The First Prince had turned ten, and today too, he walked through the palace gardens.
"This is called a Snow Crystal Flower..."
He had always been a composed child, speaking with better bearing than even my own apprentice, but today his demeanor was different from usual.
The First Prince was raising his voice with a child's lively exuberance.
"Ah, Brother, a butterfly!"
"On your head, there's a butterfly!"
When a butterfly landed upon the Second Prince's indigo hair, the twin princes cried out in delight. However, perhaps because he was poor with insects, the Second Prince scrunched up his young face and froze solid.
We gardeners held positions no different from servants, unable to directly address them. The only reason my apprentice had survived doing so before was solely due to the gentle nature of the First Prince. Even now, I could only stop my work and watch from atop the ladder.
Yes, I had merely climbed up to even out the height of the garden trees, that's all. It wasn't as if I had ascended specially because I heard voices. Not at all.
"Ah, hahaha. Terry still isn't used to bugs, is he?"
The First Prince laughed aloud... Though I had seen his face for several years, this was the first time.
Waving his hand gently, the First Prince chased away the butterfly. Seeing this, the twin princes expressed their disappointment.
"The lifespan of insects is very short. That butterfly probably won't even live a month. If it wishes to rest, I think we should allow it."
"Short... lifespan?"
"We can't catch it?"
The First Prince gently admonished the young twins. Good grief, I wished the noble managing these gardens could witness this. With behavior like this, how could anyone shamelessly shout rumors about the First Prince bullying his brothers? Much less speak of assassination.
"Um, Brother. What do you mean by 'still not used to it'?"
The Second Prince asked with a stiffness absent in the two below.
"Ah, you were only three at the time, so you might not remember, Terry. When we met before, you were startled by a bug that flew out from a flower and cried."
"...This is the first I've heard of it."
The Second Prince's expression grew even more rigid. Surely the rumors about the First Prince had reached his ears as well—that he had been bullied and made to cry.
"But now that you mention it, I have a memory of touching a flower like this..."
When the Second Prince cupped his hands as if holding something, the First Prince explained he had been looking at a glowing flower. Because it was bright, the child had apparently covered it with his hands to make it dark.
"A glowing flower?"
"I want to see!"
When the twins begged, the First Prince smiled and shook his head.
"This season, the flowers have finished blooming."
"What do you mean the flowers are finished?"
"Brother, what does that mean?"
As a gardener, I understood—indeed, they had finished blooming. Only leaves remained, and they had already been replanted with the next flowers.
"Let's see... Ah, I'm certain the moving flowers should be blooming now. Shall we go see those instead?"
At the First Prince's suggestion, the twins immediately shifted their interest and rejoiced. Indeed, in this season, the moving flowers still bore blooms after replanting. They were flowers with the habit of wrapping around nectar-seeking insects to ensure pollination, closing when touched. Children would surely delight in them.
"Plants are living things too. They bloom flowers and spread leaves because they need to."
Holding the hands of his impatient younger brothers who tried to run ahead, the First Prince spoke gently.
"That too?"
"This too?"
"That's right."
While responding to his brothers, the First Prince continued his explanation. The Second Prince, following behind, called out with a hesitant air.
"Brother, you are remarkably knowledgeable about plants."
To us gardeners it was basic knowledge, but from a child's perspective, perhaps he seemed knowledgeable. However, thinking on it, we had never particularly taught such things to the First Prince.
The First Prince turned back and smiled like a child.
"Actually, I studied so I could tell you more about the gardens the next time we met, Terry. The Imperial Library has illustrated records of the plants grown here. If you're interested, you should look at them—they have colored drawings, so they're easy to understand."
I could bear it no longer and climbed down the ladder, rubbing my clouded vision.
"What's wrong, Master? Can I climb up and watch the princes too?"
Since my apprentice who had been supporting the ladder below begged me, I reluctantly switched places to hold it for him. Taking a breath and looking around, I saw fellow gardeners descending their ladders as well. Among them were those sniffling, those nodding repeatedly—far too easy to read. Well, I could hardly talk about others.
"He's really acting like a big brother, isn't he, the First Prince?"
My apprentice descended immediately, beaming from ear to ear. It seemed the princes had moved out of sight. Even so, he must have witnessed how the First Prince held their hands while talking, keeping careful watch over them.
"Also, what's with the Second Prince following behind like that? Is he still suspecting assassination or something?"
"I don't think it seemed like that?"
He had been responding, and the First Prince treated him no differently than the twins.
"Besides, the ones suspecting assassination are behind him."
At my observation, my apprentice honestly furrowed his brow. The other gardeners nodded as well. Behind the close brothers were adults following with sour faces. One was the familiar guard of the First Prince, but there were others in matching uniforms—guards of the princes—and attendants and maids holding drinks and towels, all trailing along.
"No one stepped in front of that sea-folk guard, but they had nasty looks in their eyes, didn't they?"
"They're suspecting the First Prince. That's why they were restless when he chased the butterfly from the Second Prince's head, and flustered when the twins held hands."
"Huh? Not even letting them do that when they're brothers? The bigwigs don't get it. Wouldn't it be better for the children to get along?"
My apprentice is honest. I have to scold him sometimes, but he's straightforward and good-natured. Yet he too had initially shouted that the First Prince might do something, and I was the same.
"They'll understand eventually. That the First Prince neither bullies others nor plots assassinations. That the eyes of those who suspect him are the ones that are clouded."
"...Will they realize? The administrator still says the First Prince is a villain, doesn't he? And about the Fourth Prince, he won't listen to whatever we say."
The administrator my apprentice spoke of was one whose relative had resigned many years ago. He blamed the First Prince, but it was nothing but prejudice. The incident with the twin princes had begun when they wandered off while the adults weren't watching, and everyone had gone to search. In the empty arbor, the First Prince had found and protected the twins, taking them with him. There, the sickly Fourth Prince had collapsed.
In other words, it had been the same with the Second Prince. The First Prince had found the lost child and attended to him, but when the child cried, startled by a bug, adults with clouded eyes appeared.
"If they compared the movements of those who searched but couldn't find them with the places the First Prince always passes, they should be able to imagine he found the lost child on his way to us."
It seemed my apprentice had developed a grudge against the administrator. I'd have to warn him firmly not to let it show. His skills weren't bad, so I had to correct that tendency to speak before thinking. Well, that aside, I fully agreed with my apprentice regarding this matter.
"It's about nobles and such. We cannot voice our opinions anyway. ...But when asked, we should have words to answer. There is no need to hesitate in correcting mistakes."
When rumors spread of an attempted assassination of the Fourth Prince, high-ranking nobles had ordered us to tell them what we knew. So we spoke—that the First Prince was innocent. Immediately, orders came from above not to spread uncertain information. We understood there were ill intentions at play, but we lacked the power to resist. Yet the heart that knows this is too much to do to a child cannot be forced. If ensuring no more foolish incidents occur in the gardens means keeping our eyes sharp, then that too is part of our duty.
Being able to witness such princes makes the work worthwhile.
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