Demon King's Gardener

Jurao stepped outside and flinched at the sudden rustling. As he’d heard at breakfast, many of the plants had been drooping - but they straightened up as soon as he stepped onto the veranda.

The Demon King sighed softly and walked up to the Labyrinthine Hedge to say, “Braelin really will be alright - but he needs to rest for this week and won’t be able to do anything strenuous a month or so after. You’ll look after him, won’t you.”

A branch of the hedge burst into safe blooms, creaking as it wrapped its smaller branches into a flower crown.

Jurao smiled as he took it into his hands, “I’ll make sure he gets this.”

The hedge shook and burst into more flowers, which the King took mean gratitude.

He nodded to the hedge, carefully tucking away the flower crown before heading towards the Gardening Office.

He was surprised to find Owren and Milve in a confrontation of some kind, the gardening staff members standing nearby uneasily.

“What’s this,” Jurao asked, walking to them.

“I cannot accept this!” Milve replied immediately, “Your highness, a human Beloved of My Lady is one thing, but just any human?”

Owren huffed, “Just any human, like I didn’t teach that boy most of what he knows… high priest of a plant goddess and doesn’t know the first thing about caring for them, but wants to complain because I do…”

Milve’s face darkened as he rounded on Owren again, “You cannot compare your knowledge of human plants to mine of demonic ones!”

“So tell me then,” Owren glared, “How do you spot disease on demon plants, eh? What are the signs of pests? How do you treat those diseases, yeah?”

“Plants that fall to disease or pests are weak! They must fall to make way for new growth!” Milve insisted.

“You think a sapling can provide the same shade as a full-grown tree?” Owren snorted, “There’s no need to do a slash and burn clearing if you catch diseases early enough to treat - these gardens provide each other support systems. If you let too many plants of one kind fall, it can have a chain effect on the other plants in the same system - you think you can replace all of this,” the human gestured to the gardens, “Overnight?”

I see where Braelin learned his arguing skills, Jurao thought, impressed that his partner’s uncle was easily standing his ground.

Milve growled, “Demon plants are independent! My Lady chose to represent them for it! Just because humans and human plants need support doesn’t mean they do!”

“I don’t have the patience for ignorance like yours,” Owren decided and turned to the staff, “You lot, you know where you’re ‘sposed to be, don’t you? Get there - I’ll be ’round.”

The gardening staff looked to the King, who nodded and waved them off.

“Ignorance?” Milve demanded, “In what way could I be ignorant?”

Owren rolled his eyes, “Don’t have time to list them all. Walk slow enough as it is without pointing out the obvious to some priest mad he’s not mommy’s favorite - you don’t want to learn from me? Fine, don’t - but my nephew can’t rest easy unless he knows someone is looking out for his precious plants. I’m the only one around here with enough experience for him to trust to do it. So get out of my way, or shut up and listen.”

The human didn’t actually wait for a response - immediately moving towards the nearest garden while leaning heavily on his cane.

Milve stood in place, tail twitching as he growled - then he took a deep breath and forced himself to relax. He turned to the King, “I am glad My Lady’s Beloved will be alright.”

Jurao hummed, then turned, “I had meant to share some news with Owren. Excuse me.”

Milve made a sputtering noise behind him.

“Owren,” the King said, quickly catching up to the man.

“Your highness?” the human replied with a distinct lack of deference.

“I learned this morning that Malson is on the way to the Demon Realm,” Jurao said, not minding it, “And that the former captain of the guard Beneford is with him.”

The King caught Owren’s arm as the man stumbled, holding him up as he got his feet back under him.

“Oh,” the human said, “Well. I’m sure all the brats will be happy about that. Should of guessed Ben’d be with the prince - if I had the twins and… the boy was on his own after Malson went back for the captain, then… only place he could be, really.”

“I know it may be… difficult,” Jurao said, “But demons do not… we do not have any bias against relationships regarding gender.”

“I had noticed,” Owren said dryly, pulling away to walk on his own - then sighed, “I’m an old man set in my ways,” he snorted, “At least as bullheaded as that priest. But thanks for the effort, I ‘spose.”

Jurao nodded, “I’ll leave you to your work, then.”

Owren waved him off.

When the King turned, he was surprised to find Milve only a foot or so behind them.

The High Priest grumbled, then bowed before walking past Jurao - catching up with Owren himself.

… it’ll be fine, the King decided, heading back into the castle.

He stopped by the library on his way to his office - and, as he’d hoped, found Meir’ril there.

The young elf-human man was sitting at a table with Carvve, books and other study materials spread out around them. There was also something the King presumed to be a magical artefact - mainly as it was a floating sphere consisting of a metal frame and a glowing central ball over a small obelisk.

Carvve noticed his approach and touched the sphere - which caused it to tink onto the obelisk, “Good morning, your highness.”

“Good morning,” Jurao nodded, “Language lessons.”

Meir’ril and Carvve gave each other a look of confusion.

It was Meir’ril who seemed to have a moment of realization, “Oh, were you… asking if this is a language lesson, your highness?”

“Yes,” Jurao nodded, “Braelin mentioned you intended to learn.”

Meir’ril chuckled, “Yes - Carvve is helping me with the spoken portion.”

“He’s a very good student, your highness,” Carvve smiled.

Meir’ril blushed at the praise, “Thank you.”

“I stopped by to share some news,” the King said, “I learned this morning your other brother is on his way to the Demon Realm with one of my agents and the former captain of the guard - they should arrive in a month.”

“That’s great!” Meir’ril grinned, getting to his feet, “I should go tell Aya and Uncle!”

“I told Owren before I came here,” Jurao smiled, “But I have not told your sister - I had intended to tell Braelin at the midday meal if he were awake then. The three of you are welcome to come to my quarters for it.”

“Ah,” Meir’ril chuckled sheepishly, “Yes, I’m sure we’d all like to check-in. And, sorry, Carvve - I was a little excited there.”

Carvve chuckled herself, “Demonae will not change in an afternoon - I have not had any dedicated students in a century or so; I am pleased enough there is someone with an avid mind.”

“Thank you,” the young man chuckled again, then bowed slightly to Jurao, “Excuse me, then.”

As the elf-human man jogged off, he paused, looking around the nearby aisles. After a moment, he ventured, “Hurge?”

Jurao recognized the guard that appeared from further in the library - as Gnori had said, the former prince’s guard was one that usually stood duty at the garden entrance to the castle. Their charge did seem startled that he’d been heard, but recovered quickly.

“I’m heading to the stables,” Meir’ril said, then chuckled, “Well, I don’t know where they are, though.”

“Allow me to show you, then,” Hurge said - but turned to bow to Jurao before taking the lead out of the library.

“Are you a devotee of Nosu, Carvve,” Jurao asked.

“... ah, yes, I am,” the Head Librarian replied.

The King hummed, “I met them recently - in a dream. They’re my patron.”

“Oh,” Carvve blinked, “I had not realized, your highness. There is a small temple to them in the back of the library, should you ever wish to worship.”

“Really,” Jurao asked.

“Yes,” the woman nodded, “Unlike the other deities, Nosu has no independent temples - we of their faith have long learned that wisdom cannot be forced onto others, nor can many of those who seek it survive arduous physical trials. Therefore, you will find their temples in the castle libraries of most cities, though they also share a public temple with Vouscu.”

Jurao hummed, then nodded, “I think, perhaps, I will take a moment to seek their guidance.”

“Please, allow me to show you the way,” Carvve smiled.

The Head Librarian did, indeed, lead Jurao to the back of the castle library - but bowed and left him at the entrance to the temple rather than enter herself. Stepping inside, Jurao could feel the presence of the divine - like the sound of a war band’s drums and pipes thrumming against his hearts.

There was no one else in the temple. Like the vast majority of demon buildings, the roof was domed - through rather than a central hearth, there was a circular skylight in the center with green stained glass as a window - carefully placed mirrors filling the single moderately sized room with green light. Directly under the light was an empty chair, modeled after Nosu’s celestial throne - clay supports rising high to support a hammock seat of many thin ribbons of colorful cloth, the ends hung around the edges of the ceiling. Combined with thin metal strands to add shimmer, it was the best way to mundanely represent the throne of polar lights.

As Jurao walked between two sets of three-rowed benches that formed a circle around the throne, he watched as his patron materialized.

“Iescula was very upset to hear about her Beloved’s close call with death,” Nosu said, leaning on their side across the scrolls, “When I heard, I thought you might wish for wisdom.”

“Was it so serious,” the King asked, sitting in one of the forward-most benches.

“It was,” Nosu answered, “Humans only have the one heart, Jurao - losing it would be death.”

Jurao frowned, looking at the rainbow mosaic tiles of the floor.

“I can not offer wisdom to what you do not speak,” Nosu said, but gently.

“I do not,” the King sighed, “I feel that I do not know myself. I feel…” he put a hand over his own hearts, “So much - it feels as though it is too much, and I do not know what to do with it. I do not know how to express it - or speak it.”

Nosu hummed, “Have you considered it is not something meant to be expressed in words?”

Jurao looked up, tilting his head.

“Grief, fear, loss,” they went on, holding out a hand, “These words describe emotions - but they don’t carry their weight. They cannot be fully comprehended through language - they must be felt. Facets can be expressed in other ways - in art, music, and even speech; but never can the full weight of another’s emotional pain be passed on.”

Jurao nodded, considering for some time before saying, “I still do not… know what to do. As King, I have responsibilities - focusing on them helps me manage these feelings.”

Nosu sighed with a sad smile, “Manage, or ignore?”

Jurao made a noncommittal noise.

“My wisdom for you, Jurao,” his deity said, “Is to take time for yourself to be with your partner - you chose your staff based on your trust in their abilities. Trust them now, when you need them, and allow your emotions to run their course.”

“Thank you,” the King bowed his head.

Nosu chuckled, “Well, you are one of mine - and I cannot say I am displeased that you would speak with me before Maenscul.”

Jurao nodded as he rose, “It had not been my intent - I had not realized this temple existed.”

“I’m not surprised,” his patron chuckled again, fading out of existence, “Be well, Jurao.”

The King decided to heed the advice he was given - after all, who would choose to ignore the words of the Deity of Wisdom?

He stopped at his office to say, “Alae, please clear my schedule for the week.”

His secretary looked up in surprise, “Ah, you intend to take some time off, my lord?”

“Yes,” the King nodded.

Alae smiled, “Of course, my lord - I hope Lord Braelin heals swiftly and well.”

“Thank you,” Jurao said, “And thank you again - for recommending Doctor Zede and Yashile to Kloy.”

His secretary blinked, then chuckled, “Yes, of course - they are remarkable women.”

Jurao nodded again and entered his office only to retrieve his latest lock. He found that a small bed had been set up in his receiving room - and the nurse Kloy had sent rose in surprise.

“Your highness,” they bowed.

“Be at ease,” Jurao said, picking up the larger table he had for guests and carrying it nearer the restbed, “I have simply decided my time is better spent here.”

“Of course, your highness,” the nurse rose, “Would you prefer if I left you?”

“No,” the King said, setting his lock and tools down to remove his cloak, “I would rather you were near in case of an emergency. Do make yourself comfortable.”

Braelin was asleep as expected, Petal curled at the foot of the bed. Jurao retrieved a chair, setting it on the bedside of the table - content to be near and work on solving his latest lock. After pulling out the flower crown and placing it on his partner’s brow, he found one of his free hands reaching out to grasp his partner’s - seeking comfort rather than providing it.

Surprisingly, though he could do no more than be present, it did make him feel better.