Page 8 of The Prince and the Double Shot
PHIL
“What’s wrong with you, little one?” I bent down over the fern and touched the browning leaves. I waited and slowly sat down on the ground before it.
Plants don’t talk – not in the way that humans do. But they communicate. Their roots speak to each other. The leaves and branches, the stems and flowers, all have a way of speaking if you just have the patience to listen.
It’s been a gift in my family for generations. Our ability to nurture and speak to the plants. We don’t just have green thumbs, we have green souls. With our abilities, we can not only talk to the Earth’s plants, but we can also control them. With that gift comes a lot of responsibility. If we push the plant too hard, we can kill it. But if we needed to, we could throw an acorn on the ground and have a massive tree in a matter of minutes. It wouldn’t last – but it could be a barrier when necessary.
Not all of the Tranquilles had the gift to speak to the earth. We were a rarity that usually passed down through the generations of the families who were growers or nurturers. My family’s gift was one of the strongest. During our war with the Kingdom of the Mountain, it was our gifts that saved us. Once, the Mantagnes and Tranquilles were of the same people andthe same kingdom. But, many years ago, there was a rift in my family that drove a wedge into the heart of our homeland. The Montagnes ascended into the mountains and followed Lionel, the former prince of Grandir, as far up as the eye could see into the mist that surrounded the Brumeuxs. His younger brother, Louis, stayed and became the crown prince of Grandir.
My family was split, and this was many generations ago. This happened over six hundred years before I was born. Lionel led his followers away, and the Tranquilles and the Kingdom of Grandir didn’t hear from them for almost two centuries. What the rift was about, no one truly knows. That knowledge has been lost over the generations.
When they next appeared, they were warlike and wanted the valley kingdom for themselves. It was our ability to communicate and to grow that stopped them. We had dominion over the things that grew, but they also had a gift. Some of them could manipulate the Earth itself. Earthquakes shook my homeland, and many died on both sides as the war raged for almost five years. Finally, with the Treaty of 1750, the war came to an end with neither side emerging victorious. It was a hard time of rebuilding for my people. But they have never forgotten. The valley and mountain live in a tense truce, and neither kingdom trusts the other. It is still tense to this very day.
It's silly to me. It was almost three hundred years ago that the war came to an end. Humans are a strange beast. Plants fight for the sun, and sometimes one has to die for the other to live. That’s the way of the Earth. The daisies don’t hold a grudge against the fern for smothering them. They spread and grow somewhere else. It’s an ever-moving dance, and… Humanity is very different. What would…
“Ah… There you are, little one. You are drowning. Your roots are wet and never healing, aren’t they?” I examined the land and noticed that the slope was causing the water to accumulate andsettle in this spot. Ferns liked water, but no plant needed this much. It rained a lot here. “How about I move you up just a bit?”
I took out my trowel and dug gently into the soil, reaching out with my energy to fuel the small browning fella as I slowly and carefully dug him out of the ground. I cradled his roots and set him down gently, then dug a hole and nestled him back into his soil bed. I patted the ground around him.
His thin stem reached up and wrapped around my arm. A thank you. This was better for him. The ground was drier, and his roots would heal. I gave him a little extra energy and could feel him absorb it. His leaves flexed, and his spongy appendages waved in the light breeze. It was a sunny day. He would grow and thrive here.
“You’re welcome, little one. Grow and flourish.”
I stood up and looked around at the rest of the large bed. It could use some color. Whoever planted this made it a bed of greenery, and a few flowering perennials would look great here.
“Looks nice.”
I flinched before I turned towards the sound of the voice. Someone had snuck up on me.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m Zane,” he nodded. “I work here too.”
I stared at him, dumbfounded. Jesus Christ… He bore a striking resemblance to Petra in too many ways. Red curls and the face of a fucking angel. You could cut yourself on his jawline. His biceps threatened to tear the tight sleeves of his t-shirt. He was… My God, he could be Petra’s brother.
He chuckled. “And you are?” His deep voice cut through the air.
“Oh, sorry, I’m… You startled me.” I managed to compose myself enough to actually fucking speak. “I’m Phil, the new gardener.”
“Yeah, I was told that we had a new hire. It’s nice to meet you.” His grin made my knees shake.
“Same,” I started to turn back to my work. I really needed to look at anything but him. It felt like a betrayal.
“I work in the coffee shop. You should stop by tomorrow and let me make you something. It’ll be on me. A welcome to the hotel drink.”
“Maybe, I… I have a lot of work to do.” I was definitely not doing that. I loved coffee, but I could make it myself in my room. I didn’t need to stare at him to get it.
“Or we could have a drink in the bar after work if you want. It could be more fun.”
“Oh, I… I’ll probably just go back to my room.”
“Are you like seventy with really good work? Who’s your doctor? My grandma really needs an eye lift.”
“What?” I think this man likes the sound of his own voice too much.
“Well, you’re acting like an old man, so… Come on. Work with me here. I’m trying. A drink is all I'm asking. We can talk.”
“Aren’t we doing that now?” I huffed and tried to look anywhere else but at him. But the way he stared at me… I was frozen in place.
“It feels a little one-sided if you want to know the truth. Phil?” he sighed. “Meet me in the bar tomorrow, and we can get to know each other a little bit. We could all use a friend, right?” God, he sounded so sincere all of a sudden. But I had learned that when you’re a prince, sincerity usually covered up the dirty truth of what someone actually wanted. But he didn’t know me. He had no idea who I was.
