Doctor Zede had passed along more specific instructions regarding Braelin’s return to duty during the week. While he could not return to working straight away, walking the gardens at a leisurely pace to build his strength back up was recommended. Only short walks for the first week or so, working up to his usual pace by the end of the month.
Of course, Jurao was also returning to duty and would meet up with his partner after the Heads of Staff breakfast for the first day’s walk.
“So, how is he?” Gavven asked as Jurao took his seat.
“Welcome back, your highness,” Festi snorted, but with a small smile.
“Oh, where are my manners?” Gavven giggled, “Yes, welcome back!”
“Thank you,” Jurao nodded to them, “Braelin’s recovery has gone smoothly. I’ll be going with him to the gardens after breakfast, though he has not yet returned to work.”
“At least then they should stop moping,” Festi huffed, “Though they never got as bad as when he first collapsed.”
“The staff that transferred over seemed to like Owren, though,” Jouvi added, “Or maybe just liked watching a High Priest get scolded by a human…”
Jurao understood the appeal, but thought it would be rude to say so.
“Though…” Jouvi hummed, “Seeing the gardens upset seems to have made the new staff less afraid of them, so there’s a little benefit there.”
“The whole court is talking about the upcoming ceremony,” Kloy said, then chuckled, “Though I imagine Braelin isn’t as enthused by the idea.”
“He is not,” Jurao agreed.
“Is he even going to be able to get through a ceremony with everyone watching him?” Festi asked.
“He has to,” Vajur scoffed, “Not like he’s afraid of demons anyway…”
“Yeah, but he freezes right up when too many people pay attention to him at once,” Festi rolled their eyes, “He couldn’t even walk in here the first day because we were all looking at him…”
Vajur scoffed again - then frowned, “Wait, seriously?”
“Jurao had to ask us all to look away,” Minaz chuckled, “You really wouldn’t think it with how easily he speaks up for himself. He doesn’t carry himself like he’s much smaller and weaker than most of us, either.”
“Of course not,” Vajur said, “By human standards, he’s not small. You don’t just unlearn that kind of instinctive bearing once it’s set in.”
Gnori slammed a fist on the table, “He’s still so damned quiet though!”
“Big and loud are two different things,” Vajur rolled his eyes, “His highness is quiet, but he’s the biggest one here, isn’t he?”
Gnori opened his mouth to reply - but ultimately grumbled and kept his peace.
Breakfast passed with more discussion of what Jurao had missed during his time off and soon enough came to a close. As they’d planned, the King met his partner at the back entrance to the castle - the nurse on duty bowing before stepping away as he approached.
“How are you feeling,” Jurao asked, offering his partner a hand up from his seat.
“Ready to be out of bed,” Braelin sighed, accepting the assistance, “But still tired.”
Jurao smiled and tousled his gardener’s hair, “I’m sure the gardens are eager to see you.”
“And I them,” the human smiled and started walking toward the door. His pace was slower than usual, but the King had expected that.
It was no surprise to see the Labyrinthine Hedge burst into bloom as their caretaker appeared. Braelin stopped to pat the nearest bushes before settling on his usual walkthrough route. The plants leaned toward him as usual - and his new staff members also came up to greet them. They seemed more at ease with the gardens than last Jurao had seen them, though it had only been a few days.
They took their first long break in the Bewitching Garden, utilizing the benches next to the shrine.
“Those are… a significant amount of offerings,” Braelin observed, panting lightly from the short walk.
“Most do not get the opportunity to offer thanks to Iescula directly,” Jurao said, carefully rubbing his partner’s back to offer some comfort.
It was true, though - many had brought the kinds of offerings Milve had specified. Mostly, stones of various sizes that had been piled around Iescula’s likeness, some spilling out in front of the shrine to leave a clear area in front of the statue. Flowers and greenery had been left around the stones at odd intervals, as well as a fruit or two.
“I’m mostly surprised,” Braelin smiled, “There are a few offerings for… Dwarla and Wylylendra as well.”
“Ah,” the King nodded, spotting them as well - a few fruits on a plate before the wooden statue of the human goddess. Some of the fire blossoms and static blooms had been placed around the glass statue of the elven god.
“That was mostly us,” one of the gardening staff members said, looking a little sheepish, “I saw one of the hydras knock a fruit towards the human deity statue, so I brought a few later. It seemed to… cheer them up?”
One of the Crystal Hydra trees above them shook a branch, little balls of light floating down like snow. Petal ambled out to try and catch them with its tendrils, which made the new gardening staff member laugh.
“And I thought since the plants here are arcane hybrids, it would be nice to offer something to the elven deity,” another staff member offered, stepping up next to their coworker.
“I’m sure,” Braelin took a final deep breath to even out his prior panting before continuing, “I’m sure they appreciate it - the gardens and the deities. Ah…?”
“Exkla,” the first replied, bowing slightly, “Iescula is actually my patron; that’s why I became a groundskeeper. I’m really grateful for the opportunity to learn from one of her Beloved, sir… ah, Braelin.”
“And I’m Lajeo,” the other added, “I… don’t have a special reason for joining the department, really.”
“Where are you from, Exkla,” Jurao asked. To have Iescula as a patron, one would need to be born while their settlement was under siege - he did not recall any recent sieges.
“Actually,” they chuckled nervously, “I was born in Vede.”
“In the Human Realm?” Braelin asked, equally surprised.
Exkla nodded, “My vokes was one of the servants brought along by Lord Makke during his tenure as ambassador - a border city they visited ended up under siege, which is when he had me. Said he couldn’t think of a better patron for his daughter, except maybe Sciekles!”
Braelin smiled at the story - then hummed, “Does being Beloved make Iescula my patron? Or is it only by birth?”
“Iescula did mention that Dwarla allowed her to bring you here,” Jurao reasoned, “I would say she has claimed you as one of hers.”
“Dwarla is the human plant goddess, right?” Lajeo asked, “And the elven one is… uh…”
“Wylylendra,” Braelin supplied, “We should probably get some name plates for them… approximate as best as possible, at least.”
“We’ll leave a note in the office,” Lajeo promised, then added, “It’s good to see you’re doing well, sir.”
“Thank you,” Braelin nodded, then asked, “Have you been able to learn a lot from my uncle?”
“A lot of new insults, definitely,” the third gardener, actually working on clearing debris, snorted from nearby.
“He’s very knowledgeable,” Exkla added diplomatically, “But a bit…”
“Grumpy?” Braelin offered with a chuckle, “I understand.”
After briefly recounting what they’d learned from Owren, Braelin felt up to continuing the walk through the gardens. They made it through the Embracing and Mocking Gardens before stopping for another rest in the Pond Garden’s Gazebo.
This was also where they ran into Owren and High Priest Milve.
“Finally up and about, eh?” Owren asked, joining them in the gazebo. He sat with a groan, rubbing at his hip.
“Yes,” Braelin replied, “Artetica acting up?”
“Gotten worse over the years,” his uncle sighed, “T’be expected, though. Just the way of it.”
“I am glad to see my Lady’s Beloved recovered,” Milve said neutrally, standing by one of the two entrances to the shelter.
“Thank you,” Braelin said begrudgingly.
Owren snorted, “See? This is why I’m glad to not be a noble - don’ need to play nice like that. Look like you swallowed a lemon, boy.”
Braelin hummed a little and shrugged, but a small smile crept into his expression.
Milve huffed and his tail twitched, but he made no comment.
“Still,” Owren sniffed, “The resident High Priest has stopped actin’ too big for his britches and is makin’ a big formal apology, so’s just manners to try an’ meet halfway, eh?”
“Yes, Uncle,” Braelin said unenthusiastically, sparing Milve a glance.
The High Priest’s cheeks darkened with a slight blush before he cleared his throat to - though it clearly pained him - say, “I… was too hasty in my judgment based on your humanity. It is clear you see my Lady’s children in the same light She does, and I am… grateful for the opportunity to learn.”
“... thank you,” Braelin said, seeming more surprised than anything else.
Jurao understood the feeling - it was a significant change from his initial behavior. However, there was something else bothering the Demon King. He asked, “Why would someone wear breeches that are too small.”
Braelin started laughing, leaning into his partner’s side.
“What are you laughing at?” Owren shook his head, but there was a warmth in his tone as he said, “You asked the same question when you were a boy, boy.”
“I know,” Braelin chuckled, “Still.”
“... I did not quite understand the meaning of the phrase,” Milve admitted, “Though I did understand it to be metaphorical.”
Owren shook his head but explained, “It means someone’s ego’s gotten so big they can’t fit in their pants anymore ’cause they’re full of it,” the man glanced at Milve, “Or tunic, I ‘spose.”
Once more, Milve blushed and his tail twitched, but he did not voice his embarrassment.
Perhaps there is something to the rumors that he has a romantic interest, Jurao thought, wrapping an arm around his partner’s waist as Braelin chose to remain leaned into his side. Aloud, he said, “Thank you for explaining.”
“Well, how else were you t’know?” Owren huffed, “Explained plenty to that one growing up… basically a second profession by now…”
“How has the planting been going?” Braelin asked, shifting the conversation.
After catching up about Owren’s efforts planting human crops - demon soil being high in iron, which gave it its red coloring, making some plants more challenging than others - Jurao and Braelin continued their walk through the gardens. Milve accompanied Owren in checking over the work of the new gardeners, though he spared Petal a sigh as the Crushfern ambled past him.
“Your own fault,” Owren huffed at the priest, “Would you stay with someone who starved you half to death once there was a better option?”
“I can’t fault that logic,” Milve sighed again, falling into step next to the older gardener.
Braelin frowned at the pair, but rolled his eyes and said to himself, “Not my business.”
Jurao chuckled, supporting his partner’s side as they walked on.
The King left Braelin on the back veranda - light reading and refreshments were already prepared, and Jurao knew his partner would be glad for the change in scenery. The King would take the midday meal in his office as he caught up on work, but he knew Braelin’s family would most likely join him so he would not be alone.
They spent the next few weeks of his partner’s recovery in the same fashion - the morning walks taking less time as Braelin’s strength returned, until Jurao left his partner to do so alone. He still joined his gardener and Braelin’s family members for the midday meal - usually in the cottage or on the back veranda - and Nevve joined them when she could. His aunt seemed to enjoy the family atmosphere as much as he did - or perhaps just trading sarcasm with Owren.
Ayelma was becoming a proficient rider, and Meir’ril had started a friendship with Exkla to practice his Demonae. Not being born in the Demon Realm, she actually spoke Veden around Braelin, and knew Imperial as well - either simply came across as Demonae to other demons. He was not surprised to discover Braelin knew Veden because it allowed him the best access to knowledge about demon plants in the Human Realm.
Jurao attended a few court events to get his own idea of what to expect with the upcoming ceremony, and did notice more younger members of the court approached him than ever before. Some admitted to finding him too intimidating to approach previously, which seemed odd to Jurao, but Feyl pointed out that his stoic personality could come across as cold to those who did not know him well. Older court members were still courteous, but he could sense the tension in the way they kept to themselves and whispered behind their thick, muffling hand fans.
Overall, though, he felt confident that things would work out in the end.
