“Oh no,” Forvi sighed with a smile, “They are cute.”

“I did warn you,” Feyl chuckled.

“You did,” the prince agreed, then asked, “Are you going to carry the bed out to the gardens again?”

“What would you prefer,” Jurao asked his partner.

Braelin sighed, closing his eyes, “It would be nice to visit all the gardens, but… if the political situation at court is like that,” he yawned, “And I’ll be asleep anyway, it would probably be best to stay here. The gardens talk to each other, so they’ll all know… I’m fine…”

The King brushed his gardener’s hair back and said, “Alright then.”

“And what do you plan to do in the meantime, Jurao?” Forvi asked.

“I will be here,” Jurao replied, “I took some time away after consulting with Nosu.”

“Yeah,” the prince sighed, “Dad consulted with Maenscul about once a month… never got less weird to think about, actually. Him talking about Maenscul so casually, that is.”

“Jurao spoke to Maenscul, Nosu, and Vouscu at the same time in his dreams,” Feyl snorted.

“All three?” Forvi chuckled nervously.

“Nosu is my patron,” Jurao explained, “Maenscul was trying to determine my patron, and Vouscu arrived to see why they were speaking with Maenscul for so long.”

“Well, that’s… less ominous than I imagined,” the prince sighed. He moved Feyl out of his lap to rise and stretch, “Since I’m here, I’ll see if I can find any helpful court information.”

“Much appreciated,” Feyl said, getting to his own hooves, “As talented as I am, I am but one valet.”

“Thank you, Forvi,” Jurao said, considering what he would do for the day.

As he’d thought to do yesterday, he asked a runner to take his aunt an invitation to join in the midday meal with himself and Braelin’s family. In the intervening time, he alternated between reading aloud to his dozing partner and working on picking his lock. The feeling that he was meant to be somewhere else persisted, but with less intensity as he found comfort in seeing that Braelin was recovering well.

“Two meals together in the same year, and neither on my or your birthday?” Nevve said by way of greeting when she arrived, “You think I’m about to die or something, kid?”

“Why would I think that,” Jurao frowned.

“It’s a joke about all of this quality family time,” his Aunt laughed, then looked around the room before introducing herself, “I’m Nevve, Head Civil Smith and Jurao’s aunt. Raised him after his moms passed.”

“Hello,” Ayelma grinned, “I’m Ayelma, Braelin’s sister - and this is my twin, Meir’ril.”

Her twin brother nodded with a noncommittal noise, focused on a book he’d brought on basic demon history.

Owren rolled his eyes before saying, “Owren, Braelin’s uncle.”

Nevve sniffed, taking the last open seat at the table before saying, “Yeah? Rumor is that stuffy high priest is sweet on you.”

Ayelma choked on her drink in surprise.

Meir’ril was too absorbed in his reading to notice.

Owren scoffed, “He’s doing an incredible job of hiding it - wouldn’ matter if it were true, anyway.”

“Are there really rumors like that?” Braelin asked, yawning before adding, “Milve didn’t seem fond of humans in general.”

“Eh, he’s a traditionalist,” Nevve waved a hand but grinned as she added, “But it’s pretty common for demons to catch some form of attraction to people who put them in their place - especially if they weren’t expecting it.”

Owren rolled his eyes again, “Too old for that kind of headache. ‘Sides, I’m… taken.”

Ayelma gasped in delight, “You said it!”

Braelin smiled at his uncle’s admission, but didn’t comment.

“What’s the point anymore?” Owren huffed, “With the lot of you bullying an old man like me… and what with how brazen these two are…”

“Are you bullying your elders, brat?” Nevve asked, clearly amused.

“I don’t think so,” Jurao replied.

“Damn,” Nevve sighed, “Thought I taught you how to do it pretty well.”

Owren actually laughed at that, “Can’t deny some elders need bullying - not like we weren’t talking about one of them…”

“Demons often have multiple relationships,” Braelin spoke up, “So if you need to turn Milve down, just saying you have a partner might not get the message across.”

“Oh, do humans not do that?” Nevve asked.

“Not usually,” Ayelma chuckled, “At least, not in Jost.”

“Huh,” Nevve shrugged, “But yeah - if you told Milve you have a partner and nothing else, he’d just see it as a consideration, not a dismissal.”

“Doubt I’ll be telling him in the first place,” Owren grumbled, “You’re the ones assuming he has an interest based on rumors, yeah?”

Nevve snorted, “Now, where have I heard something like that before?”

Jurao felt his tail swish in embarrassment at the reminder of his own oblivious behavior, “One set of rumors proving to be true does not mean others will.”

“What rumors?” Ayelma asked around a mouthful of food.

“The ones that Jurao liked Braelin before he realized it himself,” Nevve snorted, then added, “Can’t really blame him, though - romantic feelings are weird enough when you’re used to them.”

Ayelma finished what she’d been eating before saying in glee, “Oh, that reminds me - I can’t wait to see Malson’s reaction to all of this!”

“Who?” Nevve asked.

“Our older brother,” Braelin replied, chuckling, “We used to joke he had enough romantic misadventures for the both of us since I wasn’t interested in anyone before Jurao.”

“He fell in love with a new person like once a week!” Ayelma said, waving a hand and almost hitting her twin in the face.

“Whoa,” Meir’ril said, looking up and blinking in surprise, “Aya!”

“Sorry,” his sister laughed sheepishly, “I was talking about how Malson was such a romantic.”

“He does write good poetry,” Meir’ril chuckled sheepishly - then seemed to notice Nevve and blushed as he asked, “Oh, um, sorry, were we introduced?”

Nevve laughed, “I’m Jurao’s aunt, Nevve - your sister introduced you, don’t worry.”

“Sorry,” Meir’ril said anyway, then asked, “Why were you talking about Malson being a romantic?”

“I was thinking about how he would react to Braelin and Jurao courting,” his sister snorted.

“Oh,” Meir’ril replied, then looked a little sad as he asked, “You don’t think he’ll forbid it, do you…?”

“What? No way!” Ayelma said, leaning up in her chair, “He can’t!”

Forbid? Jurao wondered.

“I mean, it doesn’t really matter if he does,” Braelin said easily, “Since I’ll just tell him he doesn’t need to.”

“Uh… what?” Meir’ril asked.

Owren snorted, “You brats never got a chance to catch onto that, did ya?”

“Malson only ‘forbids’ me from doing things I didn’t want to do anyway. He just threw a fit so Dad had a reason to excuse me,” Braelin replied, then frowned, “Did you both think he was… arbitrarily stopping me from doing things?”

“Uh…” Ayelma tittered as she sat back.

“Well,” Meir’ril scratched at his chin.

“Was the least the boy could do,” Owren rolled his eyes, “After bein’ the one to drag Braelin to noble lessons n’ all that, he’s the reason the brat got obligated to go to more events.”

“Yeah, but…” Meir’ril seemed to hesitate.

“That’s how you and Ben got together, right?” Ayelma asked, eyes shining again, “Because he was teaching Braelin combat with Malson, right?”

“Aya…” Meir’ril said in concern - clearly having also missed Owren admitting his relationship earlier.

“Combat,” Jurao asked, looking to his partner.

Braelin shrugged with a half-smile, “Just some basic polearm work, and I was never really good at it.”

“That… was the start of it, yeah,” Owren admitted.

“What?” Meir’ril’s eyes widened in surprise, “You…”

Ayelma cackled, “Uncle said we’ve bullied him into admitting he and Ben are together.”

“Were, more like,” Owren huffed, “Been fifteen years, no way a either of us knowin’ the other was alive… can’t always just pick up like nothin’...”

“Fifteen years is a long time for humans, huh,” Nevve said thoughtfully, then grinned, “Well, you could always consider Milve as an alternative if it doesn’t work out.”

“The… mean High Priest?” Meir’ril asked, expression lost.

“Apparently, there are rumors he likes Uncle,” Ayelma laughed.

Owren rolled his eyes, “‘Spose he is working to apologize for bein’ an ass, at least.”

Braelin frowned, “Ugh.”

“You don’ get a say,” Owren replied, “I’ve finished raisin’ you; now I get to do what I want.”

“Fair enough,” Braelin sighed, then said, “But… Milve?”

“Well, I’m not sayin’ I am interested,” his uncle replied, “Cause I’m not. But if I were, it would be no business of yours.”

This is nice, Jurao thought. He’d never been much of a conversationalist, so when it had been just him and his aunt sharing meals growing up, there hadn’t been much said between them. But he enjoyed the easy banter between Braelin, his uncle, and the twins - perhaps taking the midday meal with all of them and his aunt more often would be good.

It was certainly true that he and Nevve had spent far less time together - starting when he’d first joined the army after becoming an adult. Most demons did not keep close ties with their relatives through adulthood, so he hadn’t thought anything of it until seeing the relationship Braelin and his family shared as adults.

The conversation turned to how the new gardeners were doing, and Nevve shared some stories about the Civil Smiths - Ayelma excited recalled what happened at her riding lessons, while Meir’ril more reservedly asked after the historical and cultural events he’d been reading about.

As the week of his partner’s bed rest went on, Jurao found he was enjoying the shared meals - occasionally joined by a combination of Feyl, Minaz, or Forvi, depending on their schedules. He enjoyed hearing how the twins and Owren were settling in and how all the smiths were doing. Feyl and Forvi kept him aware of the situation at court, though there had been no major changes in such a short time. Minaz covered anything pertinent from the other Department Heads.

“There is officially a Royal Guard now,” she said during the meal on the last day of Braelin’s bed rest period, “Feels good to have some fighters under my command again - tapped some soldiers I trust for a better rotation, too.”

“Thank you, Minaz,” Jurao replied.

She waved from the couch, “You’re welcome, though this actually is my job. Hujur has already finished his research for the big garden event, so he’s happily diving into all the paperwork.”

Braelin sighed, “Do you know what it’s going to entail yet?”

“There’s a stage being set up in the Rose Cage Garden,” Feyl, sitting next to Minaz on the couch, said while flicking his hair over his shoulder, “The rough schedule is that Jurao will open the event by thanking everyone for attending and ceremonially acknowledging your peerage – which is being extended to your family, by the way.”

“Is that unusual?” Meir’ril asked.

“It’s uncommon to have a noble title extend laterally, but not unheard of,” Minaz supplied, “Usually only applies to situations like this.”

“For example, I’m still not nobility, even though Jurao has been for about a millennium,” Nevve said, then added, “And I’m not looking to be, either.”

“I’d rather be excluded,” Owren sighed, “But it sounds like that’s not really an option.”

“Not unless you want to forgo the protections noble status grants you,” Feyl snorted, “Like being able to pick a champion if someone challenges you to a formal duel.”

“Figured as much,” Owren sighed again.

“Nobility is still inherited, though,” Minaz said.

“Anyway,” Feyl said, “After the acknowledgment, his grace will say his piece and grant you status as an honorary Iesculan priest, and then there will be a few hours for those gathered to offer their congratulations and enjoy light refreshments.”

Braelin sighed, “I suppose that doesn’t sound too bad…”

“Normally, you’d have an opportunity to speak after Milve was done,” Minaz said, “But we figured you’d decline.”

“You’re right,” Braelin said.

“At least you get to start walking around again tomorrow,” Meir’ril offered.

His brother smiled, “Yes, there is that.”