Demon King's Gardener

After that night, things finally seemed to settle since Braelin’s appointment. They fell into an easy routine - Jurao started rising earlier to train before breakfast. By the time he’d returned and gotten ready for the meal, Braelin roused. They went to breakfast, then the King escorted Braelin to the gardens before going to his office to tend to his own duties. Jurao would go to the gardens for the midday meal with Braelin, and they would speak about whatever came to mind.

Afterward, the King would return to his office to wrap up any leftover work. When the time came, he would get Braelin for the evening meal. Braelin started joining Jurao in his office afterward - doing his research and compiling notes there since making so many walks to the gardens was time-consuming. The arrangement seemed to suit them both even after Vajur’s temper cooled to more of a simmer - which only took a week. Especially since Jurao kept his partner from staying up late anymore.

As before, the evening consisted of playing Ascension with Feyl before retiring to sleep. There wasn’t a significant shift in their relationship, as far as Jurao could tell - other than more kissing and casual physical intimacy, anyway. He was content with that - or rather, he felt their relationship was exactly what it needed to be for now.

As predicted, it took Minaz two weeks to return from the Human Realm - and Jurao was at the front of the castle to greet her.

“Jurao!” Exka, his General, jumped out of the carriage first and ran into him for a hug.

“Ah, Exka,” Jurao said, accepting - while he disliked most physical contact, he and Exka had known each other since they were kids, so he didn’t mind from her. He asked, “Have you been well since the return.”

“I’ve been great!” Exka grinned, pulling back, “I can’t wait for one of the Champions to finally show up so I can see how I measure up to the Unbreakable Wall!”

The Demon King snorted at his nickname from his time as General and said, “I’m glad.”

“You should be,” Minaz snorted as well, jumping down from the carriage. She stepped aside and held out an arm, “May I present the former princess and prince of Jost, Ayelma and Meir’ril Ealdwine - and the former royal gardener, Owren Laely.”

The first out of the carriage after her was an elf-human woman with brown skin and leopard-like spots framing her face. She brushed her long, straight brown-black hair back from her face before immediately asking, “Is Braelin really here?”

“Aya,” a young elf-human man stepped down from the carriage after her. His hair was cut around his chin, and he looked at Jurao nervously before putting a hand on his sister’s shoulder, “That’s the Demon King, you know?”

“So?” Ayelma replied, pouting, “They didn’t bow or anything…”

“They’re high-ranking members of his court,” Meir’ril replied nervously, “We’re not even actually royalty anymore!”

“It’s fine,” Jurao replied, inclining his head, “Nice to meet you - and yes, Braelin is here. I wasn’t sure how successful Minaz would be, so he’s currently in the gardens.”

The Demon King had no doubt these were the twins - they were exactly how Braelin described them. The fearless, straightforward, and occasionally too bold Ayelma and the more reserved and cautious Meir’ril.

“Well, where else would he be,” an older white human man with short gray hair muttered, the last to exit the carriage. He put a wooden cane down first, leaning into it as he stepped down, “Single-minded brat…”

Well, they’re alike in volume, Jurao reflected. This, too, aligned with the mental image Braelin had painted of his uncle - the quiet and grumpy part, at least.

“And Hujur will be pleased we found the glass statue, too!” Exka grinned, taking a trunk down from the back of the carriage.

“Can we go now?” Ayelma asked, bouncing in place, “It’s already been so long!”

“Of course,” Jurao replied, turning to lead the way through the castle, “Braelin’s anxious to see all of you, as well.”

“Yes!” Ayelma cheered, jogging to keep pace with the King and asking, “Do you really have a crush on him?”

“Aya!” Meir’ril caught up, pulling his sister back, “Don’t just ask people stuff like that…”

“Actually,” Jurao chuckled, “I’m currently courting your brother.”

“What!?” Ayelma gasped.

“Oh, so you managed to confess?” Minaz asked, watching the twins in amusement as she walked a step behind on Jurao’s other side.

“More or less,” the Demon King replied.

“That brat actually noticed someone?” Owren muttered, bringing up the rear with Exka, “Of course it would be a demon - was always going on about demon plants and their s’posed sentience…”

That phrasing feels familiar, Jurao thought, considering the reaction from when Braelin had first appeared.

“Please tell me you got the statue,” Hujur, waiting for them in a hall along the way, asked - falling into step with Minaz.

“Right here!” Exka declared, holding up the trunk.

“Good,” Hujur sighed, “The novelty of snow is starting to wear thin - though there’s now a schedule being planned for it.”

“Wait, no!” Ayelma ran up again, “How long have you been courting? Does Braelin really know you’re doing that? Like, you explained it in explicit terms, right? You’re not just assuming he understood your meaning from something else?”

“He was the one who asked me, as it happens,” Jurao replied.

“He,” Meir’il was still holding onto his sister’s arm, but she seemed to be dragging him along, “Braelin asked to court you…?”

“Not exactly,” Jurao replied, “To be more accurate, he asked if we were courting after accepting my confession.”

“That makes more sense,” Meir’ril sighed.

Since they took the most direct route, they arrived in the gardens in no time at all. Minaz took the statue box from Exka, waving with a free hand as she and Hujur went off toward the Bewitching Garden.

“Could you show us to Braelin, please,” Jurao asked the garden, waving them off.

As the hedges opened a path, Meir’ril gasped, “They are sentient…”

“What?” Ayelma asked.

“Braelin said he’d read that demon plants were sentient,” Meir’ril replied, following behind as Jurao led the way, “He was always curious about it…”

“He would be,” Aeylma laughed.

“Of course he would be,” Owren muttered, “Boy only ever made friends with plants… why wouldn’t he want them to return the sentiment… well, not that human and elven plants didn’t grow better for ‘im anyway…”

They found Braelin in the Gentle Garden, checking that the mushrooms had proper coverage.

Ayelma ran past the Demon King upon spotting him, “Braelin!”

Her brother looked up, eyes widening in surprise. He got to his feet just in time to accept Ayelma barreling into him, nearly knocking them both to the ground - if not for a nearby blanket bush moving to support them.

Meir’ril was only a few steps behind his twin, joining the hug with equal enthusiasm and less force.

“Damn brats,” Owren said, wiping at his eye while remaining by Jurao, “Making an old man worry by running off… all the time…”

Jurao smiled, content to stand back and watch.

“You’re alright,” Braelin said, breath shaky and an arm wrapped around each of his younger siblings, “I’m so glad.”

“That’s our line!” Ayelma insisted, pulling back and wiping at her watery eyes, “How did you even end up in the Demon Realm?”

“Uncle’s here too,” Mer’ril added, stepping to the side.

Owren waved a hand, taking a seat on the ground, “Course I’m here! I said I’d look after ya, didn’t I?”

“It’s good to see you, uncle,” Braelin chuckled, his own eyes misty. He kept a hand on his sibling’s shoulders and said, “You’ve both gotten taller again - you were still my height last I saw you.”

“Well, yeah,” Ayelma rolled her eyes, “Do you know anything about Malson or Mom and Dad?”

“Malson’s with some pirates - he should be getting a message that we’re here soon,” Braelin said, wiping at his face and smearing mud across his cheek, “But I haven’t heard anything about our parents.”

“Of course he’s with pirates!” Ayelma declared, “Why didn’t I think of that!”

“Um, Braelin,” Meir’ril glanced at Jurao, “Are you really, um, courting the Demon King…?”

“Yeah,” Braelin replied, directing his smile at Jurao, “We are courting.”

The Demon King felt his chest swell like he’d grown a fourth heart and said, “It seems you all have a lot of catching up to do - perhaps you should reconvene at the cottage.”

“Cottage?” Meir’ril asked.

“It was built for me, but I don’t really use it,” Braelin said, nodding to one of the Rocking Trees as it handed him his cloak, “So it’s been modified for the rest of the family. It’s stocked with food stores, so we could talk over a meal…?”

“That sounds great!” Ayelma grinned.

Owren huffed as he got back to his feet - accepting a hand from the King, “Now he says there’s a cottage… too much moving around for an old man like me, honestly…”

“I’ll leave you to it,” Jurao said, intending to return to work.

“You’re not going to stay?” Braelin asked, walking over to him and his uncle.

“I didn’t want to impose,” the Demon King replied, surprised.

“Oh,” Braelin said, scratching at his chin and looking at his family, “I just thought you should meet everyone, but if it would be an imposition…”

“Not at all!” Ayelma declared, “I mean, we need to get caught up on your relationship, too, right?”

Meir’ril chuckled, “It doesn’t bother me, either.”

Owren huffed - then reached out to squeeze his nephew’s shoulder, “What am I supposed to do, say no? To the first person you’ve wanted us to meet? Bah, you’ll use those puppy dog eyes you got from Aesly.”

“But I thought my mother’s eyes were brown?” Braelin frowned, not pulling away from the contact.

“It’s not the color, boy! It’s the look,” Owren said - then something in him seemed to break as he, too, pulled Braelin into a hug, dropping his cane, “Fool boy…”

“I know, uncle,” his nephew replied, returning the embrace once again.

When he was released, Braelin leaned down to pick up the cane, asking, “What happened after we were separated?”

“You mean after you shoved these two down the well after me and ran off?” Owren grumbled, accepting it back begrudgingly.

“Yes, exactly,” Braelin replied, ignoring the indignation as he led the way across the gardens.

Jurao took up the rear of the little party, finding it novel after so many years in the lead of others.

“I can’t believe there was a secret tunnel under the well!” Ayelma said, “Especially leading all the way out of Fouran!”

“We ended up running into a group of merchants in the King’s Wood,” Meir’ril said, “They were also fleeing the capitol - Dad was always popular with the common people, so they let us join the caravan and gave us less conspicuous clothing.”

“Gave, bah,” Owren huffed, “All that finery was worth ten times the rough travel clothes they ‘gave’ you. Clearly, they were making a trade in their favor…”

“Which was still good for us,” Ayelma rolled her eyes.

“They got us to the border at Gresma, at least,” Mer’ril said, “Before the real fighting started, anyway.”

“I’m glad you weren’t there for that,” Braelin sighed.

“Were you?” Ayelma asked.

Before Braelin could answer, they had arrived at the cottage. Jurao hadn’t considered his partner being caught up in the Jostian civil war - the man hadn’t mentioned it. Still, it wasn’t something pleasant to talk about, either.

“Ah, just a moment - I should let Darri know I’ll be taking an extended midday meal,” Braelin said, heading towards the office.

Jurao followed after him, “You could take the day.”

“Well,” his gardener paused, frowning as he looked between his family and the gardens.

Ayelma started laughing, interrupted by snorts.

Meir’ril sighed, shaking his head at his twin - though he also smiled and said, “Just the same…”

“What, there isn’t anyone else to look after it?” Owren huffed, “Even you can leave things to others on occasion…”

“There isn’t,” Braelin replied, still looking torn.

“What?” Owren asked, looking genuinely confused.

“We don’t usually have gardeners,” Jurao explained, “Since the plants can usually catch enough prey to sustain themselves - albeit only just. Braelin is the only one.”

“Fool boy,” Owren rolled his eyes, “You need to train some staff… can’t manage gardens this big on your own, and what happens after you’re gone, eh?”

“The plants help,” Braelin shrugged, “But you’re right… maybe I’ll have Gaele put in a request for some groundskeepers to transfer…”

“Gaele?” Meir’ril asked.

“My assistant,” Braelin replied, “They handle all the paperwork and communication with other departments.”

“You never were good at that sort of thing,” Owren sighed.

“In any case,” Ayelma flipped her hair over her shoulder, “I think a long meal is fine - we’re together again, so we’ll have plenty of time to catch up. No need to rush it all in one go.”

Braelin smiled in relief, “Right - let me just tell Demarri, then.”

“I should leave a note in case anyone comes looking for me,” Jurao realized.

In that way, the Demon King followed behind his partner into the office. He noted the changes since he’d first seen it - the front board was covered in various notes, with papers tacked up on the cork side. Braelin’s desk had a few neat stacks of papers - since he rarely used it, after all. Gaele’s desk was a mess - covered in papers and folders with no real semblance of order.

“This is a rare sight,” a bored voice - presumably Demarri’s - said. At the only occupied desk sat a trollish demon with pink skin, swirling white markings, and dark red hair shaved on one side. She stared at them for a moment before sighing and getting to her feet to bow, “Your highness.”

This was his first time meeting the second Gardening staff member, so Jurao wasn’t sure what to make of her greeting.

“I’m taking a long midday meal,” Braelin said, “In case anyone comes looking. Oh, and ask Gaele to see if any groundskeepers want to transfer into our department.”

“Got it, boss,” Demarri said, walking over to the chalkboard to write it down.

“I’ll be out as well, if anyone comes looking,” Jurao said, wondering at this arrangement, “Next door at the cottage.”

“Got it, your highness,” Demarri said, returning to her desk and picking up a book to read.

“Thank you, Demarri,” Braelin said, headed out again.

Well, Jurao thought, following his partner back outside, She certainly does seem like someone who transferred in to avoid work…