sneak off in the night."
Taro froze in the darkness. "I'm a plant man, I needed air."
"You could have opened a window." Sage rolled over. "Where did you go?"
Don't lie to him. "I went to tell a guard that you knew about our kind, and that you're on our side."
Sage didn't move, but Taro sensed his eyes digging into his face. "Why?"
"We are drawn to the Royals because of some old deal. It's exciting that a Royal knows about us, especially to those who believe in the ancient bond."
"Why would me knowing about you make a difference? I can't offer anything."
"Only your support, and that means a lot. Some are sick of hiding. We could thrive in this Palace when you're king."
"That won't be for another forty years or quite possibly longer."
"Yeah, but support from a Prince is nice." Taro plopped onto the bed. "It felt good to tell the guards. They're here because they believe in the ancient agreement. News will spread and I guarantee they'll bow lower tomorrow."
"This really does mean a lot, doesn't it?" Sage said quietly. In the darkness, Taro saw him hugging his pillow. "Just like how it means a lot to me that you accept me too."
"We're two sides of the same penny, you and I, Prince Sagerian." Taro laid down with a content sigh. "Also, yes, this means a lot. A little acceptance can take a person far." Sage took a while to reply, as he often did, as though every spoken word was calculated.
"You should go to sleep now. You have a busy day of following me around tomorrow."
"Not planning on running a marathon, are you?"
"Maybe."
Taro dared to shuffle closer on the bed. "I'm liking this new job title. I was getting bored of sitting in the servant's quarters, waiting for you to call on me."
"Didn't Osier give you other jobs to do?" Sage asked.
"Yeah, but I didn't do them."
Sage scoffed. "I don't know how you've not been fired already."
"Because I was handpicked by the Prince. Osier couldn't fire me."
Sage was quiet for a moment. "Did anyone find it weird that I picked you? Did anyone start rumours about... you know..."
You being gay? Taro felt sorry for him. Sage was still so repressed that he couldn't say it out loud, despite knowing that Taro was the last person to judge him. "No, and I doubt they ever will. And if they ever did, rumours like that wouldn't go far. Osier might drive everyone crazy, but he's loyal to you and your family." Taro rolled over, now close enough for their arms to touch. "Hopefully people will one day talk about you being... not so straight, and hopefully it'll be because you've found the courage to come out."
Sage sank further under his duvet and nudged Taro. "Go to your spot. You can't fall asleep on here again, it'll probably kill you."
He's more concerned about me than someone finding me sleeping in his bed. Progress. Each time they talked about Sage's future, the Prince cringed a little less about telling the world who he was born to be; a person who should shine as bright as the gleam on the crown that would one day crush his head.
Taro slept, but he sat in his plant form for a while, observing the way the air gently shifted with Sage's soft breaths. The generous dawn woke him five hours later. Daylight pumped his vines with energy, and Taro was soon able to transform into Sage's Valet, and personal guard.
He tiptoed around the room, changing to his uniform and smoothing down his blond hair. He peered into Sage's bathtub, wondering what it was like for a human to scrub off a days' worth of grime. If Taro looked after himself in his plant form, his human form needed no further attention.
Though he often wondered what it would feel like to drown his hair in floral shampoo. A sudden thought of Sage's hands running through his hair was so intrusive that Taro jolted. He abruptly left the bathroom, but couldn't get the feeling out of his head, even after running around in the servant's quarters to iron the Prince's clothes.
Before waking Sage, he paused by the side of the bed, peering down at such innocence. Sage was twisted among his silk sheets, still hugging a pillow. His dark curls frizzed and sprung out from a night of tossing and turning. His dark skin reddened on his cheeks, His soft lips slightly parted, His eyelids fluttered from dreaming.
Taro pinned his hands by his side, fighting the urge to peel back the curls on his forehead. "Sage," he said like he did every morning. Sage didn't move, so Taro spoke his name louder. Sage still didn't move, so he grabbed the Prince's shoulder and shook him awake.
"Stop," Sage mumbled, rolling away from him and muffling into his bedsheet, "Don't wake me like that."
"I've told you a million times that you sleep too deeply."
Sage mumbled something inaudible and got up, stumbling sleepily into his bathroom. He returned with a towel around his waist and wet tight curls dripping down his forehead. "You didn't leave me enough towels," Sage complained, pointing to his head.
"Use the one around your waist. Don't be shy." Taro's heart almost failed when Sage reddened, stammered, and stomped to his changing wall. Hm, I think a flustered Prince is my new weakness. Taro dressed him with a smirk.
He then followed the Prince to breakfast and stood by the door. He observed Sage's interactions with his family. Something about his character was stiff and uncomfortable and fake. He spoke little, his spine never touched the back of the chair, and when Sage did speak, he only said what his parents wanted to hear.
After breakfast, Taro then followed Sage to the servant's quarters to discuss his new uniform. The guards' eyes followed them, and they bowed lower than before. Sage had noticed, and anxiously tugged at the bottom of his shirt each time his eyes connected with another.
For lunch, Sage had to entertain a room full of family and friends. There, Taro got to see yet another side to him, a forced confidence. He laughed at jokes, talked politely with everyone in the room, and charmed his audience with a sweet smile. The only thing lacking was emotion. His hazel eyes usually leaked every silent word, but in a room full of people, they hardened.
Taro tried not to stare too much, but he couldn't help himself when Sage floated from person to person, leaving behind laughter and joy. His act was captivating.
If Taro had all that Sage had on his shoulders, he would hardly have the energy to muster a smile, let alone entertain a room full of important guests.
When the day was done, Taro could hardly draw his eyes away from the Prince, even when they returned to the bedroom to get Sage ready for bed.
"What is it?" Sage finally asked. "You're uncharacteristically quiet."
"You've given me a lot to think about."
"Like what?" Sage asked, standing still as Taro slowly buttoned up his silk night shirt. His knuckles brushed Sage's hot skin. Taro touched him on purpose. At first it was to watch how Sage got all flustered, but now he wanted that contact. He liked the way his own heart fluttered.
"Like how you're the strongest person I know." They looked at each other. Taro felt tingly when Sage's deep eyes bore into him, and his hand slipped inside his silk shirt.