Roots and Oxygen

Chapter 17 - Invasive Desires

The first day at the Castle, Sage didn't leave his room. The next morning, he joined his family for breakfast, and they told him that they were going back to the Palace, but he had to stay behind.

Taro Vinea and Joral Hodeer, his father's Valet, served them. The Royal's quick departure in the middle of the night left no time for other servants to join them. The Valet's stood by opposite walls, waiting and watching for any commands.

Sage's eyes kept flicking to his Valet who tried to lean against the wall.

"Your safety is our main priority," Haliver said with eyes only for his steaming porridge with honey and sliced strawberries. "You'll stay here to give that head of yours some peace from the tabloids. As far as I'm concerned, this is their fault. They focus on you too much. We need to get you out of the public eye."

Sage filled his mouth with toast, so he didn't have to stare around the room awkwardly. He hoped there would be a day where he could proudly tell the world who he was, and not care about what others had to say. But right now, as he sat with his family in an unfamiliar place after fleeing the safety of his own home, Sage didn't feel proud of anything.

"How do you propose we do that?" Oxley asked with an arm around his own chair and an unbroken egg on his plate. "Sage wears brown shoes, the tabloids suddenly hate brown shoes, Sage gets muddy in his own garden, the tabloids have leaked pictures the next day, Sage flees the Palace because someone is threatening his life, the tabloids will no doubt call him a weak future king." Oxley's voice had risen as he spoke, and a frown creased between his brows. "We can't just let them shit all over him like this. Something must be done."

Sage expected Oxley to have something to say, though he didn't expect him to sound so angered. "Is there even anything that can be done?" he asked calmly. "I'm sure if we tried, they'd scream about freedom of the press."

"Then we need to set them up. They're now too clever on how they word their headlines after what you did to them, Sage. But I think you need to take them down again. Sue them for every corrupt penny they're worth, then give it to all the charities they hate. We are the Royal family; we have this power." Haliver had a dangerous twinkle in his eyes, the one he got with little sleep and a stressed mind.

The Queen had said nothing, only nibbled on fruit. Sage felt her eyes on him every time he shifted on his chair. He also felt eyes on him from across the room and avoided Taro's face.

"Can we focus on replacing the staff at Pothos Palace who are not loyal to the Greens?" Sage asked, wanting to slump in his chair with a pouted lip. His mother would comment on his posture immediately if he dared.

"Absolutely. That can be a start to this mess."

The rest of breakfast was awkward. Sage felt his parents calculating every word they spoke as if he was some fragile doll that teetered on the edge of a high shelf.

When it was time for them to leave, Sage sat on the marble steps by the front entrance. He watched their cars weave through the country lanes until he could no longer see them, and no longer hear their engines.

Instead of going back inside the building, he walked around its stone walls and ventured to a bench on the outskirts of its grounds. Two bodyguards followed, but they were good at keeping their distance, so Sage didn't feel suffocated.

He moped for a while, stared solemnly at the ground for a while, sighed heavily at least twenty times, and forgot to go back in time for lunch.

Taro Vinea greeted him when Sage's stomach growled with hunger. "Wow," Taro said, pausing a few metres from the bench. "There's no difference between you and that sad sky over there."