Roots and Oxygen

Chapter 5 - Improper Trials

Sage had been raised to judge on appearance. Everything mattered, from the clothes they wore, to their hair, down to the length of their fingernails. Sage couldn't help himself as he judge Taro Vinea. He wasn't dressed for the role, and he didn't look smart enough either.

His blond hair was messy, and he often had to brush it out of his bright green eyes that were lazily roaming all over Sage as though he was a dirty cat sitting on the side of the street. Taro's jumper had a few loose threads, and his nails matched the colour of his eyes.

Sage judged him hard and already prepared to turn him down until he remembered about the plant. "Oh shit," he said aloud. Mrs Beecham and Taro looked at him with surprise. Sage quickly cleared his throat. "I forgot to water the plant this morning."

Taro turned to Mrs Beecham who waved it off. "It'll be okay just this once. You said it was doing well."

"It is." Sage frowned when he thought about it moving places during the night. Taro's eyes returned to him and he decided not to fret in front of a stranger. Sage should not have been anywhere near the interview. What if Taro had a recorder or a secret camera, or planned to run to the papers about him?

Sage then met Mrs Beecham's gaze. He trusted her enough to give him someone who he could also trust. He motioned for Taro to sit and he pulled out a stool. He allowed Mrs Beecham to sit quietly in the back and started his completely improvised interview. "So, Mister Vinea, how old are you?"

"Twenty-three."

"Sir," the gardener hissed, anxiously picking apart the ends of her ginger curls.

"I'm twenty-three, sir," Taro repeated blankly.

"Why are you applying for the valet role?" Sage was annoyed by Taro's tone. "It's clear you have no experience." Judging by your lack of respect for a Prince.

"He has been out of work for so long-"

Sage shot Mrs Beecham a look of warning and she closed her mouth. "Forgive me for being blunt, but this is Taro Vinea's interview."

The gardener nodded her head and sank in her stool. Sage had a feeling that Mrs Beecham wanted him to get the job more than Taro.

"I need the work," Taro said with a small permanent frown. "Sir."

"What are your previous jobs? Have you ever worked for Royals?"

"I've had a few assistant jobs in shops, one was shadowing a tailor, so I know a bit about mending clothes and dressing the rich, Sir."

That's something, at least. Sage linked his fingers. "It's not an easy job. I have much more qualified men who will jump at the chance of an interview. Your incompetence would be highly inconvenient to me."

Mrs Beecham stared worryingly at the back of Taro's head. The blond man sensed it and sat up a little straighter. "I'm eager and can prove that to you by starting as soon as you need me. I'm a fast learner and to be honest, I heard you were looking for someone younger. Those qualified are at least over forty . . . Sir."

Sage raised a dark brow. Taro spoke very unprofessionally, but he had a point. He was only three years older than Sage, but that would also raise questions among the staff. "If you get this role-" Sage lifted a hand when Taro opened his mouth to speak. "I said if you get this role, questions will be asked about why someone so inexperienced got it." Sage now spoke to Mrs Beecham. "Special cases always cause tension among the staff."

"That is true. I admit, I haven't thought that far ahead," she confessed.

Sage really didn't want another elderly man making small talk as he struggled to button up Sage's waistcoats, but was it unfair to give Taro a chance just because he was young? The answer was yes, highly unfair, but Sage had to be selfish for his own sanity. He didn't want another bland member of staff who he had to tolerate because they were qualified for the job.