Roots and Oxygen

Chapter 27 - Bizarre Normality

Travelling home was like journeying into the eye of the storm. The press had been camping outside the Palace, awaiting Prince Sage's return. They had littered all over the neatly cut grass, trampled the flowers, and hung their clothes over the golden Palace gates.

Five policemen and five guards of the Greenthenors had to bully the photographers away from the car as they tried to clear space to open the gate.

Taro sat with Sage in the back of a black car with blacked out windows. They could see out, but nobody could see in. "We should have gone around the back," a security guard muttered from the passenger seat. "Ram the fuckers."

The driver ignored him but beeped his horn until Sage was irritated. Taro had crossed his arms and sank into his chair. "Has it always been like this for you?" he asked.

"Not always." Sage savoured the memory of when he was younger and could smile and wave and be earnestly happy in the eye of the public.

"Prince Sage!" yelled one photographer as she threw herself at the side of the car. Sage jumped when she slammed her camera to the window. "Running from hardship suits you!" she shouted, obviously wanting a negative response.

Her camera flashed a thousand times, yet Sage stared ahead, not moving, not blinking. He only tensed his jaw and watched the gate wrench open.

Once they were gone from the crowd, and the familiar ivy-covered Palace fell into view, Sage stopped linking his fingers so tightly and sank into his chair too. He felt Taro's eyes on him until they pulled up outside the main entrance.

Sage's mother, his father, and his brother stood together in a neat line with even neater smiles. Sage had missed them when he had the chance to think about something other than his Valet being a plant man.

He got out of the car and was crushed against his father, who roughly patted his shoulders. "Glad to have you back!" he boomed. His blue eyes were bright and pleased. His pale skin was a little pink. Sage then felt a warm sun on the side of his face. The weather had been bitter in the north.

His mother was next to hug him. Her rose perfume was subtle and familiar as she pulled him close. "I hope you had a nice time."

Sage nodded and then looked at Oxley. Their hazel eyes clashed, and Oxley smirked, but unlike Taro, his smirk promised words that were anything but sweet. "It's a shame you've returned. I quite liked not having to wait for you every breakfast." Oxley patted Sage's shoulder. "Did you get sick of the ghosts?"

"I got sick of having nothing to do." Sage checked to see if his bags were being unloaded. Taro was already walking away with his suitcase, towards the servant's door.

Sage followed his family through the front door and had no choice but to sit with them for lunch. Sage really just wanted a bath in his own bathroom, and to seek out Mrs Beecham to quiz her on why she had lied to him. Sage knew he wouldn't be harsh. His gardener couldn't tell him the truth in fear of Sage losing what sanity he was still clinging too.

Now that he understood the plant's weird ways, he wanted her to know that he had discovered their little secret. Overall, Taro hadn't been as careful as he should have been, and Sage was so set on etiquettes and rules that he compelled Taro to show him the truth.

Finally, after two hours of telling his family about what he got up to at the castle, and of course, leaving out the part about Taro startling him with his transformation, he slipped away to find his gardener.

The courtyard was a calming sight. The flower beds would have usually been a sight for sore eyes, except now Sage was suspicious of them all. Every hedge, every herb, every flower, Sage stared warily. He weaved between them quickly and burst into the shed that sat atop a neat patio.