The Prince and the Gardener

By Enyale Frost

hat are you looking at?” jumps out of his skin. He spins on his heels tearing his gaze away from that beautiful man tending to the garden just outside his window to find Maggie behind him, her arms folded.

“Oh, it’s you,” Howard gripes.

“Excuse me. That’s not a very nice tone to use with your advisor. I could ditch you and find another job elsewhere. Maybe the country of Alvenna would take me in.”

Howard wilts at the threat. For a prince, he’s not got much of a backbone. “I’m sorry.”

Maggie pushes her spectacles up the bridge of her nose. “Anyway, you’ve got paperwork to attend to. What are you ” She narrows her eyes. “Are you staring at the gardener boy again?”

“What? No!” Howard cries, perhaps louder than he expected. “I’m just…” He shrinks back under Maggie’s piercing gaze. “You’re right. I’m staring at the pretty gardener boy.”

“When is this phase going to pass?” Maggie sighs. “This crush of yours has gone on long enough. You know that Princess Shelby is arriving next week, right?”

“I know,” Howard whines, using that high-pitched voice that he knows Maggie can’t stand. “But he’s right there! Looking all pretty and lovely, and ”

“You are a right mess, you are,” Maggie huffs. She shakes her head, before turning to step out of the room. “Head over heels for a man you’ve never even spoken to.”

Howard pouts like a petulant child. “I have, though.”

“Other than formalities?”

At Howard’s silence, Maggie smirks, tells him to get a hold of himself before attending to his duties. She leaves and shuts the door behind him, leaving Howard to deal with the gay panic brewing in his chest.

Perhaps his parents will relent if he shows them how much happier he’d be with this gardener boy than a random princess. After all, they’ve always talked about how they want Howard to be happy. This should fall into that category too.

That means that Howard must pluck up his courage and initiate a conversation with the gardener and get to know him, because the only thing he knows of the gardener is that his name is Joseph. And it’s only because he demanded it from Maggie.

Howard may not be the most extroverted person on the planet, but never before has a cat gotten his tongue this bad. Here his dumbstruck self stands, in the blazing sun, holding the gaze of the most beautiful man to exist on Mother Earth.

Sandy blond hair tucked under a straw sunhat, curious eyes staring into his, one hand holding onto a trowel, and the other, what looks to be a bush of roses against his slightly plump body.

“Your Highness, are you doing all right? You’re a little red in the face.”

“N-No, I’m perfectly fine,” Howard insists, having found his voice after what felt like an eternity. “How are you, uh, doing today, Sc I mean, sir?”

Joseph blinks, maybe because he isn’t too used to the prince calling him sir. Howard can’t blame him; he panicked. “I’m doing good today, Your Highness. I’ve trimmed the bushes, the hedges, and I’m now planting the roses. Oh, I’ve also tidied the orchids by the fountain.”

“That’s good,” Howard says, because he knows next to nothing about gardening. He knows what bushes are, and what trimming is, but orchids… “So... could I ask your name?”

Even though he already knows it, but it’s probably less creepy than just announcing the gardener’s name back to him.

“I don’t know why Your Highness would like to know the name of a lowly servant like myself,” Joseph says, “but I am Joseph of Gosmia.”

Gosmia is a small town not far from the capital, known for their dyes and their houses being an amalgamation of technicolour blends. Howard himself has never been there too busy with his princely duties but he wishes to visit one day.

With this new piece of information, his desire to see this town, where the object of his affection hailed from, has grown much stronger.

“And I’m Howard. Uh… prince of the Lovenrell kingdom,” Howard says, and Joseph chuckles.

“I know. I think everyone does.”

Howard flushes, and he silently berates himself. Curse Joseph and his adorable face, that cute laugh, and… just everything about him. “Well, uh… what made you want to come to Lovenrell, Joseph?”

“I was looking for work that didn’t involve… dyes,” Joseph says, nose scrunched almost imperceptibly. “I always liked gardening, and well, one of your men scouted me. Said the royal family needed a gardener, so that’s why I’m here.”

“I see. So, our gardener is from humble beginnings.”

Howard could be wrong, could be hoping too hard, but he swears that he just saw Joseph blush. A faint red tinge on his cheeks. “I suppose.”

“Well, uh… how was your family like ”

“Forgive me for interrupting, Your Highness, but I would advise that we move to a gazebo to continue this conversation,” Joseph says, his brows furrowed. “If we were to carry on, you would no doubt suffer a heatstroke.”

Howard isn’t even aware of how much he was sweating under the heat of the sun. Now that Joseph mentions it, he realises that his tunic is completely soaked. Beads of sweat roll down his cheeks, and Howard pretends not to care about how uncomfortable he feels.

With a cough, Howard declares, “Yes, let’s go, then. Lead the way, Joseph.”

“Follow me, Your Highness,” Joseph says, his eyes twinkling, and Howard has to hold himself back from swooning.

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