In Which Braelin Talks About the Past
As Jurao had anticipated, Braelin did not join them for the evening meal.
“Why’s Braelin asking for some groundskeepers to transfer to the gardening department?” Jouvi sighed, “I mean, he should ask; I just figured he would have done it a lot sooner than now.”
“Some of his family members arrived today,” the Demon King replied, “Braelin’s uncle was his mentor and insisted he needed more people to manage the gardens.”
“Just what we needed,” Festi rolled her eyes, “More humans.”
“His siblings are half-elf, too,” Minaz snorted, having left Braelin’s chair open anyway, “And none of them have Braelin’s… temperament.”
“That’s true,” Jurao nodded, “And I suspect we will see very little of Owren away from the cottage.”
“I’ll work out a guard rotation by tomorrow,” Gnori said, slightly above an appropriate indoor volume, “Thought the ones that have been on shift at the back doors could use the break - and they like Braelin more than the others, anyway.”
“Thank you, Gnori,” Jurao said, inclining his head.
“I trust they’re all in good health?” Kloy asked, “Not that I won’t be setting up appointments - I’ve been interviewing new doctors familiar with human anatomy already.”
“Owren - Braelin’s uncle - has artetica,” Jurao replied.
Minaz snorted, “Yeah, and he certainly lets you know about it…”
“Exactly how many more humans is the Demon King’s Castle going to entertain?” Vajur huffed - it still had a bite to it, but lacked the sheer vehemence of his initial reaction to Braelin.
“Should only be two or so more,” Jurao replied.
“I believe the question was rhetorical, my lord,” Hujur said drily, giving Vajur an unimpressed look.
“Ah, and Festi,” Jurao asked.
“Yes, my lord?” his Quartermaster arched a brow.
“Could you see if there was a mount the stables could spare,” the Demon King replied, “In the next litter, if not in this one.”
“I mean, I can, but why?” Festi asked.
“Let me guess,” Minaz smiled, “For Ayelma?”
Jurao nodded, then explained, “Braelin’s younger sister - an avid rider.”
“Maybe you should make her guard a member of the cavalry, then,” Festi suggested, then sighed, “I’m not being rhetorical.”
“I’m sure Exka would be happy to spare someone,” Minaz chuckled, “She thought Ayelma was a riot.”
“I see no issue with that, then,” Jurao nodded.
This is nice, he reflected - the lack of contention, even without Braelin in the room. He disliked managing tempers, even if he understood the source of the frustration.
“Is that where you disappeared to this afternoon?” Gavven giggled, “Meeting with Braelin’s family?”
“Yes,” Jurao smiled, “I thought to excuse myself so they could catch up, but they asked me to join in.”
Minaz snorted, “Yeah, they were pretty shocked to hear you two were courting…”
“Who wouldn’t be?” Festi snorted, “They’d only have to know one of them to be surprised.”
“True enough,” his Right Hand agreed with a laugh.
The meal passed with more light chatter, and Jurao went to his office afterward.
“Did something happen with Braelin, your highness?” Alae asked as he entered the antechamber there.
“Some family members arrived today, yes,” the King replied.
“I see,” Alae smiled - then frowned, “It’s just… he’s already here, in your office. He seemed… different.”
“Different,” Jurao asked.
“A little… more lost in his own mind than usual,” his secretary replied.
The King frowned and decided the best thing was simply to ask the human himself, “Thank you, Alae.”
“Of course, your highness,” Alae replied.
As his secretary had said, he found Braelin already inside. Except instead of doing research as usual, his partner was looking listlessly at the fire in the hearth.
“Alright,” the Demon King asked, closing the door behind him.
Braelin flinched in surprise, glancing over before rubbing at his eyes, “Yes - well, mostly.”
Jurao walked over, sitting in the other chair.
His partner sighed, rubbing his chest, “I thought… it would have been long enough not to bother me anymore.”
“How you got a scar there,” Jurao asked gently.
Braelin nodded, “And… all the rest.”
“Did you want to talk about it,” the Demon King asked.
“It’s… not very pleasant,” his partner said, “But then, you’re… familiar with that sort of thing? War.”
“I am,” Jurao agreed, reaching out to card a hand into Braelin’s hair, “But you don’t need to force yourself.”
His Gardener smiled a little, but it fell just as quickly as he leaned into the contact, “It’s strange, but… whenever I feel afraid, it’s never about my close call with death. It’s about how Malson almost died - how his own uncle said such… awful things to him before attempting to murder him. And how I felt so… powerless to actually help.”
“Why did Ferrick usurp your father,” Jurao asked.
“Greed, mostly,” Braelin sighed, “As I understand it, anyway - but there was also… my brother, Malson. When he was born, people thought he was a girl. And when he told Dad that was wrong, Dad immediately sorted things out - but there were a lot of people that said it wasn’t right.”
“I don’t understand,” the King frowned.
“Neither do I,” Braelin sighed again, “It was just… what people believed, I guess. When I got to the throne room to help Malson, I hid at first - Ferrick was… he was telling Malson why he was doing it, which was mostly that he thought Dad was a weak king for keeping taxes so low, for treating me so well, for marrying Eweylona instead of making a better diplomatic match… and for not forcing Malson to act like a woman.”
“But he’s a man,” Jurao said, “And what does that mean - to ‘act like a woman.’”
“I know,” Braelin snorted softly, “Human customs around gender can be… confusing, even for us. Not everyone has such strict views on what’s appropriate behavior for men and women. Still, the countries in our region did - and Malson did not follow the ‘appropriate’ behavior for a woman. Obviously, since he’s a man. People in Jost also did not take a high view of relationships that weren’t man and woman. It wasn’t considered taboo or anything, but it was better to be quiet about that sort of thing - that’s why Uncle isn’t very open about his relationship with Captain Beneford.”
As his partner sat in silence for a few moments, Jurao stroked the human’s temple with his thumb - he truly hadn’t realized things were quite so different in the Human Realm. Well, in Braelin’s part of it, at least.
“Ferrick had visited the castle over the years,” Braelin said, returning to the original topic, “Malson’s mother was his sister. He… he never seemed like he disapproved of anything, but I suppose he was just acting so we wouldn’t be suspicious. Malson really looked up to his uncle - I can’t imagine how devastated he must have been when…”
His Gardener clutched the fabric of his own shirt, holding his breath for a moment before letting it go, “Malson just… he froze. I’d never seen that happen - but then, ah,” Braelin chuckled, “When Ferrick said he’d let him live if he agreed to pretend to be a woman, Malson decked him. And when he moved, so did I - I didn’t have any real combat experience, so the best I could do was take the blow meant for my brother. Some kind of… spear made of a metal I’d never seen before - I’m fairly certain it was magic.”
Braelin pulled out of Jurao’s grip, untucking his shirt to pull it up, revealing the scar just over his heart. It was shaped much like a windstorm, in a light pinkish swirl, “I was left with this - still hurts sometimes, but I suspect it’s because I wasn’t able to get proper medical treatment for it.”
Gingerly, the Demon King reached out to trace the edge of it, “Has Kloy given you any suggestions.”
“He has,” Braelin sighed, watching Jurao’s hand, “Not his fault there isn’t much to be done for old scars.”
Taking his hand back, Jurao asked, “And… the rest. The civil war.”
“I honestly don’t remember it all that well,” his partner replied, letting his shirt drop, “Those five years all blur together - I did what I had to and don’t give it much thought beyond that. Mostly ran and lived off the land as much as possible.”
Jurao hummed - he’d had his share of rough living, both growing up in a Beast Hunter band and as a soldier. Though his circumstances had never been so dire, nor had he been alone, he could estimate the kind of trials Braelin had experienced.
“It makes me tired to think about, more than anything,” his Gardener sighed, rubbing at his eyes again, “It’s all done with now.”
Jurao hummed again - he was not well equipped when it came to comfort. Giving or receiving it. Gently, he pulled his partner out of his seat - easily maneuvering the human into his lap and wrapping his arms around the man. It was the only way he really knew.
“My aunt used to say,” Jurao started, and considered, “That grief was like a lost tool - causes a lot of loud fuss at the time it’s lost, then only shows up when you don’t need it anymore.”
Braelin chuckled, laying against the King, “There may be something in that. I don’t… want to bring this up around the twins. I might talk with Uncle later, but… they’re young, and they’ve had enough of their own struggles by now. And I pushed them to leave without me.”
“You don’t want them to blame themselves,” Jurao realized.
Braelin nodded, “The important thing is we’re all well and here now - there’s no need to worry about the in-between bits.”
“And your brother is also alright and on his way here,” Jurao added.
“That he is,” his Gardener agreed.
They sat in silence for some time when the King had another thought, “And if Ferrick had found your parents, he would not be quiet about it - so likely they are also fine and in hiding.”
“Thank you,” Braelin said, “I’m sure you’re right.”
“... could they be in the Elven Realm,” Jurao asked.
“Maybe,” his partner replied, “Eweylona doesn’t have a good relationship with her family, but she’s a priestess of Eleamera and still has a good relationship with their priestesshood.”
“We can reach out, at least,” the Demon King said, “Discretely.”
“I’d appreciate that,” Braelin replied.
They sat silently for some time - Jurao hoped it was helpful.
Then there was a knock, and the door opened for Feyl to call out, “Good evening?”
Jurao looked down at Braelin.
“It’s fine,” his partner nodded, otherwise still.
“Come in,” Jurao called back.
Feyl did, closing the door behind him before waltzing over and taking up the other chair before the hearth, “Well, don’t you two look cozy?”
“You don’t usually knock,” the King said - though he was grateful for the warning.
“Alae thought Braelin might be upset,” Feyl said carefully.
“I didn’t think he noticed,” Braelin sighed.
“Reunions are always bittersweet, aren’t they?” Feyl sighed diplomatically, “Not that I would know - my family hardly leaves me alone, and they’re all here.”
“Oh?” Braelin asked, shifting to face Jurao’s valet.
“Yes - my parents live in the city, but my siblings and other cousins are valets as well,” Feyl went on, “Of course, everyone is so proud that I managed to work for the King - not that any of them approved of Jurao before his nomination, but that’s the way of it.”
“How many siblings do you have?” Braelin asked.
“Oldest of six - and oldest of my generation of our family,” Feyl went on, “That’s why I was usually sent after Exka - she’s the oldest of four herself.”
Jurao was grateful to his friend - he knew Feyl was being distracting on purpose, and was glad for it.
“Let’s see - after me is my sibling Gnene, my sisters Wogar and Dasti, my brother Kaenaz, and my youngest sibling Apae,” Feyl went on, counting on his fingers, “Exka has three brothers - Igao, Millar, and Vaeko. You probably won’t run into any of them unless you suddenly desire to participate in court events.”
“I don’t,” Braelin replied.
“I didn’t think so,” Feyl snorted, “But, there you have it.”
Braelin hummed a little in consideration, then looked up at Jurao, “There is something I’ve been curious about.”
“Yes,” Jurao asked.
His Gardener reached up, gently touching the small scars on the side of the Demon King’s face, “Where did you get these?”
“Ah,” Jurao said, not bothered by the touch, “It happened when I was still a young officer in service to my predecessor, Demon King Ergirri, under General Imeveo - Minaz’s mother.”