Sage stared at the papers for a long tense minute. He turned towards the bathroom and listened. Oxley was asleep on the floor. Even if he was awake, he would've been too drunk to notice anything. Sage's heart pounded as he dared to turn over the first page.
A picture of his uncle stared back, though it wasn't a portrait of him glaring menacingly into the camera like he always did in photos, Patrick was walking into a building with his coat collar turned up, a black hat covering most of his forehead, and a white package under his arm.
There was a note next to the photo in Oxley's handwriting. "Silver Vine is in the package," Sage read aloud. Oxley, what have you been up to?
Sage slammed the cupboard shut when his brother suddenly tumbled into the bedroom and fell flat on his face.
"Shit," Sage grumbled and peeled him off the floor. He dumped him on the bed and left him to sleep in his formal clothing. He stopped by the cupboard on the way to the door, staring at it with a burning impulse to take the folder and hide it in his room, so he could see what secrets lay in Oxley's cupboard.
His morals ground him to the floor. Sage clenched his hands to fists to fight the urge and left the room so abruptly, he stormed into Taro.
"Steady Sage," Taro said after stumbling back. "Do you need help? Is Oxley still being sick?"
"He's asleep in his bed." Without making eye contact, Sage marched the hallway and ordered for a guard to check on Oxley every hour until dawn.
Sage busied himself because his head was just as messy. "Everything alright?" Taro asked as Sage scooped all the documents from his desk and shoved them into a folder by the wall. He couldn't get Patrick's name out of his head.
With everything going on in his life, Sage had almost forgotten why he offered to look after the dying house plant in the first place. He had more time to dawdle in the garden all because of the suspicious way his uncle died.
"My uncle was murdered," he said, turning to face those bright green eyes. "But my parents say he was a traitor, so we stopped mourning him early. They won't tell me what happened yet. Mum says that I should ask my dad, but now I know that I should ask Oxley."
Taro was silent for a moment. His worried stare hardened into one of unease. "Are you allowed to tell me this?"
"Probably not, but I trust you." Sage thought back to all they've shared with each other. He knew Taro's secret, and Taro knew his secret. They were together for most of the day, he preferred Taro's company over his closest family members, and they were not just friends anymore. "I found a folder in Oxley's room about my uncle. There were photos inside like someone had taken them secretly." Sage wrung his hands around and around. "I should've taken it. I need to know what's in it."
"Can you just ask Oxley tomorrow?"
"No because then he'll think I was snooping."
"Were you?"
"No, I was looking for his pyjamas. He doesn't have a Valet, so his clothes were everywhere."
Taro raised a brow. "Just tell him that. Won't he understand?"
"It depends on what was in the folder, and what he's trying to keep a secret." Sage smoothed a hand over his curls. He closed his eyes, and the tiredness stung behind his lids. "Maybe I should tell my dad about what I found." Sage then shook his head. "No, I don't want to get Oxley into trouble."
Going to bed that night was like trying to sleep with a bright light in his face. Sage tossed and turned to hide from his thoughts, but every time he woke up, they were first on his mind, pestering him, filling him with doubt and anxious speculation.
Morning was even worse. Sage not only had to deal with Oxley, but a hungover one, and a table full of hungover family members who had stayed after the Wine and Vine event.
"Ah, here he is!" his grandmother said, clasping her old and twisted fingers together, grinning like she had waited for him to show his mortified face all morning.
"Stopped crying, have you?" Brier sneered with an obnoxiously innocent smile.
Sage ignored him and sat next to his slumped brother. Oxley grunted some form of a hello, then mumbled, "thank you for making sure I didn't choke on my own vomit last night."
What are you up to? "It's fine. Another mourning period would've just been an inconvenience." Oxley weakly jabbed him in the ribs and made a feeble attempt to sit up. "Shouldn't you be sleeping this off?"
"I wanted to see if my face was in the papers. Wouldn't it be great if my vomit could outshine you for once?"
That would be something to celebrate. Sage held a monotone stare as his uncle lifted the closest newspaper and pointed at his face.
"Dumped your girlfriend at an event, real classy of you Sagerian," he said.
"You want to talk about class when you're spitting egg everywhere." Oxley gripped his stomach. "Chew with your mouth closed. I don't need to hear you, it's bad enough looking at you."
Sage did his best not to snort. His mother watched his every move, he could barely let his polite expression wobble towards a sneer. "She wasn't my girlfriend," he said loudly and stared directly at his father. "She was never going to be my girlfriend. I made that clear to you, and you still tried to set up dates behind my back."
Haliver stirred in his seat. For once, his icy blue eyes had cracked with shame. "She's perfect for you. I don't know why you turned her down," he said blankly, which earnt him a terrifying side-glance from the Queen.
Sage's gut flipped. He always hated this conversation. The panic rose as everyone opened their mouths. Who's going to say it? Who's going to question my interest? What if they joke that I'm gay? What if I don't hide it well? What if-
"She's too much for you," Oxley said, dropping his head into his hands. He was a shade paler, and an inch away from resembling a spoon with the way he curled over the table. "And the press love to torment her. You two together would've been chaos. Also... she's way too hot for you."
Sage sighed. You were so close to sounding like you thought with your head and not with your-
"You'll have to find a woman to marry soon," his grandmother chimed in. Sage had last seen her at the Castle where he escaped from the madness of his life, just for a little while. He longed to go back there, but only with Taro. He would give the staff the week off and spend is limited days living a life he had only dreamt of having.
Don't look at him, don't look at him- Sage looked. Taro was staring ahead. His face was stern and tense. His mouth was tight and slightly curled with annoyance. Yes, Sage thought, I dislike this conversation too.
"Just let him eat his breakfast," the Queen said. Her voice was like a knife slicing through the tension. Everyone glanced her way. She had been quieter than usual, silently seething, Sage could tell by the way her bottom lip twitched each time Brier or Jasminda spoke.
The rest of breakfast was an awkward silence, apart from cutlery clanking on plates and Oxley groaning and dropping his head against the table. Sage could barely cope with the quick stares, the curious eyes of those who were thinking about last night, and that overwhelming feeling of guilt in his chest.
I didn't do anything wrong. Taro was right, I would've told Liniana eventually. It's better that it happened now and not when I had reached my breaking point. Sage was first to leave the table. Luckily, Oxley was second and Sage followed him to his bedroom. If he returned to his own, he would've paced until he had driven himself mad.
"Want something?" Oxley mumbled as Sage made sure that Taro was okay to wait outside the room.
"Yes, actually," Sage said in a calm voice. He sat at Oxley's desk by the window and looked out to the garden beyond. Oxley had a much better view of the Palace grounds, and conveniently, a view towards the fence that he climbed most evenings to disappear into the night, doing all sorts of forbidden things for a Prince.
"Well, what is it?" Oxley flopped onto his bed. "I just need to sleep away this hangover."
Sage adjusted himself on the seat, eyeing a plant on Oxley's desk suspiciously until he touched it and realised it was plastic. "Before you complain- I didn't snoop in your bedroom, I found it by accident."
Oxley was so still, Sage thought he had fallen asleep, until he mumbled, "Why were you snooping?"
"I wasn't snooping." Sage crossed his arms with a scowl. "I was looking for pyjamas for you last night, but your clothes are a mess. I had to look everywhere. I still didn't find them by the way. Are you sure you're living your best life without a Valet?"
"Yes, and do you know why? Because I can wake myself up and not have daylight forced into my eyes and an old man grumbling in my ear about it being a delightful morning."
Sage scoffed. "Get someone younger then. Taro's the best Valet I've ever had. I'll admit he basically punches me in the arm to wake me up, but I guess I am a deep sleeper-"
"You're on a first name basis now?" Oxley interrupted.
Why would he pick up on that? Sage didn't want the silence to fill the gap. "We're not."
"Yes, you are. I heard him call you Sage yesterday."
"Where?"
"At the party when you were freaking out. I might've been drunk, but I do have ears." Oxley propped himself up onto his elbows. "Dad dragged me into that room too. You were way into your panic attack to notice me and to be honest, I think I fell on the floor and didn't get up until you were dragged out of there by your Valet."
Sage curled his fingers around the ends of the arm rests. This is not what I came here for. He sighed and clung onto his poise. "Taro is not only my Valet, but he's my personal guard now too. It wouldn't be bearable if we weren't friends. Now I came here to talk about something I found in your room when I was-"
"Snooping."
"No, when I was looking for . . . " Sage sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I found a file on Uncle Patrick." He paused when Oxley clenched his jaw and dropped his gaze. "I want you to tell me why it's in a secret compartment in your cupboard, and I want you to tell me everything you know about his murder."