Demon King's Gardener

The rest of the week, as expected, was focused on feast preparations. Huo'a was able to ferment a small batch of desire wine with the drakebloom nectar – as well as drakebloom wine by itself, and drakebloom and desire mead. They had been experimenting with creating mead with honey from the Royal Apiary after Eweylona had mentioned it to Jurao for the birthday feast. As it was common, they had made a few fruit and flower varieties, and planned to serve them at the feast as well.

The Golden Sun Feast would officially begin at noon, when the sun was at its highest point. The Grand Hall was decorated with white and rainbow banners, the replica of Maenscul's throne set in the middle of the round room under a stained glass opening in the roof that shone a dappled rainbow light down onto the floor. The Royal Table for the feast had been set upon a dais on one side of the room, and the King, his partner, Right Hand, and Steward were hours early to greet attendees as they entered the hall.

Musicians playing small pipes, rock drums, and flutes played from another side of the room – quietly for now, though they would play louder when the dancing began in earnest. While the feast dishes had not yet been brought out, staff members stood ready to serve smaller dishes and drinks to those who arrived early.

"It's just marvelous that you're hosting yourself this year, Your Highness!" Lady Dajor said, one of the earliest nobles to arrive, "And I am so pleased to be invited to the Royal Orgy itself, of course!"

The trollish noblewoman's shawl top was so sheer it was easily seen through, though this was common of feast attire, though her wrap skirt of the same white was more opaque. She wore her short pink hair up with a sun-styled pin on one side, with a few bracelets on either arm.

"Thank you for accepting our invitation, Lady Dajor," Jurao replied, a hand rubbing his betrothed's back already.

"Of course," the Head of the Stonemasons said, "I did wish to speak to you about the… new plant in the gardens. The… drakebloom, I believe?"

"His name is Bud," Braelin supplied, and inclined his head, "Lady Dajor."

"And," Forvi said, stepping forward with a bottle ready, "The Crown wished to present you with this gift, Lady Dajor. The nectar of drakebloom flowers has a powerful aphrodisiac effect, though it is lessened by distilling it into alcohol. This is one of the first Royal Meads, Nectar of Desire, made with a human method from honey, bells of desire, blanket fruit, and drakebloom flowers. As a thank you for all the hard work the stonemasons have been doing, including the cave for Bud."

Dajor's tail swished in pleasure as she accepted the bottle, asking, "Oh, my! And how many bottles are there tonight?"

"While there will be other meads offered," Forvi replied, taking a step back, "There are only twelve bottles of Nectar of Desire currently – there are also twelve bottles of Drake Bells, a traditional wine made with drakebloom nectar, but we assumed such an esteemed palette would recognize the charm in a new beverage."

Dajor tittered, tucking the bottle against her chest as she replied, "Of course, Your Highness! I am sure this will make a fine accompaniment to my meal!"

"Is it losven enough for you, Dajor?"

Dajor's usual smile dropped into a flat look – before she forced it back into place coldly and turned to say, "Noga, I didn't think someone like you would come to the feast so early."

Noga Gasciezaron growled. The traditional demon woman's white tunic fell to her knees and was secured with a bronze belt of sun symbols. Her bright red skin and black angular markings stood out sharply from the material. She ran a hand through her short-cropped white hair before she replied, "I wouldn't, if a poor excuse for a demon like you hadn't been invited to the Royal Orgy."

"Of course, we thank you for accepting the invitation to attend as well, Lady Noga," Jurao said, keeping an eye out as Snip crept forward, sniffing at Noga's older waste hound, Sargent.

Noga glanced at the pair before she said, "I take it you have a bottle of special gratitude for me as well, then, Your Highness?"

"Of course, Aunt Noga," Minaz said tiredly, taking a bottle of the nectar-infused wine from Imena to offer her.

"No pretty speech?" Noga asked, eyeing the bottle dubiously, "Though I suppose there's no point, since I'm not such a simpleton as to be won over with empty words."

"Oh, dearie," Dajor said, opening her fan and fluttering it before her face, "Whatever you need to tell yourself to feel better about no one actually wanting you here."

Noga sneered at her, then huffed and turned away, tail twitching in irritation.

Sargent didn't follow his mistress, appearing more interested in meeting Snip. Snap appeared curious, but remained seated at Jurao's side.

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"Sargent!" Noga called when she noticed her hound remained behind.

Sargent huffed – but did trot after her without further prompting.

Snip whined after him, returning to Jurao's other side.

"My, how very intriguing," Lord Goyl said, then he bowed, "And good morning, Your Highness."

Lady Dajor offered a small bow before walking away.

"Good morning, Lord Goyl," Jurao replied.

"I thought my brother was attending with you?" Braelin asked.

"Yes, but you see, his wife arranged for the Captain of the Guard to retrieve him," Goyl replied with a sly smile, "As the brother of the King's partner, you know."

Braelin smiled in turn, replying, "Ah, yes, of course."

Minaz snorted, glancing around before she said, "Hopefully it leads to them actually courting."

"I also intend to assist in that regard," Goyl said with a chuckle.

"I'm not sure who flusters him more," Forvi mused.

"Malson, most certainly," Goyl replied with a snort, "My advances may be more obvious, but that means he adjusted to them more quickly. He also still thinks I am joking when I am not."

"Nor your friends?" Forvi asked, arching a brow.

"Not for a bit of fun, at least," Goyl said, adjusting the singular band he wore on his upper right arm. He wore bronze bands on all four of his ram horns and more bands on his upper left arm. He added, "Though I think I am the only one considering a potential courtship – already courting Malson as I am."

After a moment, Imena asked, "Are you sure your older brother doesn't have magic, Braelin?"

Goyl laughed in surprise, letting his hand drop and clasping both hands behind his back before he said, "I am much changed, I know – and in such a short time. Not even a year."

"Malson does tend to have that effect," Braelin said.

"And here they are now," Goyl said – looking at one of the entrances as Malson and Gnori entered the hall.

Malson had a new leather chest binder – of white leather, visible under his more sheer top, which ended above his stomach, showing off his impressive collection of scars. He, too, had roughplay signal bands in addition to participation bracelets – primarily on his legs. Gnori – like Goyl – wore only a wrap skirt, like many other attendees. While Gnori had no roughplay bands, he did keep sneaking glances at Malson's – the pair awkwardly discussing weapons.

"Excuse me," Goyl said, offering a bow before walking over to join them.

"I don't think he knows what they mean," Braelin commented, petting Petal – the crushfern having climbed into his arms.

"Hm," Jurao asked.

"The bands," Braelin replied, pointing to his arm, "He said Jaevve planned his outfit, and it's not the sort of thing he would ask about."

"Ah," Jurao nodded, "Your parents also assumed he would not consider that wearing the bands would… communicate much."

Braelin snorted and mused, "He's not exactly great at keeping the things he likes to himself anyway. I would be surprised if the bands said anything he hasn't accidentally said himself by now…"

Forvi snorted as well and said, "Considering even I have heard him saying something, I suspect you're right, Braelin."

"Indeed," Eweylona said, approaching them with her arm in Ebener's. Her leopard tail twitched, but she smiled as she looked over at the trio and said, "Though it helps that we did not ask after more specific band meanings."

"Good morning," Jurao greeted.

"Good morning, Your Highness," Ebener said, and nodded to the throne, "Do you believe Maenscul will join the festivities?"

"They haven't done so since Lavven's time," Hujur replied, "So it is very unlikely. But they are always welcome, hence the throne."

"It would certainly help Jurao's reputation if they did," Feyl remarked – arriving with Kloy. The valet had, unusually, worn his hair up in an elaborate series of buns and braids with decorative sun clips.

Kloy, by contrast, had unusually worn his hair down – and, also by contrast, Jurao noted that their roughplay bands were almost an exact mirror of each other in style and placement. The physician chuckled, eyeing his gieuls in amusement as though having the same thought before he said, "You know, I do not think I would be surprised if they did decide to attend – though I wouldn't say I'm expecting it."

"Really?" Minaz asked, arching a brow at Feyl.

Feyl shrugged in reply – his purple eyes also trailing to Kloy's bands.

Kloy shrugged as well, saying, "His Highness is rather unique."

"I can't argue that," Minaz agreed with a snort.

"Good morning, Your Highness."

"Good morning, Lord Mascu," Jurao said – having expected Feyl's vokes to arrive early. While he and his coudus had not attended the main feast when Feyl hosted, having their own at the Sculi Estate, Feyl knew his fathers would not miss an opportunity to attend when the King himself was hosting.

Mascu was a traditional demon with yellow skin and white spotted markings, teal hair long and loose – naturally wavy down to his waist. He bowed to Jurao, then frowned at Feyl and asked, "You're wearing your hair like that?"

Voulmae – Mascu's coudus – sighed softly as he also bowed. He was also a traditional demon – one with pale orange-red skin with cream-colored banded markings. His blue hair was also up in a bun, and he looked over the hall in apparent boredom. Though Jurao could not recall having ever seen Lord Voulmae looking interested by anything.

"So it would seem, Vokes," Feyl replied neutrally.

"I suppose it's the wrong color anyway," Mascu said with a sigh.

Jurao could almost feel the way his best friend fought the urge to roll his eyes, given how long they had known each other.

Braelin hummed and said, "Perhaps you should wear your hair up as well, Lord Mascu."

Mascu's gray eyes landed on the human gardener before he said, "Your pardon, Lord Braelin?"

"Your hair is more green than Maenscul's," Braelin replied, eyes on Petal as he added, "So if the style is color-dependent, you could wear yours up as well. It could look nice."

Voulmae arched a brow, though he did not turn his head to look back at Braelin.

Mascu considered – then offered a stilted smile with a second bow before he left – his coudus following after.

"I appreciate the attempt," Feyl said, smiling, "but it does not bother me, Braelin. He would have something else to critique if my hair had been down."

Braelin shrugged, looking up to say, "I wasn't sure how long he would stay, and I didn't want to talk to him."

Kloy loosely wrapped an arm around Feyl's waist before he said, "It helps that Braelin's tone comes across as genuinely confused. I wouldn't have been nice. But of course, I already dislike Mascu, so I doubt he would have thought much of it."

Feyl snorted – but hesitantly leaned into the contact before he said, "Well, who doesn't, really?"