Demon King's Gardener

The next day, after breakfast, Feyl arrived at Jurao’s office and dropped a small stack of books on his desk.

“As requested,” he said, “Human romance novels – courtesy of Dad.”

“Ah, thank you,” Jurao said, setting his current paperwork aside to peruse the titles.

“He said all of the ones he picked are from the Reaches, so they should be the most culturally relevant to Braelin,” Feyl snorted, slumping into one of the seats in front of the hearth, “And Halvern did manage to track down one happy romance between two men so far – that’s included as well. Though I’m not sure why that detail was significant…”

“We discussed it in the book club,” Jurao replied, “In the Reaches, relationships between those of the same gender are frowned upon, so their romances often end sadly for political reasons.”

“Oh,” Feyl considered, then shrugged, “Well, after he mentioned it, I threw in two of mine that I never got rid of. One is Erenese, about an Emperor and one of his concubines; the other is Veden, about three men in a relationship – for more happy stories between men, even with less cultural significance.”

“Thank you,” Jurao said, neatly stacking the books once more – he would start reading during his evening free time, so they were fine where they were for now.

“I heard Milve has two subordinates now,” his best friend stated.

“Yes, two of the acolytes from his former temple decided to join him here under the Spiritual Guidance Branch of the Gardening Department,” Jurao nodded, retrieving the report he’d gotten on the results of the first department meeting. He read on, “Yheor is in charge of the Horticultural Branch, and she and Voga worked out which kitchen staff changed to her purview.”

“That cooking duel of theirs really did work wonders,” Feyl chuckled, “Though I suppose it also helps that they’re courting now.”

Jurao was prevented from adding his own opinion on the matter by a knock on the door, followed by Braelin opening it.

“Oh, you are here, good,” the human said as he spied Feyl, “Gaele and I wanted to talk to you.”

Feyl sat up as both entered, arching his left brows, “And what is it you could need of me for?”

Jurao was also curious, waiting to see what the answer would be.

“U-um,” Gaele cleared fos throat, hands nervously clasped together, “W-well, you… see… uh…”

“Do you want me to say it?” Braelin offered.

Gaele nodded, studying the floor.

Petal, recovered as Milve had predicted, was wrapping tendrils around one of fos arms and legs.

“Gaele overheard fos father talking to a friend,” Braelin explained, patting fos elbow, “And believes from what fos overheard that Ierge might be fos other father.”

Feyl blinked several times as he processed this – then sighed, “Why does no one tell that man they’re having his children?”

“Um!” Gaele flinched, “I… I know it was right after they’d had a big fight – that I was born, I mean. And Ierge had gone on a trip to visit Mesescima before my dad knew he was pregnant, so… um… I guess, maybe, that’s why?”

Feyl got to his hooves, studying his potential half-sibling, “So? What is it you wanted my help with? Asking Dad – Ierge?”

Gaele held up fos hands, “Oh, no! Ah, he… watched me all the time as a kid, so, um, I’m not… afraid of him or anything, if that’s… what you thought…”

“It crossed my mind,” Feyl snorted.

“I just, um,” Gaele went back to wringing fos hands, “I don’t know how to, um, tell Ierge without… well…”

“Without him immediately charging into the Administrative Office and making an entire scene of it?” Feyl supplied.

Gaele nodded with a nervous chuckle, “And I don’t really… know how to bring it up with Dad, either…”

Feyl rubbed at his temples with two hands, the other two on his hips, “If he weren’t so prone to blowing his temper, this would be much simpler… well then. Jurao, do you mind if we borrow your office for a little familial chat?”

“I do not,” Jurao replied.

“Excellent!” his best friend declared, “We call them both here and Jurao keeps everyone from leaving until we’ve had this all out. Any disagreements?”

“You mean, uh, right now?” Gaele asked, voice going up in octave on the last word.

Feyl shrugged, “Why not? If this is concerning you that much, best to have done with it quickly, yes?”

Gaele seemed to consider this, clearly still conflicted.

“I’ll stay if you want,” Braelin added, “For moral support.”

That seemed to settle things for fos, “A-alright, yeah, you’re right.”

“I’ll retrieve Ierge,” Feyl sighed, headed for the door, “Since I’ll be able to get him here no matter what kind of mood he’s in…”

Jurao got up after him, leaning out the door as his best friend went off, “Alae, could you please send a runner to have Lord Halvern come to my office.”

“Of course, my lord,” Alae replied, after the customary exchange of mean smiles between him and Feyl as the valet passed, “For what reason?”

Jurao considered, then said, “I do not have a good excuse.”

Alae snorted, arching a brow, “Very well, my lord, I shall invent one.”

“Thank you, Alae,” Jurao said, returning to his office.

Gaele had taken a seat in one of the chairs before the hearth, idly petting Petal as the crushfern had settled in fos lap.

It seems to enjoy comforting others, Jurao observed, before asking, “Are you nervous, Gaele.”

Fos flinched, then chuckled, “Um, well, I guess I just… didn’t expect help? Your highness!”

“Why not,” Jurao frowned, sitting at his desk.

“I, um,” Gaele sighed, “I guess I just expected everyone to say I was being silly about this. I mean, I’m already an adult, and it never really bothered me that I only knew who one of my parents was growing up, but…”

Braelin had taken a seat next to his assistant and hummed, “But Ierge watched you growing up?”

“I actually already thought of him as being like a second dad,” Gaele chuckled, “And it makes a lot more sense now, I mean. Why else would my dad insist on Ierge watching me when he could have just hired someone, you know? They’re close friends and all, but… well. I guess I just. I don’t know why it matters to me?”

“It doesn’t need to have a reason,” Braelin replied, “But it really doesn’t seem to make sense that Lord Halvern would lie about not knowing your other parent and then go out of his way to include Ierge in your life – even if it’s just to know, I don’t think asking is unreasonable.”

Jurao considered, then added, “Ierge always disliked that he could not properly claim Feyl as his son – I think he would want to know about any other children.”

“I thought that, too,” Gaele nodded, then flinched, “Um, your highness! Though… I mean, Feyl was already an established adult by the time I came along, so I didn’t hear much about him, but he did come up every once in a while. It’s still kind of hard to believe he’s Ierge’s son, with how different they are…”

“In what way,” Jurao asked, having always thought Feyl and Ierge were alike. At the very least, in the way they managed their tempers, though it was certainly true Feyl had a longer fuse.

“Um,” Gaele considered, then tilted fos head, “Feyl is more… uh… well, delicate, I guess?”

Braelin snorted, then cleared his throat, “I suppose that is how he presents himself…”

“That’s true,” Jurao agreed – to the sentiment of his partner.

“Is he… not?” Gaele asked, looking between them.

A knock prevented them from answering, and Lord Halvern opened the door enough to be heard, “You called for me, your highness?”

“Yes,” Jurao replied, “Please come in and take a seat, Lord Halvern.”

Lord Halvern opened the door fully and paused when he saw his offspring.

“G-good afternoon, Dad,” Gaele said, with a forced smile.

“Good afternoon,” Halvern returned, turning his gaze to Jurao, “I was informed you wished to go over some budgetary reports – is this not the case?”

“No,” Jurao replied, “I apologize for the deception. Please take a seat as we wait for another person.”

Halvern actually seemed like he might disobey the request for a moment – but ultimately, he sighed and took a seat in front of Jurao’s desk. He folded his hands in his lap and asked, “Am I to understand the true purpose of this meeting will not be revealed until this… final party has arrived?”

“Yes,” Jurao replied.

“I see,” Halvern replied – and looked to Gaele, “And you are part of this meeting?”

“Y-yes,” Gaele nodded, “Um, I… hm.”

“Gaele has been doing an excellent job in the Gardening Department,” Braelin added, “This meeting isn’t related to fos performance. Fos asked me to stay as support, nothing more.”

“Very well,” Halvern said, looking through the reports he’d brought along as they waited.

It was around fifteen minutes of uncomfortable silence before Feyl opened the door once more.

“You wanted to see me, your highness?” Ierge demanded, then looked around the room and frowned, “The fuck?”

Halvern looked up slowly at the weaponsmith, then his nervous offspring. He sighed and set his paperwork aside, “Ah. I see. This conversation was bound to happen eventually.”

“What conversation!?” Ierge demanded once more, “What is-!”

“Just take a seat first,” Feyl rolled his eyes, closing the door behind his father while pushing the man further into the room, “Honestly, this whole thing was just so you wouldn’t make a scene about it.”

“A scene about what?” Ierge scoffed, “You won’t even say why I’m here!”

“You’re here because Gaele is your offspring,” Halvern said quietly.

Ierge paused – face going through a few different motions as he looked between Halvern and Gaele. After a few moments, he took the second seat before Jurao’s desk, “What?”

“I, um,” Gaele started, then paused – but only for a moment before resolving fos-self, “I heard Dad telling Lady Scaoz that he was worried about ruining a close friendship by revealing who my other parent was, and, um, the only person that made sense with some other things he said was you, so… uh…”

“So Braelin suggested asking me for help so fos could find out the truth without you blowing up and tearing across the castle about it,” Feyl finished, crossing all four arms as he leaned back on the door, “Dad.”

Ierge seemed ready to reply to that in his usual angry tone – but stopped as turning landed his gaze on Halvern. His mouth snapped shut as he studied the other man – finally asking, “Vern. Why? Why wouldn’t you…”

Gaele scooted forward in fos seat, but could only glance up from the ground rather than stare openly.

Halvern was studying his hands in his lap and sighed, “Do you remember what we fought about before your pilgrimage to Mesescima?”

“Well, yeah,” Ierge scoffed, “I was telling you about this one,” he waved back at Feyl.

Feyl rolled his eyes.

“And went off about hating nobles, except I went too far, and you called me on it and…” Ierge’s arm fell heavily, “And… you were already pregnant.”

“I was,” Halvern agreed.

“And,” Ierge growled, sighing as he rubbed at his forehead, “You were trying to warm up to telling me before I made an ass of myself, as usual.”

Halvern hummed noncommittally.

“Um,” Gaele cleared fos throat, “I’m not sure I understand why that would, um…?”

“I…” Ierge huffed.

“No,” Halvern sighed, “I’ll explain.”