Taro's eyes lit up. Sage could tell that he wanted to comment on how he said it aloud. Sage's palms started to sweat. He felt exposed just thinking about the word. Now that it had been spoken for others to hear, he waited for everything to tumble down on him.
But the longer he waited, the calmer he felt. Taro smiled at him, and Sage relaxed against the mattress. "This is not just some fling," he whispered.
"No," Taro replied. "It's really not." He shifted closer. "I know what you're risking for me. I wouldn't get this near if I didn't have feelings for you."
"Neither would I." Sage's heart pounded so hard, he felt it all over his body.
"So, you're thinking about telling your parents?" Taro asked. "You know you don't have to tell them anything now? I told you that I don't mind keeping this a secret. I'm okay with it. I quite like sneaking around."
"I'm not sure if it'll be this week or next year. I don't want to sneak around forever but . . . "
"But you have the weight of the crown on your head," Taro said, understanding what he was trying to say. "If we get caught, I lose my job, while you risk losing everything." Taro's hand touched the silk fabric on Sage's arm. He rubbed it between his fingers. "But you'll never lose me. You're likely terrified of losing your family and your home, but I know the risks of doing stuff like this with you at 2am, and I'm not only- whatever this is between us, but I'm your friend too. I'll be here for you, it's important that you know that."
"That means a lot to me." Sage felt shy under Taro's gaze and inspired by his comforting words. He wanted to tell him that he wouldn't let him get fired, and that they were in this together now, and that he was his friend too, but words often failed him. He shifted closer to Taro Vinea, the man everyone doubted as his Valet, but proved himself worthy as a friend. He turned on his side and pressed his face against the chest of the man he had kissed passionately under a tree in the storm, in secret, in darkness, in fear of getting caught.
It was worth it, Sage thought when he felt Taro's arms around him for the second time that night. It was so worth it.
He woke when the sun was streaming through the crack in his curtains, and the birds sang loud, and the workers in the garden talked loudly and freely. Sage rolled over, landing on cold sheets and a cold pillow.
He shivered and pulled himself under the duvet, his head weighed twice as heavy and his eyes couldn't stay open for long. "You smell of sickness," a voice said, closer to his ear than Sage would've expected. He peeked above his duvet. Taro knelt by his side with his chin against his palm. "A date at two in the morning wasn't our wisest choice."
Sage blinked up at him. His eyes hurt, his head throbbed, and his throat scraped together like sandpaper. "You can . . . smell sickness?"
"We can smell it strongest in other plants when they have diseases and stuff, which means we can also smell it in humans, not as strongly, but it's still there."
"What does it smell like?"
"Nothing bad."
Sage narrowed his eyes. "Well, I'm hardly sick." He forced himself out of bed and did his best not to flinch and grumble when Taro opened the curtains.
"Oh, you've missed breakfast by the way."
Sage froze. "Are you joking?"
"No. Your father came up and asked why you were still asleep. I told him you had stayed up very late last night. He wasn't phased and told me not to let you miss lunch."
"And you didn't wake me because you could smell this- this sickness?"
Taro nodded, and Sage, ill and tired, let a surge of annoyance up his throat to manipulate his tongue. "Why would you do that? Now I'm going to have to explain to them why I was up so late!"
"I just thought you should sleep more-"
"That's not your decision to make," he snapped. "You should've done your job." Sage stomped into the bathroom and slammed the door. He winced at the pain in his head and slumped against the wall. What am I doing? He immediately yanked the door back open, and his heart almost crumpled at the guilt on Taro's face. "I'm so sorry," he said, stepping anxiously back into the bedroom. "You were being thoughtful of me, and I threw it back in your face. Forgive me."
The guilt melted away and Taro raised a brow. "Are you moody because you're ill?"
"I'm not ill."
"Yes, you quite clearly are."
Sage crossed his arms. "Am I forgiven?"
Taro grinned a cheeky grin, one that made Sage nervous. "Beg."
"Excuse me?"
"Beg for my forgiveness," Taro said with a twinkle in his eye.
"No."
"Then I don't think I forgive you."
And just like that, Sage was a little flustered by Taro's flirting. "I can live with that," he said and spun on his heels, entering the bathroom with a tight chest. He wasn't used to playing along with Taro's games.
Taro hurried after him, just like Sage expected. "Can you?" he asked, leaning against the door frame, crossing his arms, watching Sage squirt toothpaste onto his toothbrush. "You'll get no more kisses, no more hugs, no more sleeping on me through the night." Taro's words had aimed to make Sage blush at the reminder of what they had done in the early hours of the morning, but Sage had awoken with a spark of his own.
"I won't beg to anyone who doesn't accept a sincere apology." Sage's hazel eyes flicked to his Valet. Taro's smirk shaped into one of respect. "If you can't accept it, then it's no longer my problem."
Taro joined him at the sink. "Well played." He looked Sage up and down, lightly tugging on the bottom of his silk top. "I like the way you think, it's a shame you don't show this side of you to the public."
"Royals don't have opinions or personalities." Sage brushed his teeth, doing well not to get distracted by how close Taro stood next to him.
"Well, you're just not allowed to voice them or express yourself," Taro added. "I think that's ridiculous."
"Who cares what I think or feel? And I'm not saying that to sound pitiful," Sage said with a smile. "It's not all about me."
Taro leant into him, and Sage pursed his lips. He felt warm, and Sage just wanted to drop his pounding head against his shoulder and close his eyes. But he didn't, and pretended that he didn't feel sick, shivery, and exhausted. "I should get dressed for lunch."
"Or you should go back to bed and-"
"I don't need more sleep. I'm fine."
"Who said I meant sleeping?" Taro chuckled at Sage's reddening face and large eyes. "I'm kidding! You should go to sleep because you're ill."
"I'm not."
"You're stubborn."
"I am."
Taro softly clutched Sage's waist and brushed their noses together. Sage wondered if he felt the same rush of adrenaline. "I'm sorry I didn't wake you this morning. I didn't really think about how it would get you into trouble."
"And I'm sorry for snapping at you."
Taro kissed his nose and Sage wanted to melt against him. "Let's get you dressed for the day. Do you have anything to do after lunch?"
"I'm not sure, I hope not." Sage dressed in smart brown jeans with a white shirt and a dark green jumper over the top. He wore black shoes and a black watch to match. He made sure his curls were not as frizzy before leaving the bedroom.
The journey to the dining room felt longer than usual. The grand corridors droned on and on and on. Sage's head thumped painfully by the time he sat down in front of his family for food.
"Why were you up late?" his father asked before even greeting him with a hello.
"I just was," Sage said, trying to avoid glancing in Taro's direction. Just thinking about their kiss was enough to make him hot.
"The storm kept me up too," Oxley said before their father could ask anything else. "The thunder was so loud."
"As was the rain," the queen also added, sitting opposite her sons. "It seems like we were all up late last night." Her dark eyes stared hard at Oxley who dropped his gaze.
Sage noticed their tension. She must have known that he left the Palace grounds last night. But how? If she knew that, maybe she knew that I- Sage also dropped his gaze when her stare settled on him. She doesn't know. How could she know? Calm down.
Sage ate as much food as he could handle. The longer he sat under the bright chandelier, the more his eyes hurt, and the more his eyes hurt, the more his head hurt, and the more his head hurt, the more he wanted to lie down and sleep.
They'd know I was out in the rain if I told them I wasn't feeling well. Wouldn't they? Sage's paranoia consumed him. They'd definitely piece it together. He ground his jaw and struggled through the rest of lunch. All the while, he thought about what he had found in his younger brother's bedroom. What was Oxley really doing as he snuck from the Palace walls? Anyone could have followed him back to the wall and found a way to enter. Sage hadn't expected a normal street to be on the other side, leaving the hole in the wall so exposed.
In that moment, he almost spoke up about the wall to ask for it to get fixed, but something stopped him. Sage glanced to Taro who studied a painting on the wall to their right. The freedom of peering into the outside world was like a breath of fresh air after being inside for too long.
If they covered up the hole in the wall, Sage could no longer live with that fantasy of one day gaining enough courage to sneak away. He once was Prince Sage, next in line to be King, destined to marry a woman and make an heir.
But now he was Prince Sage, next in line to be king, destined to marry and abdicate the throne, or destined to marry and lose his parents love, or destined to marry and change monarchy history. Either way, Sage would not marry a woman, and closing that path put him on a dangerous road, one he would rather not walk alone.
Taro stopped admiring the painting and locked their gaze. Sage held it for as long as he dared, feeling the burning inside his chest while his pulse spiked, and the dryness to his throat at the thought of getting caught staring at him.
Sage couldn't look away. He didn't want to look away. He wanted to admire the person he had kissed in the rain, and the person he had fallen asleep next to, and the person he had so bravely allowed into his life. I've already chosen freedom, he realised, now that he was living another life in secret.