Demon King's Gardener

“We cannot change topics until a decision has been reached on the first debate,” Mavas chuckled, “Are you all ready to close? We still have some time left.”

“Time?” Ayelma asked.

“Lord Mavas is wearing a timekeeper,” Gaele said, “There are three debates a night, each allotted at least thirty minutes, though they often go over.”

“They’re very rarely settled early, that’s true,” Messo said, grinning at Jurao and Braelin.

“I’m fine with an early decision,” Gnori said.

“He’s gotten better at letting arguments go,” Vajur noted.

“That’s true,” Ieresti snorted, “A decade or so ago, he’d run the full time just refusing to give up his first argument.”

“I’m fine as well,” Kaenaz smirked.

“If I’m lucky, everyone else will argue for me next time as well,” Demarri snorted.

Noga considered, then called up, “Then tell me, Lord Braelin, if I did challenge you, would you face me yourself?”

Braelin sighed and mustered, “I’d let my brother do it.”

“AND I’D WIN, TOO!” Malson called out, likely having waited for an opportunity.

Those in the box the Petty Prince occupied offered a cheer interspersed with laughter – which certainly counted in Malson and Braelin’s favor, as many of Goyl’s friends were also conservatives and moderates. It seemed the courtship of Malson and Goyl had been highly successful – or perhaps it was the human’s already established dueling record.

“Then you’d be facing a human either way!” Gnori added, “You cannot find fault with that!”

Noga growled, then waved, “I’m done with this poor excuse for a debate.”

“Then I declare,” Mavas said, with great amusement as he held a hand up toward the box, “Lord Braelin is the best Department Head.”

The crowd gave a healthy cheer for the result, though it was clear not everyone was entirely pleased by it.

“Congratulations on winning your first debate,” Hujur chuckled.

“It was not really my intention,” Braelin sighed.

The next debate was, indeed, about the fairness of carrying a deity’s favor – the ultimate decision being that, as demon deities blessed those already skilled within their domain, it was only as ‘unfair’ as mundane natural talent or affinity for a particular skill.

By the end of that debate, Braelin had returned to his own seat – listening to the commentary of their box-mates and joining in when appropriate.

“Now, for our last debate!” Mavas called out, “Does anyone have a suggestion?”

The crowd called out various topics and questions, as was usual. Mavas nodded as he listened – then settled on, “Which of the King’s valets is best? Did I hear that?”

There was an approving cheer from the crowd, and Mavas chuckled before declaring, “There we have it! Which of the King’s valets is best! Competitors, your stances?”

“The Prince, obviously,” Noga scoffed.

“Hm, I don’t really know much about either of them,” Demarri sighed, “So I’ll go with the Prince as well.”

“It’s obviously Feyl!” Gnori declared with his usual accompanying thump.

“I have to choose my brother as well,” Kaenaz shrugged.

“A heartwarming sentiment!” Mavas declared, “Begin!”

“Prince Forvi brings back the traditions and legacy of the Carmaega line!” Noga opened, “While Feyl is nothing but a status-chasing Sculi!”

Jurao sighed – he knew many still held that belief, and Feyl himself had said not to mind it, but he still disliked hearing it expressed.

“Spoken like anyone who believes our family is oh so different from other nobles,” Kaenaz snorted, not appearing upset himself, “Harder to defend when you consider my brother and the King have been friends since they were both under a century old, and the King only became a noble at all five hundred years ago – and has only outranked us for the past hundred.”

Gnori pounded his podium, “The King and Feyl are best friends! No matter Prince Forvi’s merits that makes him the better valet for his highness!”

Braelin chuckled, “Oh, so he decided it that way.”

“Hm,” Jurao questioned.

“Who the better valet for you specifically is, rather than in general,” Braelin elaborated.

“Ah,” Jurao nodded, “Yes, a sound criteria.”

“Friendship does not determine skill,” Noga replied, “A Lesser noble cannot compete with a prince in terms of courtly affairs and authority.”

“Yet you question the King’s choice of partner and Royal Gardener?” Kaenaz asked, batting his lashes sweetly at her, “Not very consistent, my lady.”

Noga growled at him.

“The King looks happier when someone defends Feyl,” Demarri noted, “So I change my choice to him.”

“Have you no spine, girl?” Noga demanded.

“No,” Demarri replied, laying on her podium heavily, “They take too much effort.”

Gnori pounded his podium again, “I agree that friendship does not determine ability, but neither does rank! Feyl has always worked hard on behalf of the King, and no one has ever faulted his actual ability! You can’t just say his rank makes him worse! That’s- that’s-!”

“That’s admitting that you, much like a Sculi,” Kaenaz purred, “Hold rank above all else – wouldn’t you say?”

“Gnori is lucky Kaenaz is on his side on this one,” Vajur snorted, “Picks up on his train of thought faster.”

“And puts it into words a bit more eloquently,” Ieresti agreed, “Probably Gnori’s biggest weakness.”

“But he can shout filler until he gets there otherwise,” Messo chuckled.

“Was also a mistake to bring rank into a debate with Gnori to begin with,” Vajur added.

Noga growled again, “I do not believe in leeching off the rank of others, unlike your family of uppity earthenware!”

“Earthenware?” Ayelma snorted.

“Unglazed clay is very delicate,” Hujur explained, “While technically earthenware can be glazed, it’s more commonly not – so she’s calling them delicate.”

“Oh,” Ayelma considered, then giggled, “I guess flowers here don’t really fit that description…”

“N-not really, no,” Gaele chuckled, seeming almost at ease.

“You know, the gardens use earthenware,” Demarri mused, “Lord Braelin loves to go on about it…”

Braelin chuckled sheepishly.

“I like listening to you go on about things,” Jurao said, leaning down to kiss his partner’s head.

“Thank you,” Braelin chuckled again, leaning into the King, “I like listening to you go on about things as well.”

“He goes on about things?” Vajur asked in a tone of disbelief.

“Locks and weaponry,” Braelin supplied.

Vajur nodded in comprehension.

“We have these clay pots that are buried in the ground,” Demarri went on, “You fill them with water, and the unglazed clay lets it soak into the soil at the perfect rate for the plants. Cuts down on the time needed to get them all watered and how long between watering intervals are needed.”

“Does this drivel have a point?” Noga sneered.

“But who the fuck thinks of that, you know?” Demarri asked, looking to the crowd as if she hadn’t heard Noga, “Burying earthenware for irrigation. And if the ground freezes, it’ll break the pots cause they’re under too much pressure. You can also break them in the process of burying them – as Lady Noga pointed out, they’re delicate. But if they were glazed, the water wouldn’t be able to seep out.”

“Child-” Noga growled.

“I guess it just goes to show that, rather than judging how useful something is based on how much ‘pressure’ it can handle,” Demarri drawled, fully turned away from her fellow competitors and speaking companionably to the crowd, “You should figure out the best way to use something based on the properties it has, rather than the ones it lacks.

“That’s what the King is all about, isn’t he?” she went on, waving vaguely at their box without looking up, “He puts people no one else would in positions because of what they lack – Captain Gnori lacks rank, but the King made him Guard Captain, and everyone thinks he’s doing a great job. And the ones who don’t are just mad they couldn’t pass a basic combat and fitness test.”

There were some laughs from the crowd at that, while Gnori blushed at the surprise praise.

“Sure, your average Sculi might not be a fighter,” Demarri shrugged, “But valets don’t need to be fighters – they need to be people pleasers. And who’s better at doing that than a Sculi?”

Even Kaenaz laughed, adding, “We do get a lot of practice on the subject, to be sure.”

“… you know, I didn’t think she was actually listening when I talk,” Braelin hummed.

“… she works for you,” Vajur said.

“Yes, but in the Office – she doesn’t need to know all the gardening details,” Braelin replied, “And she’s mostly just there so people with complaints or messages have someone to talk at.”

“She does make sure missives go on the right desk,” Gaele added in defense of her friend.

Hujur sighed, “So this is why the Gardening Department paperwork is a mess, is it?”

“S-sorry, sir,” Gaele offered sheepishly.

“Oh, if I were that worried about it, I would have sent you another person,” Hujur sighed again, “You’re not even the worst office, to be honest…”

“… I concede the point,” Noga huffed, clearly displeased, “To be sure, a Sculi is as suited to battle as a spoon, but you can’t eat soup with a sword.”

“Well, shall we end a bit early?” Mavas called.

“I’ve had my fill of being badgered by fools tonight,” Noga snorted.

“Great, time to go home,” Demarri said.

“I’m pleased, of course,” Kaenaz grinned.

Gnori nodded, “I am satisfied as well!”

“There we have it!” Mavas laughed, “Feyl is the King’s best valet! That concludes tonight’s debates!”

The crowd gave cheers and applause, the debaters accepting as suited them – Gnori standing with his arms crossed as he’d been before, Kaenaz bowing in a few different directions, Noga glaring since she’d lost all three debates, and Demarri turning to sign up at their box.

“Oh,” Gaele said, and turned to Ayelma, “Demarri’s asking if we want to join her for drinks.”

“Yes!” Ayelma said with a grin.

Gaele nodded and signed back down to fos friend.

“We intend to wait for the crowd to leave,” Jurao said, turning to Ieresti and Messo though he meant it for everyone, “But you do not need to wait for us if you wish to depart sooner.”

“I don’t think it would make much difference now,” Ieresti said, observing the crowd, “Though we may go when it thins.”

“Thank you for the consideration, your highness,” Messo added.

It took several minutes for the crowd to thin – in which time, they spoke idly of the debates. Ayelma was sure Malson would want to participate in the future, but Braelin disagreed. Hujur asked Ieresti after something in the Artisans Branch, which turned out to be some kind of infighting between two other Branch Heads besides them. Ayelma and Gaele were the first to leave the box – the elf-human woman impatient to be off.

Ieresti, Messo, Hujur, and Vajur left around the same time after them – though the crowd was still a little too much for Jurao and Braelin’s liking.

“This was fun,” Braelin remarked as they watched the crowd thin further below.

Gnori had been surrounded – at first by the usual congratulatory crowd members, then by Goyl’s friends after the Lord and Malson had approached. The Guard Captain didn’t seem to know how to react to the group of mainly higher-ranking nobles – or what appeared to flirting from many of them. Noga and Demarri had left immediately, while Kaenaz…

“Good evening, your highness.”

Jurao turned in his seat, nodding, “Ah. Good evening, Kaenaz.”