Roots and Oxygen

Chapter 8 - Valuable Grievances

Sage was so exhausted by bedtime that he almost fell asleep on the couch by his bedroom door. He was studying the carvings on his door, carvings of vines wrapping around in symmetrical patterns. Each leaf was lined with gold, but some were fading, most likely from the years of different Princes slumping against them with the relief of going to bed.

His eyes ripped open when his bedroom door opened. "Please knock next time," he mumbled, staring up at Taro Vinea. The Valet's blond hair was messy, and the top button of his shirt was undone.

"But you called for me on that buzzer thing."

"Doesn't matter. Always knock."

Taro shut the door behind him. Sage didn't move. He was slouching after a day of sitting up straight and keeping a polite face. Sage just wanted to scowl for no reason, simply because he could.

"Rough day?" Taro asked, hovering by the door. "Sir."

Sage's hazel eyes met green tired ones. "I could ask you the same. Did they have you rushed off your feet?"

Taro shrugged. "It's just been a while since I've had work. I'll get used to it."

Sage sat up, ruffled his curls and yawned. "Right," he said, getting to his feet and stretching his fingers. "Tomorrow I'm going to a funeral."

Taro frowned with Sage. His bright green eyes pointed to the dark wooden floor. "Sorry to hear that, Sir."

"It's important that I look the part. The press will be there and photographers, and the news. You'll probably know that I'm their favourite person to make look a fool. I need to look perfect, so they can't say that my hair is too frizzy or that my trousers are too wrinkled or too short." By now, Taro's gaze had risen again to Sage's face. "I should have called for you earlier, but I don't think my funeral suits need anything other than an iron."

For once, Taro didn't look immensely bored. "Show me the suits."

Sage turned towards the wall of built in cupboards. "Uh... I don't know where they are."

Taro searched and found them in the last cupboard on the left. Three black suits hung up in clear plastic bags. Taro took them all and laid them on the bed.

Sage pondered over all three before pointing to one with ruby buttons and silver lacing.

"No," Taro said bluntly. "It'll look like you're showing off your wealth." Sage stared at him. "You said the tabloids would do anything to make you look like an idiot. They'll criticise you for this." Taro studied the other two. One had silver buttons and faint silver lines through the material. The last suit had black buttons and a black silk inner. Taro Pointed to that one. "It's simple but still smart enough for a Prince."

"Okay." Sage touched the waistcoat underneath the jacket. "Thank you." He zipped it back up and hung it on the outside of the wardrobe.

Taro got Sage's pyjamas and hung them on his arm, waiting for Sage to undress, and Sage did so behind the changing wall. "Mister Vinea, my nightwear," he said after he had stripped.

He waited for him to hang the pyjamas over the wall or hand them over. Instead, Taro walked around the changing wall and handed him them, face to face. Sage would've snatched them out his hands to cover himself if he wasn't so stunned. "What on earth are you doing?"

"Giving you your nightwear."

Sage, with hot cheeks, grabbed his silk trousers and quickly put them on. "I meant pass them over the wall," he mumbled and took the shirt too.

"Oh." Taro stepped back but Sage was already buttoning up his pyjamas.

Sage still felt eyes on him, even when he walked through his room and entered his bathroom. Taro paused in the doorway. "Now would be a good time to ask what time I would like waking." Sage could see him in the mirror. Taro looked tired. "Wake me at seven thirty. Don't be late this time."