The twins and Owren did stop by for the midday meal - as well as Feyl and Minaz. While Jurao had brought over the larger table in anticipation of his guests, his valet and Right Hand chose to sit on the couch and chairs in front of the hearth. Braelin did not rouse at their entry, but the nurse - Imao - said that was no cause for alarm.

“So you’re taking the week, huh?” Minaz snorted, “I’m surprised, but I think it’s the right call.”

“I spoke with Nosu in their temple in the library,” Jurao replied, “It was on their advice.”

“Can’t argue with the deity of wisdom,” Feyl chuckled, sitting up in his seat with the crowd present, “Especially when they’re your patron.”

“You,” Meir’ril blinked several times, “Spoke with your deity of wisdom? Directly?”

“Yes,” Jurao nodded, “Though it is not common for deities to inhabit their shrines to speak directly with supplicants - it is most likely my position as King that allowed for it.”

“Guess that makes sense,” Ayelma shrugged, “But a temple in a library?”

“I was also surprised to learn of it,” the King said.

“I know the library back…” Meir’ril cleared his throat, “Back in Jost had a small statue to Orvine, the God of Wisdom, but not a full temple.”

“That’s pretty odd in general,” Minaz added, “Temples inside of another building, that is. There are only three you’ll even find inside the walls of most cities.”

“Really?” Meir’ril asked, eyes alight with curiosity.

Ayelma rolled her eyes but smiled.

“Most demon temples are independent fortresses,” Feyl went on, “The more popular ones are usually still within a day’s walk of a city, but the goal is that those wishing to ask the gods for aid must first prove themselves worthy of it by completing trials for entry. Reaching Iescula’s temple is the trial in itself - it’s surrounded by a wild forest.”

“Braelin would probably have no trouble,” Minaz snorted, “But don’t any of you go carelessly approaching any wild plant growth - it’s dangerous.”

“So I’ve gathered,” Owren sniffed dryly, “Fool boy describes how the gardens handle unwanted guests like a proud parent… nevermind how gory the details may be…”

“Which temples are in the city?” Meir’ril asked, changing the subject with a nervous chuckle.

“Here in Ae°calikaslavven, only the temples of Maenscul, the Deity of Kings, their twin Vouscu, the Deity of the Hearth, and Vemera, Goddess of Judgment,” Jurao replied, “Though Carvve mentioned that there is a temple to Nosu within Vouscu’s - but they are in a queerplatonic marriage, so that is not so strange.”

“I don’t think there are any dedicated temples to Vislaelos, either,” Minaz added, “They’re all in Soken’s Temples.”

“I’m sorry,” Ayelma held up a hand, “A what kind of marriage?”

“Ah, right, there is not a human equivalent,” Jurao frowned, trying to remember how Alae explained it previously.

“It’s a committed relationship based in deep platonic feelings,” Feyl supplied, “Which is absent of romantic feelings and may or may not involve sex, and it may include similar elements as romantic relationships.”

Owren snorted, “Known a couple people like that - like Lira and Saera.”

“Oh!” Ayelma said, “Yeah, they were like that! People thought they were a couple all the time, but they weren’t - not romantically, anyway. You could tell if you actually knew them.”

Meir’ril chuckled, “I’m sure they would have been happy to know about some culture having a word for it.”

“Jost’s castle librarians,” Owren supplied, then sighed, “Not that anyone asked…”

Before more could be said on the matter, Jurao felt Braelin’s hand tighten in his own before his partner stirred, waking up with a yawn.

“Good afternoon,” Jurao said, getting up and using two of his free hands to arrange the bed cushions so his partner could sit up, “I invited your family for the midday meal.”

“Hm,” Braelin said, not releasing the King’s hand as he blinked groggily at the room in general, “Afternoon.”

Imao rose from where she’d been sitting on the far side of the room, but seemed hesitant, “Now is a good time to administer his medication.”

“Go ahead,” Jurao said, retaking his seat.

“How are you feeling?” Ayelma asked, leaning up in her chair.

“Floaty,” Braelin replied, reaching up with his free hand and smiling when he touched the flower crown, “What were you all talking about?”

“Demon temples,” Meir’ril replied, “Though we got a little off-topic.”

“Wait,” Ayelma said, “I just thought of - if the temple to the deity of romantic love isn’t in the city, do people have to prove themselves to get married?”

“What do you mean?” Minaz asked.

Meir’ril cleared his throat lightly, “Back in Jost, people would be wed at the nearest temple to Elmira, the Goddess of Love. I believe my sister means to ask-”

Ayelma scoffed and stuck her tongue out at her twin.

“What the demon practice is, if it differs,” Meir’ril rolled his eyes in reply.

Jurao was listening to the conversation but also paying attention as Imao softly explained his partner’s medications as she administered them. There were only two, a sedative that came in small clay bottles and pain-reducing tea - Imao had put a kettle over the fire some time ago in anticipation of brewing it.

“Oh,” Minaz snorted, “Yeah, weddings usually start at Vemera’s temple - since it’s more of a civil thing. A member of the clergy for Vislaelos usually has a place there since the clergy of Maenscul remains at their temple and Nosu’s at Vouscu’s temple.”

“What do you mean by that?” Meir’ril asked, clearly intrigued.

“The Demon Realm has three main kinds of marriages,” Feyl supplied, “And each is the purview of a different deity. Maenscul is the Deity of Kings, but their domain also includes sexual relationships, so they oversee formal marriages of that kind.”

“S-” Meir’ril paused, “Sexual marriages?”

Braelin chuckled softly, “I was also surprised by that.”

“Well, it’s the third component of what makes every demon,” Feyl snorted, and started counting them off, “Maenscul crafted our bodies out of clay, Vislaelos’s mother Carmesso gave us hearts so those clay forms would never dry out, and Nosu gave us souls by making our heads as kilns to carry a flame.”

“So there are three main relationships,” Minaz took over, “Earth relationships based on the compatibility of the body, water relationships based on the compatibility of the heart, and fire relationships based on the compatibility of the soul. Sexual, romantic, and queerplatonic.”

“Huh,” Meir’ril said, “I… can see how that works.”

Owren snorted, “Lot of folks would be a lot happier if they didn’t think of romantic love as the only way to go about finding a partner… or at least had the sense to see the marriage part is a civil matter…”

“Though, of course, that’s just the first part of getting married,” Minaz chuckled, “You declare your relationship before Vemera and the deity that presides over the domain of your kind of relationship, and if they’ve no objections, you’ll arrange a date for the actual joining ceremony with the clergy of Maenscul, Nosu, or Vislaelos. Many have sexual marriages in Maenscul’s temple, queerplatonic marriages in Voucsu’s temple, and romantic marriages in Vemera’s temple.”

“Nobles tend to be a bit more ostentatious,” Feyl grinned, “Usually having the ceremony in a castle or estate.”

“What happens if they have an objection?” Meir’ril asked.

“Well, they don’t usually have one,” Minaz shrugged, “So I’m not really sure.”

“It would have to be something particularly serious for a deity to feel a need to intervene,” Jurao added, “So I imagine it would depend on the reason they objected.”

“That makes sense,” Meir’ril nodded.

“Braelin,” Jurao said as Imao finished with the medication, “I have some news for you - your older brother is on his way to the Demon Realm with the former captain of the guard.”

His partner had pulled a face at the taste of the medicinal tea, but it smoothed into a smile as he said, “That’s good to hear.”

“You should be mostly recovered by the time they arrive,” the King added.

Braelin nodded with a hum, eyelids drooping already, but said, “You never explained what a Right Hand is.”

In the meantime, Imao handed the man a bowl of broth, “Please try to eat before you fall asleep again.”

Jurao would have helped support the bowl, as his partner seemed hesitant to release their clasped hands - but Petal shuffled up the bed and beat him to it.

Minaz chuckled as she watched, “Alright, so it starts with the origin of Vemera - Maenscul is, as Deity of Kings, the King of the Deities - however…”

“They don’t like work,” Feyl snorted, “Unlike our own industrious Jurao, spending most his days on endless administrative paperwork.”

“Sounds like Dad,” Ayelma snorted, and affected a straight, stolid posture to say, “The real work of a king is done behind a desk, Aya. It’s not glamorous, but a country runs on ink and paper.”

Braelin laughed, then winced, “He never said the second one.”

“He might as well have,” his sister scoffed - but with a smile.

“He does love paperwork, though,” Owren snorted, “Never met another person so excited to discuss a filing system.”

“You should talk to my partner, then,” Minaz huffed, “Hujur will go starry-eyed over a proper appendix.”

“Yeah, he will…” Feyl agreed, eyes widening in some form of significance.

“‘They filed in triplicate, Min,’” Minaz affected Hujur’s voice in a wistful tone, “‘With cross-references!’”

“Oh wow,” Meir’ril laughed, “That sounds like something our Dad would say! Though… maybe not so enthusiastically…”

“Braelin’s actually the one that looks the most like Dad,” Ayelma said, resting her chin in a palm, “They’ve got similar personalities, too.”

“‘Sept the nose,” Owren said, tapping his own, which was similar in shape to Braelin’s, “That he got from Aesly. It’s a Laely nose for sure.”

“Anyway,” Minaz chuckled, “Since they don’t like work and apparently even the Divine Realm has paperwork, they cut off one of their right hands to do the work for them. Because there was no other deity suited to the task and none that would do it as Maenscul wished.”

“They left their hand alone for a long time, by divine standards,” Feyl shrugged, “Most tales state that the hand would, in the beginning, bring any work needing more than a simple signature back to Maenscul, and they told it to just decide what it thought they would choose. Over time, it gained an independent consciousness.”

“At some point, a minor deity approached Maenscul to ask about the new goddess turning down their requests,” Minaz took over, “And in confusion, they went to check on their hand - finding it had grown into a goddess of its own - Vemera, the Goddess of Judgment. Though, as an independent goddess, she no longer made judgments based solely on what she thought Maenscul would prefer - but on what she felt was best as well with consideration for Maenscul’s will.”

“But, since she was still the right hand of Maenscul,” Feyl said, “They trusted her implicitly to make the best choice in their place, even if it was not exactly what they would have done.”

“So, in summary,” she went on, “A Right Hand is someone whose judgment you trust in place of your own, should you need to take leave of your position.”

“When Jurao was on his Union Campaign, Minaz was basically a…” Feyl hummed, considering the word.

“Regent,” Jurao supplied, “Minaz is my designated regent.”

“Sooo,” Ayelma leaned back in her chair, “A Right Hand is someone who knows you well enough to know what you’d want but still has the capacity to make their own decisions?”

“More or less,” Minaz shrugged.

“That makes sense,” Braelin said, “It didn’t seem like an advisory position, exactly.”

“No, but I do appreciate Minaz’s advice,” Jurao said.

“Thanks,” his Right Hand chuckled, “When Jurao is here, my position is more or less as an advisor, though I’d also be in charge of the Royal Guard… if we had one.”

“Wait, you don’t have a Royal Guard?” Meir’ril asked.

“Well, no one is strong enough to guard Jurao,” Feyl chuckled, “Or any Demon King, really. The Royal Guard is usually employed to protect spouses and children at the King’s discretion - which Jurao has neither, though…”

“Huh,” Minaz cupped her chin, “Yeah, I guess so, huh?”

“Hm,” Jurao questioned.

Feyl rolled his eyes, “Please learn to ask a question.”

“That was a question?” Ayelma arched a brow, “How could you tell?”

“Because I’ve known Jurao for over a millennium,” his best friend replied, then sighed, “Since Braelin is your partner, technically, the people assigned to him and his family should be moved to the Royal Guard. At least, as long as you’re courting.”

“I’ll talk to Gnori about it,” Minaz waved a hand.

As the conversation went on, Braelin drifted back to sleep - Petal setting the half-eaten broth on the table before shuffling back to the foot of the bed.

It really was reassuring - to feel his partner’s hand in his own while sharing a meal with the man’s family and his friends.

Maybe tomorrow, he thought, I’ll ask Aunt Nevve to join, as well.