?—244
He loves the feel of dirt. He likes how even on the hottest day of the year, if he digs deep enough, the earth is cool and moist. It's dark and heavenly and smells indescribable. He kicks off his shoes and throws his socks somewhere to the left of the gardens. Hesitantly, he slides his toes through the earth. He sighs very quietly and buries his feet a bit more. For a little second he feels like a plant himself, trying to anchor his roots in the ground.
He sits, uncaring of the dirt, a content smile on his face among the begonias and roses. Time passes and he notices how quiet it is in the gardens. The sounds of the castle are gone and all he can hear is nature. Birds twitter in the trees and a bee looking for pollen flies near. A light breeze blows through the leaves and stirs the flowers, increasing their pleasant smell. He wriggles his toes again and feels sleepy and more peaceful than he can remember. But he knows he has his duty to the palace gardens, and so he takes a small look around, committing the scene to memory, and removes his feet from the ground. His legs feel heavy and he likes to think that earth wishes for his company longer. He stands slowly and kicks the dirt to smooth over his mess and wanders off to find his socks, still heavy with peace.