Roots and Oxygen

Chapter 6 - Buttons of Exoticism

Sage didn't see his Valet in training until that evening. After a big dinner and a gathering of a few close family members who mournfully discussed Patrick's death, the Prince was finally able to escape. His Aunt, Cousin, and Grandmother planned to arrive tomorrow.

He was in for a busy week with the funeral and sad gatherings. Even a dull tension gloomed the palace walls. Patrick was murdered and nobody yet knew why or who had done it. Everyone was tense, not just the Royals.

Upon approaching his bedroom, one of his carved double doors was ajar, and Sage could hear only one male voice, but when he entered, two faces turned towards him. They both dressed in golden suits with golden blazers.

Osier stood up straight and bowed his head lowly. "Your Royal Highness." Osier eyed the blond man who watched with bored eyes.

Sage was getting used to seeing people jab Taro in the ribs to remind him that he stood in the presence of a Prince. His bows were always reluctant. "Royal Highness," he mumbled. His suit was a little too big. Taro was tall, but on the brink of lanky. Sage assumed Osier had thrown it on him in a panic. Sage hadn't given the Butler much time to prepare, so he didn't comment on it.

Osier's big round head reddened with embarrassment. "Don't worry Sir, we'll grind these etiquettes into Mister Vinea by the end of the week if he is to keep this job."

Taro's eyes pointed to Sage's wooden floors.

"I'm tired. Osier, would you like to show Mister Vinea what needs to be done in the evenings?" Sage asked.

"Of course, Sir."

Taro stood to the side as Osier received Sage's black silk pyjamas laced with silver. He took Sage's cufflinks, his waistcoat, his shirt and trousers and Sage disappeared behind a thin fabric changing wall, returning with his pyjamas on, but unbuttoned.

Sage watched Taro in the mirror as Osier showed him where to put Sage's clothes. "There's a loose button on one of my formal jeans," Sage said. "It'll be good practice for Mister Vinea. My buttons often need resewn."

"Certainly, Your Royal Highness." Osier practically shoved Taro to his wardrobe to find the jeans. "What time would you like to be woken in the morning, Sir?"

"Half past six, please. I'd like some tea and a bath before I dress tomorrow." Sage finished buttoning his bed shirt and turned to smile at Osier. "If Mister Vinea is to learn everything, I might as well be demanding."

"Indeed." Osier smiled with a curt nod of his fat head.

Sage, in all honesty, wanted to help Taro learn as quickly as possible. He didn't risk a scandal by giving him a week's trial for nothing. Sage wanted a younger Valet, so he had to work to get one.

Osier sent Taro away to take the jeans to the servant's quarters downstairs. He lingered by the door, awkwardly linking his stubby fingers and furrowing his bushy brows. Osier was an old man. He had served the Royals since he was old enough to do so.

"Sir, may I express my concerns about this trial week?"

Here we go. Sage faced him with a completely innocent expression. "What concerns might you have?"

"Well, Mister Vinea is rather... well, he has no idea what he is doing."

"He can learn."

Osier's brows pushed further together. "Sir, why? There are many other Valet's who will take no longer than a day or two to get used to the Palace, and where everything belongs. Taro Vinea simply thought he had to wake you and that was all."