Summary of the past month: Got Covid, felt pretty ill, fell behind with work, dramatically struggled to catch up with work, Microsoft word expired, couldn't afford to pay for it again, couldn't copy- edit- or save any of my work (I hate using any online versions due to DESGUSTANG wifi at home, realised you can pay for Word monthly, got it back again, caught up with writing, life is now in order.
Conclusion: Covid's fault.
- Sian
The bath was an award for getting away unnoticed. The pain from the fall was a punishment from doing something so reckless. Sage's shoulder was already bruising, and he hoped that was the only thing wrong with it. The rest of his body was just weak, yet slowly coming back to life as the warm water cradled him.
His face was wiped clean from any dry blood, and his wound was shut with adhesive strips and covered with a large white plaster. He was given some paracetamol and left alone with Taro Vinea to soak in peace. Sage's hazel eyes trailed the unfamiliar room. Katie's parents were people who valued their bath as it was the staple piece, sitting in the middle of the room. A small shower was in one corner, a toilet in the other, a sink in the other, and a door pressed up against the final corner. On the windowsill, a vase of white honeysuckle basked in the cold daylight.
"Do you think we'll be safe here?" he asked Taro who had an arm resting on the side of the bath.
"I hope so, after that journey." He smiled, and Sage relaxed. "We'll be safe for now, at least. I doubt anyone could follow us here. We're in the middle of nowhere and now we're snowed in."
"I have the worst headache."
"I'm not surprised."
"I can't believe I got buried like that. I lost all my energy on that journey." Sage rested his neck against the curve of the bath. The water slowly turned cold, but he didn't want to face people yet. "Only I would make a short journey so dramatic."
"Only you." Taro moved has hand towards the water. Sage lifted his own through the bubbles to link their fingers together.
"How did they know I was at the cottage? That photo was from the room where you fixed my clothes," Sage mumbled. "You don't think someone in the village recognised me, do you?"
"How could they? Only a small part of your face was visible." Taro frowned thoughtfully. "Whoever it was, they'll one day have the day they deserve for doing this to you."
"I can't believe they thought it was okay to publish a picture like that. How do they think this is okay?" Sage felt the tears pricking his eyes. He tried his best to swallow the lump forming at the back of his throat. "I feel like a coward for running."
"You're brave for running. You're such a famous person that if we can pull this off, people will talk about it for centuries."
"Or they can label me a coward and a traitor to the throne."
"They'll blame your family for that one day, you'll see." Taro squeezed his hand. "People will support you. Maybe it won't be as many as those who don't, but you don't need the entire world to love you."
I do have support. Sage could trust Taro, and the guards, and now Katie and her parents who were strangers, yet willing to keep him safe because they were good people. He stared at the vine tattoos on Taro's arm that poked out of his rolled-up sleeve. "What about your mum and your stepdad, have they tried to get in touch?"
"I sent them a text before we left the cottage. I'm yet to see if they've replied. I think they'll be leaving their home too. My mum's a private person, more so because of who we are. The paparazzi will soon find out that they're my parents though."
"Maybe you should tell them to come up here? Will they be safer with us?"
Taro gripped Sage's hand tighter. "I'll call them." As he stood, he left a warm kiss between Sage's brows. The feeling stayed as Sage sank in the bath and sat by himself. He looked around again, wondering what he could do to thank Katie and her parents. Simply saying thank you didn't feel like enough. Being grateful is far from enough.
Sage eventually got out of the bath when he began to shiver. His bag was by the door, and he rummaged for some clothes. In a stranger's bathroom, he put fresh clothes on, and he had never felt less like himself. He had never felt less like a Prince.
Opposite the bathroom, the guard who had helped Taro drag him through the snow straightened his back when Sage glanced in his direction. "Hello," Sage said gingerly.
"Hello, Your Royal Highness," he replied in a deep voice.
Sage spotted his green nails and wondered if he was one of the many rose plants who had travelled with them. "What's your name?"
"Agnes, Sir."
"Thank you for helping me through the snow, Agnes."
The guard locked their stare, and he bowed his head. "You're most welcome, Sir. Protecting you is not just a job for us, it's in our blood."
A shiver snaked down Sage's spine. He had a feeling that he didn't quite understand the full extent of his words. He smiled and turned to find the stairs. He failed at sneaking down them when each step creaked loudly under his feet.
Katie's mother popped her head out of the nearest doorway. Her eyes widened and she bowed lowly in front of him. "Your Royal Highness, how are you feeling? Do you need anything? Are you hungry? We have a fire lit in our living room. We can make space for you on the couch, or we can leave you to sit in peace if you'd prefer?"
And just like that, Sage felt like a Prince again. "Please, call me Sage. Don't make anyone move for me. A cushion on the floor by the fire will be enough." He entered the room, and everyone leapt to their feet. His Princely title weighed him down. He awkwardly weaved through the guards who all offered him a seat on the couch or in the armchair or in the rocking chair by the bookcase. Sage politely refused and sat on an orange tasselled cushion closest to the crackling fire.
The warmth was nice. He exhaled calmly and crossed his legs, taking a moment to watch the flames. But soon, the silence in the room was the only thing he could focus on. Everyone stared at him and lowered their gaze when he looked back.
The room soon felt uncomfortable. Sage could see that people wanted to speak yet were too anxious to speak in front of him. Sage linked his fingers, feeling the pain in his shoulder. Being a Prince required a skill in small talk and holding a conversation on even the most mundane topics.
"So," he said aloud, and everyone stopped nervously glancing around the room. "I think me faceplanting the snow would have sold for thousands. It's a shame nobody caught it on camera."
A few of the guards chuckled quietly, and everyone smiled. "Well, when you first fell," Bell said, shuffling to the end of the couch cushion, "I didn't know whether to laugh or shout at you for being so clumsy!" Everyone else glanced at Sage's reaction, holding their breath, wondering whether laughing was appropriate, or elbowing Bell to keep her thoughts to herself was better.
But Sage smiled and laughed softly, so others joined in. "I wasn't gifted with very steady feet."
"You can say that again," Carno grinned, wrapping an arm around Bell's waist, and pulling her closer. Sage tried not to stare at them, though his heart jolted with pride.
"What's the plan now?" a guard asked once the laughter died.
"I'm not sure. I haven't heard anything from the Palace, and that can only be a bad sign." Sage pursed his lips and squeezed his linked fingers together until they hurt. "Has anyone looked at the news to see what's being said?"
Everyone shook their heads to say no. "We can look for you, Sir," Bell said, smiling down at Sage from the couch.
"Later, we should all rest now. But can you look for any stories that might suggest I've gone missing when you do?"
"Yes." Her smile warped with sorrow.
Sage had no idea what was coming next. But at least he was safe and warm. He almost turned his attention back to the fire when he saw movement by the door. Taro appeared with the calmest expression he had worn all day. He made a motion with his head that told Sage to follow him.
As soon as he stood up, the rest of the room jumped to their feet too and bowed. Sage felt a little embarrassed. Usually, he never noticed because people had done that to him his entire life. Things felt a little different now, especially when his future was balancing on a withering thread.
"Did they answer?" he asked Taro quietly, standing in the hallways underneath the staircase.
Taro nodded. "My mum was most surprised that you're choosing to date me." Taro shook his head with a smile. "A bit insulting, I know."
Sage mirrored his smile. "That we're dating, huh?"
"Yes," Taro replied softly, flicking green eyes to his lips. "That we're dating."
Sage felt his cheeks getting warmer. "Why were they surprised that I chose you?"
"Because they know how annoying I can be . . . and how I don't really care for your rules and traditions. They thought I'd get fired within like the first few days of working for you."
"Well, you almost did." Sage chewed his bottom lip when Taro's hands gripped his waist.
"She doesn't have to know that." Taro stood close enough for their chests to touch, and their breaths to share the same space.
"Is your mum and stepdad coming here?"
Taro nodded again. "Mrs Beecham is driving them."
Sage's heart fluttered. What would she think of me? Would she treat me differently?
"It's okay," Taro added. "I know it doesn't seem like it right now, but it will be okay eventually."
Sage leant into him and allowed Taro's arms to wrap around his back. They held each other for a long cherishing moment. He closed his eyes with his lips to Taro's shoulder and deeply inhaled his scent of the cold beyond the stone house walls, firewood, and musk sticking to his clothing.
"I want to phone my parents, but I'm worried they'll somehow track the phone I use," Sage muffled. "I want to phone Oxley, though I'm terrified of his reaction."
Someone suddenly walked down the corridor towards the kitchen, and Sage's heart leapt up his throat. He tried to yank away from Taro, but he held on tightly. "It's okay," Taro whispered. "You don't have to hide who you are anymore."
The realisation washed over him so fiercely, Sage wanted to cry with relief. He slowly settled against Taro again, despite hearing someone flicking a kettle on and clanking cups on a countertop. People were near and could see them at any moment. But now, they all knew, and were happy for him.
Imagine that . . . strangers are happier for me than my own family. Sage hugged Taro a little tighter. Nobody cares. At least, not those inside the farm.