âIâll take you to your room. The hallways are too dark to walk alone because itâs already late.â
â. . . I may be younger than you, but Iâm not a little kid who canât find his room alone.â
âI know. Still, this mansion is my . . .â
Without realizing it, I said that naturally.
âBecause this is my home. Here.â
Now that I had said it, I felt half reluctant and half surprised.
When I turned my head so that I didnât look shocked when I was the one who said that, the stars that shone brightly entered my view through the window.
While I stopped for a while engrossed in the night sky, the prince suddenly talked.
âI donât think itâs a collection normally owned by a noble young lady.â
âI guess so. Thatâs right, this is not a collection that can be owned by a noble young lady.â
âIn addition, itâs not that pretty.â
I meekly nodded to the prince.
He somehow was wary of me while saying that, but because it was completely true, I had no reason to refute him.
âShovels are supposed to be used, so thereâs no need for them to be pretty.â
If it could fulfill its role, then that was enough.
I had already known about it, but I felt it again about the princeâs frank opinion.
His reaction was utterly normal, but there was no one inside this mansion who said âstrangeâ when they saw me holding a shovel.
Everyone naturally accepted it to the point I couldnât notice that it was strange if it wasnât for Danaâs nagging.
âEven if itâs not pretty, it can be useful.â
The prince, who was walking, asked as if he was curious with what I said.
âDo you also use it?â
âOf course.â
The conversation stopped again.
The prince looked confused as if he wanted to say something, but didnât know what to say.
I had no intention to make a reason or beautify it, so I waited until his confusion subsided.
â. . .â
The gaze of the prince who had been silent was directed somewhere.
I followed the princeâs gaze to the tailend edge of the hallway.
Between the pillars that met each other, I saw a blue sprout sprouting from the bulging soil under it.
âThereâs a sprout sprouting here.â
âBefore it gets bigger, someone will pull it out while cleaning anyway.â
The prince who said that calmly had his gaze stayed on the small sprout.
I walked past him, then stopped and bent my body, checking the sproutâs condition.
âThe sprout managed to germinate, but it seems like itâll be difficult for it to grow here. The soil for its nutrition is too little, and it will be hard for it to receive water as well.â
All directions were marble and on top of that, the pillars blocked the rain, so it wasnât a good place for plants to grow.
The prince mumbled.
âIt is because itâs born in the wrong place. Because itâs accidentally born, it is not given the right to live either.â
âTo say it has no right to live when itâs just begun to sprout is a bit cruel.â
âThatâs how the world works.â
The princeâs voice was gloomy.
The word I said in order to change the awkward atmosphere felt like pushing us into a more big dark abyss.
How scary the pubescent is.
The prince who commented âit has no right to liveâ while looking at the sprout with a very gloomy face, looked like he empathized with this sprout more than anyone.
I waved the shovel to the prince who was looking at the sprout with a pale face.
âThen we just need to move it to a place where it can grow well and have a lot of friends.â
When I shoveled it up to the bottom of the soil from which the bud came up, a small sprout was put on the shovel without injuring a single root.
The prince didnât let out any words, but he couldnât take his eyes off the sprout on the shovel.
âShall we move it to a small pot? Iâll put it in your room.â
âIâve never raised a plant.â
âYou just need to learn. I canât say itâs easy, but if you devote yourself, it will grow nicely without problem.â
Since it had a life force for it to sprout even in such a narrow and difficult place, wouldnât it grow well if it was taken care of a bit more?
Itâd be good if this could be a little help for the prince who was tortured by the room that was fully covered with yellow and pink.
While I asked a maid to bring me a small pot, the prince stood next to me without saying anything.
He pretended to be calm, but his gaze didnât leave the sprout even until it was moved to the pot.
* * *
âFrom now on, this kid is your responsibility, Your Highness.â
He looked at me in confusion.
Furrowing his eyebrows, he looked down to the sprout with a serious face then asked.
âAm I raising this?â
âYes.â
â. . .â
The prince was silent again.
A worry if I had planted a thought that his future would be the same like the sprout if it went wrong flashed.
Maybe I shouldnât have brought it.
âIf you donât want, then I-â
âCan I give this a name?â
âDo you want to?â
Was he being silent to think of its name?
The prince, who unexpectedly accepted my proposal easily, carefully held the pot with both hands and pulled it in front of his eyes to observe the sprout.
Actually, it was a weed that scattered in the garden, but since it was the first plant he raised, I could understand if it was special.
âI canât decide whether Florence or Matilda is better.â
âFlo-â
The prince who had been looking at the sprout, asked for my opinion seriously.
âFlorence means beautiful, but doesnât it also mean white? It will be a bit awkward if this sprout doesnât bloom white flowers, right?â
I never think about it that seriously, though, sir.
I indeed liked to raise plants and use farming tools, but since I had never given plants names, I didnât know what I should say to the princeâs sensibility.
Canât he just call it sprout?
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