Demon King's Gardener

“HUH!?” Malson demanded before Jurao could decide to step in, easily louder than Gnori had been moments before.

“I AGREE WITH THE PRINCIPLE THAT LETTERS SHOULD BE PRONOUNCED IF YOU’RE USING THEM!” the former human prince went on, glaring and puffing up his chest while crossing his own arms, “BUT HOW THE FUCK WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT YOU DID IT THAT WAY, HUH!? I SHOULDN’T BE YELLED AT FOR THAT! I CAN BARELY READ DEMONAE, SO I WAS GOING OFF THE WAY THE LIBRARIAN’S SPELL TRANSLATED THE TEXT!”

Gnori staggered back in surprise, face darkening in a blush as he seemed rendered speechless.

Gavven started giggling in delight, “He is louder!”

“WHAT!?” Malson demanded, then flinched - just then noticing Jurao, most likely.

“Gnori didn’t mean to yell at you,” the King said, “Braelin has said in the past that you two are alike in that you often speak too loudly without meaning anything by it.”

“He!” Malson’s face went red, and he cleared his throat, “Oh!”

After a few moments of silence, Gavven giggled again, “So, what did you need Gnori for?”

“Right!” Malson said, “I don’t plan to sit around doing nothing all day, so Braelin suggested the castle guard as a possible job, and I wanted to ask about the requirements for joining!”

Gavven started giggling more and elbowed Gnori, “Isn’t the next recruitment exam in a month or so? Perfect timing!”

“YES!” Gnori shouted, then cleared his throat as well, “I mean, yes! There is! The exam is comprised of an obstacle course and a series of physical and combat tests!”

“It’s new!” Gavven giggled, “Gnori wants to ensure prospective guard members are serious about entering and can do the work!”

“Under my system, the only thing that matters is ability!” Gnori smiled proudly, “No more nobles looking to slack off or excluding non-nobles because their superiors don’t like them!”

Jurao remembered when Gnori had first implemented his system after his appointment - he’d run the first ‘Guard Exam’ a year after taking over, stating that he would give the current guard members another year to pass before expelling them. It caused quite a stir at the time, but Jurao had thought the idea sound and gave Gnori the support he needed.

Now, the exam was held every decade, open to all - current and prospective members were both required to pass it.

“Good to know, thank you!” Malson said, then turned, “Excuse me, then!”

The guard bowed to Jurao before following after the former prince.

Gavven giggled, “How does someone so small shout so loudly!”

“It is!” Gnori’s face darkened in a blush again, “Impressive!”

“Were you also on your way to the evening meal,” the King asked.

“We were, my lord!” Gavven grinned, “Braelin’s brother just caught us on our way out!”

“I wonder if he’ll be able to pass the exam,” Jurao said, taking the lead to the dining hall.

“I hope he does!” Gavven giggled, “I suppose he won’t need a personal guard, then!”

“It would be odd for a guard to have a guard,” the King agreed, “Though he may find another career field that appeals to him before the exam.”

“Does he have combat experience?” Gnori asked.

“He was trained in combat as a prince and has spent the past fifteen years as a pirate,” Jurao replied, “So he has both formal training and practical experience.”

“Then he should be able to pass the exam easily if he takes it!” the Captain of the Guard declared, “Since I made sure the tests rely on skill and not pure physical strength!”

Gavven giggled more and said, “Are you just hoping he takes it because you want to see the cute human in action, Gnori?”

Cute? Jurao wondered, pausing to look back at the Guard Captain.

“WHO SAID HE WAS CUTE!?” Gnori demanded, entire face dark with a blush as his tail swished behind him - scales scraping on the clay walls due to the size of it.

“Who said who was cute…?” Jouvi asked, covering her ears as she was about to enter the staff dining hall.

Gavven skipped ahead in delight, “Braelin’s older brother outshouted Gnori earlier, so Gnori thinks he’s cute!”

“STOP MAKING STUFF UP!” Gnori sputtered, following after em.

“So I’m wrong?” Gavven asked, tilting eir head as e smiled innocently.

“I-!” Gnori growled, “You-!”

“How’d you run into him so fast?” Festi arched their left brows, “I heard he arrived from the gardening staff, but I didn’t think he’d traveled much of the castle yet…”

“He’s thinking about taking the Guard Exam!” Gavven announced cheerfully, skipping to eir seat.

“Different personalities but just as outrageous,” Festi snorted, “He’d stick out like a sore thumb… not that Braelin doesn’t…”

“I’ll have to set up appointments with Zede,” Kloy said to himself, “Was it just the older brother?”

“There was also Beneford, the former Jostian Capetian of the Guard,” Jurao replied, taking his seat, “They both have siren prosthetics - my aunt already volunteered to maintenance them.”

“Good to know,” the Royal Physician nodded, “There are measures to consider for the skin around the prosthetic attachments, but I don’t have any of the technical knowledge for the equipment itself. I’ll confer with Nevve about any specifics.”

The meal passed with only a bit more chatter about the newest castle residents, and Jurao returned to his suite to find he had an extra guest.

“I had more to say to you!” Malson announced, glaring up at the King.

“I tried to talk him out of it…” Braelin sighed, sitting on the couch.

Petal was in their basin in the corner for the night, tendrils wavy lazily around the rim of it.

“I did not,” Feyl grinned in one of the chairs nearby, “I think I know what this is, and I wanted to hear it.”

“I am listening,” Jurao said, wondering what it could be.

“Good, you better be!” Malson said, pointing up at him, “The others might have approved of you already, and Braelin said you aren’t forcing him, but! It’s his first relationship! As his older brother, I’m watching you! And if you hurt him, you’ll be answering to me!”

Feyl collapsed into laughter, “That’s what I thought!”

Braelin sighed again, “We’re too old for this…”

“Understood,” Jurao said, stepping around his partner’s brother, “Excuse me, I’d like to change into my evening wear - we can speak more after.”

Malson sputtered, then huffed, “Don’t underestimate me just because you’re the Demon King or whatever!”

“I will not,” Jurao replied, reaching out to tousle his partner’s hair as he passed, “And I have no intention of hurting your brother, but as it is also my first romantic relationship, I will likely make mistakes. Please be patient with me.”

Braelin chuckled, leaning into the contact before the King pulled away.

“I-!” Malson sputtered again.

Feyl composed himself, wiping at a genuine tear as he said, “You’re really threatening the wrong person, Lord Malson. Jurao is being completely genuine when he says he’s taking your threat seriously - no matter how unlikely it is that you could follow through…”

“... lord!?” the former crown prince asked.

“Technically, it isn’t official until tomorrow,” Feyl sighed, Jurao listening as he changed in the other room, “But Braelin was granted a title to go with his station as Royal Gardener, and it’s been extended to all his family members. So, congratulations, you are once more the peer of nobility. Demon nobility, but still.”

“What’s going on tomorrow!?” Malson demanded.

“A big ceremony,” Braelin sighed, “I… had surgery recently, so it’s a combination of celebrating my health, acknowledging my peerage, and High Priest Milve welcoming me as a member of the demon plant goddess’s faithful.”

“You hate ceremonies!” Malson scoffed, “And what do you-!”

“Can’t be helped,” Braelin cut him off, “The demon court is really upset about the whole… human everything.”

“More or less,” Feyl agreed readily, “The ceremony is primarily to appease the conservative faction, who are most strongly opposed to Braelin and the rest of you.”

Jurao returned to the receiving room and added, “I do wish there was another way to handle it.”

“It’s fine,” his partner said, leaning into his side and taking one of his hands as soon as the King sat down.

Malson huffed, but instead of commenting on the motion, demanded, “You could hear that!?”

“Demons have really good hearing,” Braelin explained as usual, “You might like Ascension, Malson - if Jurao and Feyl don’t mind teaching you.”

“Sure,” Feyl shrugged, “Can’t end up like it did when Jurao taught you…”

“A strategy game, huh!?” Malson snorted.

They did spend the rest of the night teaching Malson the basics of Ascension, Braelin comparing it to Castles to help his brother grasp the rules more quickly. After the former prince and Jurao’s best friend had left, the King and his partner headed to bed.

“Are you alright,” Jurao asked as they both laid down.

“No,” Braelin sighed, pressing himself against the King’s chest, “Yes? I’m… tired.”

Jurao hummed, wrapping his arms around his partner, “You don’t want to discuss collapsing with your brother.”

“No, but I’ll have to eventually,” Braelin sighed, “He doesn’t seem eager to talk about it yet either, so right now, I just want to focus on getting through tomorrow.”

“Alright,” the King sighed, “Let me know if there’s more I can do.”

“I will,” his partner yawned, “Thank you for not getting mad at him.”

“He’s just worried about you,” Jurao said, “I understand. You’ve both been through a lot.”

Braelin hummed, and they both slipped off to sleep.

Jurao skipped training the next morning, not wanting to leave his partner on what promised to be an exhausting day when Braelin was undoubtedly having complicated emotions at his brother’s return. Unlike usual, Feyl helped them both prepare for the day.

“It’s a ceremony in your honor,” the valet sighed, having Braelin sit so he could style the human’s hair, “You have to look the part - finery is the armor of nobility, you know.”

“The right clothes for the right job,” Braelin sighed, “Dad used to say that.”

“And he was right,” Feyl snorted, “It’s just as important as what you wear when gardening. When you go up on that stage today, you’re not Braelin the gardener – you’re Lord Braelin the Royal Gardener, Beloved of Iescula, romantic partner of the Demon King.”

Braelin sighed - but smiled, “Thank you, Feyl. I’m not sure if that will work for me as well as it does for you, but thank you.”

Jurao hummed in question, already dressed in his own finery - they would be having a light breakfast in the gardens with the other Department Heads and Braelin’s family before the ceremony began, so had no need to wait.

“He means how I switch between Feyl the Valet and just plain Feyl,” his best friend replied.

“Ah,” Jurao nodded, “Your performance.”

Feyl snorted, “Indeed. There, done.”

Braelin got to his feet, examining himself in the mirror - Feyl had pulled his hair half up, secured with a decorative pin, and braided in the back. Simple but effective. He wore the formal clothing that had been prepared for his station in the brown the Gardening Department had been assigned - a simply cut jacket with cuffed sleeves and wide-legged pants paired with a wide, grass-woven belt.

Jurao thought it suited him well, despite his partner’s preference for working clothing. Getting to his feet, he asked, “Shall we go.”

“Nothing else for it,” his partner sighed, “I suppose I’m glad demons don’t have a preference for face paint…”

“Some enjoy it, but it would be seen as tacky to wear it to a formal event,” Feyl replied, “You’d more likely see it used at informal and smaller social events.”

“Ah,” Braelin said, walking next to the King as usual, “It was usually reserved for formal events in Jost and mostly worn by women - though other countries had different traditions.”

“The idea of gendered clothing and fashion is still odd to me,” Feyl said, walking slightly behind them, “If it looks good, it looks good, doesn’t it?”

Jurao smiled as he listened to them, glad his partner and best friend got along so well.