Roots and Oxygen

Chapter 4 - Conspicuous Plant

Sage did as he was asked with the plant. He watered it every four hours and gave it plant food mixed with water every eight hours. Sometimes he forgot to rotate the plant, but when he arrived at his bedroom after dinner, he noticed that the plant was doing miraculously well.

He sat next to it on the bed, gently turning the dark purple pot. The vines were inches longer and three new leaves had sprouted over the past few days. Sage touched each leaf as if he thought they were fake.

Each leaf responded to his touch by opening out. Sage smiled. "Strange," he mumbled. He got the watering can from the windowsill and the soil soaked it up like he hadn't watered it only four hours ago.

He checked the top of the roots. They were no longer rotting. "Mrs Beecham will be happy you're doing well." He touched the leaves again. They were smooth and healthy with flecks of light green through the centre.

Sage decided to stop prodding the plant and lounged around in his room until the evening. His Valet usually entered at nine if Sage was already in his quarters, but he still didn't have one. He got himself changed and threw his clothes by the washing basket.

He washed his face and brushed his teeth in his grand bathroom- almost as big as his bedroom. Everything was laced with gold, from his doors, to his floors, his sink, mirrors, tiles and even the blurred window. The chandelier had one hundred gem drops. Sage loved the lavishness, but most days it was wasted on his eyes. He paid it no more attention than he would a single raindrop in a storm.

His bath was round and indented into the floor. Sage guessed it could fit at least five people, but he hoped one day it would be shared with a significant other.

His days were full of roaming the palace, now that his uncle had been murdered and they still hadn't found the killer. Sage's Royal engagements had been postponed. He couldn't complain, he enjoyed the free time, though it was more time around his parents, and more time alone thinking about how he would tell them that his significant other would be a man.

On his way to the bed, he paused when he thought the plant was moving. His hazel eyes stared hard in the dim light. His fire was burning opposite his bed, and the flames made odd shadows, so he shrugged it off.

He took the pot from the bedside table and put it on his desk. Sage sat and stared at it. The plant entranced him, and not because it was the only house plant he had looked after. The Devil's Ivy was unlike anything he had ever seen. The vines were starting to develop a light green twisting pattern that branched out into each heart-shaped leaf. It moved when he touched it, and required more care than a human child.

Sage had tried to search about ivy that demanded so much attention. He found nothing. The plant was needy, and weird, but beautiful. The green on the outside of its leaves were deep and strong in colour. The way it grew so fast was almost magical.

He left it on the desk and went to bed, falling asleep fast, only to be woken four hours later by the alarm on his phone. Sage switched it off and turned over in his silk sheets. He laid still for a moment until he remembered why his alarm was waking him so early.

The plant.

Sage jumped out of bed and grabbed the watering can he left by the window. He sluggishly dragged himself to his desk and almost watered the wood. Sage paused. The plant wasn't where he left it. In his tired confusion, he spun, squinting in the dark until he saw it on the bedside table next to his bed. He scratched the back of his head. He didn't remember leaving it there.

Regardless, the plant needed its water. The leaves stretched out when Sage splashed water on them, and he frowned at it the entire time. He had been dreaming about the plant, and about how the leaves reacted to his touch. Again, he shrugged it off, too tired to concern himself with it.