Prince Sage and Taro Vinea were halfway to their destination by bedtime. Sage had left like a thief in the night, not saying goodbye to his parents, nor his younger brother who had once been his best friend. Tension released Sage's chest the further up the country they travelled.
He sat next to his personal bodyguard in the back of the car, full of other bodyguards who Taro had carefully selected. They were all like Taro- plant people- who could turn into various plants and flowers. Sage was so curious, he wanted to ask each of them about their lives, but he didn't because a Prince was never too curios about the lives of strangers.
Sage no longer ached with stress, but he shuddered with sadness. Who have I become? He thought. These people will protect me with their lives, I owe them more than just my stupid curiosity. He sank into his seat, wishing to stretch his legs.
Taro, who had his chin on his palm and his elbow on the lip of the window, turned to face him when their legs brushed together. "How long?" he asked the two guards sitting in front of them, who leant to the two people in front of them, one being the driver.
"Three hours," they reported back.
Taro sank in his seat too and silently touched Sage's fingers. "Put your seat back and sleep. I'll wake you when we're almost there."
Sage declined his seat and closed his eyes. He was safe with Taro next to him, but he struggled to sleep deeply for the next few hours, especially when they started travelling through narrow snaking country roads, swaying left and right, and occasionally dipping low, just to climb higher and higher.
He was a little sick of the altitude popping his ears and wanted to grumble about the fast driving, until he sat up and saw the snow. "Oh!" he gasped, watching flakes zoom across the glass.
"We must be high in altitude now," Taro commented. "That was like flicking on a weather switch."
"Taro, can you guys . . . Um, are plant people okay with this weather?" Sage whispered.
One of the guards sitting in front turned and tried to bow his head. "We checked the weather forecast before setting off, Your Royal Highness. We brought plant pots and soil with us, so if you wouldn't mind, there may be a few mismatched plants around the cottage for the duration of your stay."
Sage smiled. "I don't mind at all, do what makes you most comfortable."
The guard offered a warm smile in return and faced the window again, watching the snow like an awe-stricken child.
They soon arrived at the cottage. The front was built of old grey stones, leaving misshapen holes for misshapen windows and a wonky but sturdy front wooden door. Sage observed the building- tiny compared to his Palace home, yet large for just one person to visit.
Orange flickering lights illuminated the snowy driveway. Sage hoped the rooms were warm and couldn't wait to have his head on a soft pillow.
The guards greeted other guards who had arrived earlier that day to make sure the building was safe and fit for a Prince. Sage didn't travel with many demands, all he asked for was that the fireplaces be safe to use and for there to be an abundance of teabags with milk.
He asked if he could help carry in some of the suitcases but was ushered inside by Taro's orders. He was sick and the wind was cold enough to steal his breath. Inside, the warm engulfed him like a hug from an old friend. He could smell what he hoped was hot food and switched his shoes for a black set of slippers, coated in warm wool.
He looked around, away from the open door. Distant memorise rushed back. Years had passed since he had visited the cottage. Now that he thought about it, their last visit had been when his grandfather was still King, and he was barely cared about by the public.
He stood by a large painting of his grandfather, marvelling how well it looked like him with his dark skin, grey curls and pointed beard, high cheekbones and confident black eyes, staring strongly back at him. Sage shivered and stood closer to the crackling fire.
"Your Royal Highness," a quiet voice said to his left. A maid bowed lowly and asked, "The cook wants to know if you would like some soup and hot bread after your long journey."
"I would love some, thank you so much for staying up until I got here. I apologise for the inconvenience of such a rushed visit. You can retire for the night, don't wait up until I go to bed, and tell the cook that too."
The maid bowed her head again, managing to look him in the eye before rushing out of the room. Sage sat at a large oak table centred in the middle of a small room, also lit by a fireplace and old lamps attached to every wall. A deer head stared at him from the opposite side of the room with antlers so large, they were just an inch shy of touching the ceiling.
A chandelier looked out of place in a small cosy cottage placed somewhere atop a hill. Maybe I should have rented out a place nearby, so I could really pretend I'm nobody.
Soup was given to him in a golden bowl with golden cutlery. Even the plate for the bread was fancy and expensive. Sage felt a fool, eating alone in the dead of night, with only ghosts and anxiety to keep him company, until someone knocked on the door and popped their head into the room.
"There you are," Taro said, and Sage's worries melted away. "Your things are in your room. I'll unpack them tomorrow."
"Thank you." Sage finished his soup with Taro watching him contently from the opposite side of the table. "What do you think of the cottage?"
"It's nice. I prefer it to the Palace."
Sage's eyes trailed the forest green walls and the old paintings of hillsides and churches with golden frames. "I do too." These days, he preferred anywhere that wasn't his home. "What do you like about it?"
"It's small, it's warm, and only my kind are guarding you and not the security who guard you only because they get paid. I feel safe here."
Sage was away from the public, and the paparazzi, and away from staff who would sell an ugly picture of him for some loose change. "I do too."
They smiled at one another; something in Taro's expression soothed Sage deeply. He stopped tensing his shoulders, stopped pressing his tongue to the top of his mouth, and stopped straining his jaw, feeling completely at peace with his decision to leave his other life behind for a while.
They moved upstairs where the warmth never dipped. The bedroom was much smaller than the one at home. A large double bed pressed against the back wall, facing a window that opened up onto a balcony so small, no chairs would fit. To the right, a warm fire crackled away, and to his left, a chest of drawers and a large cupboard filled the rest of the space. A bathroom was down the hall, and he had once shared it with his brother the last time they visited.
Taro rummaged through the luggage until he found Sage's black silk pyjamas. There was no changing wall, and Sage didn't feel like leaving the warmth to change in a cold bathroom. He stripped in the open, but Taro was respectful enough to face away.
Falling into bed was like a trip to heaven. Sage sank deep into a memory foam mattress. The duvet was thick and heavy and warmed as soon as it touched him. He pulled it to his chin as Taro sat on the bed beside him.
"Sleep now," was the last thing he heard before his dreams took over.
The morning was slow and peaceful. Sage slept until he woke naturally. The curtains were still drawn closed, and a new fire was quietly cracking by the side of the room. Taro still sat next to him on the side of the bed. "Please tell me you slept," Sage mumbled, stretching under the duvet.
"Oh, I did. I slept for ages. I thought I would die of dehydration when I woke," he chuckled.
"You worry me sometimes," Sage said, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "Have you had water?"
"Yes."
"Plant food?"
"Yes,"
"Are you warm enough? Was it too warm for you? Do drafts effect you because these are old windows."
"The temperature is fine."
"Did you remember to bring enough plant food? We can go to the village to get some more if not."
"Sagerian, everything is fine. We have the stuff we need, nobody is dying, your house is mostly run by the plant people, it's perfect."
Sage decided not to fret so much and dared to tiptoe to the bathroom in his pyjamas. No guard was outside his room, though he could see one at the end of the corridor. The bathroom was chilly and small. The white tiles were so cold, he shuffled from one foot to the other while he went to the toilet and brushed his teeth.
He hurried back and slipped straight under the duvet. The back of his eyes still dulled a heavy headache, though he was feeling better.
"Breakfast in bed for my Prince?" Taro asked, seemingly pleased that he was resting.
My prince. Sage's insides churned with an odd satisfaction because Taro had been looking at him differently. Sage would've liked to say that it was almost in a loving sort of way, but he didn't dare to think about it for too long in case the look went away. "That would be perfect," he said quietly. Taro's reply was a soft kiss between his brows. Sage hid a smile under the covers when he left, but he couldn't hide the gleam in eyes, and the doting haze forming around his heart.