Jurao easily led the way to the palace library, though he was curious as to why Braelin had asked. 

“Your highness,” Carvve, the Head Librarian, greeted as they entered. She was small for a demon, at only seven feet, with black and white patched skin and mouse-like features. She bowed slightly from the waist, glancing at Braelin only once as she rose and asked, “To what do we owe the honor?”

Jurao looked to Braelin. 

“Do you have books about the plants in the garden?” he asked. 

The Demon King snorted, then turned his head to chuckle - ah, he should have guessed. His gardener truly was single-minded. 

“Certainly,” Carvve arched an elegant brow, “Though, unless you read demonæ, I would need to use a spell for you to comprehend them immediately.”

“That’s fine,” Braelin said. 

Carvve looked at Jurao. 

“This is Braelin, the new Royal Gardener,” the Demon King said, “Please support him.”

“Of course,” Carvve said. She bit her thumb and crouched down, using the blood to draw a symbol on Braelin’s forehead. When she recited an incantation, the symbol flared with light before disappearing. She rose and waved a hand, “I’ll show you to the section with the books you requested.”

“Someone will come to show you to your temporary room in a few hours,” Jurao said.

Braelin nodded, and said, “Thank you… my lord?”

The Demon King nodded, “It serves.”

Braelin nodded back, and jogged after the Head Librarian. 

Jurao watched after him a moment, then left the human to his own devices to attend to his own after-dinner routines. 

He was expecting issues as everyone adjusted to new arrangements - however, he was not expecting one in the middle of the night. 

Jurao woke to someone pounding on his door, and opened it to find Festi outside - holding Braelin firmly (but not roughly) by the collar. 

“Good evening, your highness,” they said, their left eyes seeming to twitch in annoyance, “Could you please handle… this?”

“Elaborate,” Jurao said, yawning and tying his sleep robe a little tighter. 

Festi sighed heavily, pushed Braelin into the room, and left. 

Braelin readjusted his shirt and jacket, but didn’t appear bothered. 

Jurao had stepped back, and arched his brow at the human. 

Braelin shrugged, “You told me to ask them if I needed anything.”

The Demon King hummed, “When did you approach Festi?”

Braelin’s gaze seemed to travel up to the ceiling, which he contemplated for some time before shrugging. 

Jurao snorted, “You have a hard time keeping track of time.”

Braelin nodded. 

The Demon King considered this and said, “I’ll get you a timekeeping device. Right now, it’s the middle of the night, so everyone would like to sleep. You should as well - were you ever taken to a room?”

Braelin shook his head, “I was reading about plant care and asked the person who came to get me to take me to the quartermaster instead.”

So he approached them around the ninth dark hour, Jurao placed - which wasn’t late enough to explain Festi’s ire, or why they had dragged the human here a few hours later. He said, “You had a request.”

Braelin nodded, “All the books agree the plants should have fresh meat at least once a week - no one invades that often, so I asked them how to accomplish that.”

“They turned you down,” Jurao surmised, gesturing at a nearby couch.

Braelin shook his head, walking over to take a seat, “They told me it was a question for the kitchens - so they had someone take me there, but the cook on duty said they wouldn’t get the Head Cook for a random human. So I went back to Festi, and they went with me to get the cook, and the cook said their job didn’t include preparing plant food. Festi and the Head Cook argued, and I suggested getting livestock instead.”

“Livestock,” Jurao prompted, sitting across from the human. 

“Fresh meat is best,” Braelin nodded, “So if the cook didn’t want to prepare anything, I thought it would be easier to just get livestock instead.”

The Demon King managed to smother the urge to laugh, “Continue.”

“The cook went back to bed, and Festi said getting livestock would be a question for Hujur or Jouvi,” Braelin went on, “So they sent me off with someone to find one of them.”

I think I see where this is going, Jurao thought. 

“We found Jouvi first, and she said it was fine, but to talk to Hujur about obtaining the livestock,” Braelin said, and paused to yawn before continuing, “But Hujur said we couldn’t get livestock for the garden, because it would be undignified to have common animals wandering the garden and would bother the nobles. So I went back to tell Festi, and they brought me here.” 

Jurao hummed, nodding as he considered. Finally, he said, “Livestock is a good idea. I’ll discuss it with Hujur - some demonic birds are pretty enough that they shouldn’t bother anyone.”

Braelin nodded with a noncommittal noise, blinking like he was struggling to keep his eyes open. 

The Demon King stood and retrieved a blanket from nearby, “Sleep here tonight - I believe everyone is tired from running around.”

The human nodded again, and laid back on the couch - soon curling on his side facing the back of it. 

Jurao snorted, draping the blanket over his gardener before returning to his own bed for the night. 

Jurao was woken up by a shout. 

“Your highness!! Your! High! Ness! Jurao!!” Feyl, his head valet, burst into the room shouting. As usual, he had a bright smile on his face - but it was clearly strained. 

Feyl had four arms, hooved feet, and carefully feathered long platinum blond hair. His eyes were a bright purple, and his tail ended in a spade. He was a lofty noble whom Jurao mainly gave the job for being Jurao’s friend from childhood, making him the easiest to deal with of the nobles applying for the job. 

“What is it?” Jurao asked, yawning as he sat up.

Feyl pointed towards the receiving room, “What!! Is! That!!?” 

The Demon King hummed, unsure what he could mean. So he got up, pulled on a robe, and walked out to the front room. 

Braelin was somehow still sleeping soundly despite the shouting. 

“Ah,” Jurao said, and turned back to say, “That’s Braelin. He’s the Royal Gardener.”

Feyl tossed the nearest object at the Demon King’s head, which happened to be a heavy decorative glass figurine. 

Jurao caught it easily - Feyl wasn’t exactly weak, but after ascending to Demon King, no one demon could come close to his level. Not even prior Demon Kings retained their initial strength after a successor appeared. 

“I heard you were doting on some human intruder,” Feyl said, still with that strained smile, “But! I thought! Jurao wouldn’t do that! Jurao would never show an intruder mercy!”

“I’m not doting,” Jurao said, ignoring the rest as he walked over to the couch. He shook Braelin’s shoulder, trying to rouse him, “It was just simpler to let him stay here after he showed up so late.”

“Why did you let him in then!?” Feyl demanded, “Wait! No! Why is he the Royal Gardener!? Jurao! He’s a trespasser! A human trespasser!”

Jurao snorted when he realized Braelin wasn’t going to wake up from shaking either, sitting on the edge of the couch and considering his options. Is he always a heavy sleeper, or is it just because it’s his first time sleeping indoors in ten years?

Feyl threw another figurine at the Demon King’s head, shouting, “Don’t ignore me!!”

Jurao caught it again, setting both figurines on the low table nearby. He cupped his chin in another hand, considering the problem of waking the human as he said, “The garden likes him. He’s clearly doing a good job, so why would I get rid of him.”

“… alright, fine, that sounds like you,” Feyl sighed, putting his hand to his forehead, “You never could let go of a useful person.” 

“People kept passing him off to Festi until the middle of the night, and they brought him here when they got fed up,” Jurao explained further, “That’s why I said it was easier to let him stay.”

“Yes, yes, you’re very sensible,” Feyl said, waving a hand vaguely. Then he opened his eyes, and his face fell. He pointed and spun his finger in a circle, saying, “I’m sorry, I’m not supposed to see this as doting?”

Jurao looked down and saw he’d absent-mindedly started petting Braelin’s hair while talking. He took his hand back, but rather than remark on it, he chuckled, “Yet he’s still sleeping.”

Feyl sighed, “Don’t tell me you actually noticed someone for once and it’s this random human?” 

“What do you mean,” Jurao said. 

“Learn how to ask a question, would you?” Feyl sighed, smoothing his hair and then putting his usual smile back on his face, “Fine, fine, I see how it is - now come let me help you get ready. He’ll wake up when he wakes up, no?”

The Demon King shrugged, agreeing to that logic at least as he rose and went back to his bedchamber to get ready for the day. 

When he returned to his receiving room, it seemed Braelin had finally roused - though he was merely sitting up and looking around the room groggily. 

“Braelin,” Jurao said, drawing the human’s attention. 

The man looked over, blinked a few times, then sighed and said, “Oh. That really happened, then.” 

The Demon King snorted, then crooked a finger to call his gardener over. 

Braelin slid off the couch, yawning as he walked over to Jurao’s side. 

“You have him walk next to you?” Feyl asked in amusement. 

“I can’t sense him if he walks behind me,” Jurao said, “It’s a bit unnerving.”

“He certainly is plain enough,” Feyl agreed, studying the now awake human. 

Braelin didn’t seem to take offense to this, staring back openly. 

“I heard you were shy,” the head valet laughed, “Am I just that beautiful?”

“You are pretty,” Braelin replied, looking away absently, “But it only bothers me when a lot of people are looking at me, not one or two.”

Feyl didn’t seem to know how to reply to that statement. 

Jurao snorted again, then started walking out - it wouldn’t do to be late to breakfast. Not with the tempers he might need to ease from last night. 

Feyl went off to take care of other matters, and Jurao and Braelin entered the small dining hall for the Head Staff to a bit of a commotion. 

“There you are!” Hujur sighed in relief, walking right up to them and crouching down to speak with Braelin, “Where have you been all night?”

Braelin shuffled a step back, and looked up at Jurao. 

“Festi left him with me,” the Demon King supplied, “I didn’t know where you put him, so I let him sleep in my receiving room.”

“Ah,” Hujur chuckled nervously, straightening, “I see - well, we’ll have to rectify that after breakfast.” 

“Or he could just keep staying with his highness,” Gavven giggled, “Much less work for everyone.”

“That’s absurd!” Gnori pounded a fist on the table, “Don’t try to spread weird rumors!”

“It’s not like e is reaching very far…” Festi sighed, massaging the bridge of their nose.

Jurao took his seat at the head of the table while they spoke, pushing Braelin along next to him. Minaz had once again left the place next to the Demon King open, and he nodded to her. 

She snorted, glancing sidelong at the human before saying, “Must have given Feyl a heart attack.” 

“He only threw two things at me, so nothing so drastic,” Jurao replied, waving to a nearby servant to bring in the food, “Hujur, about the garden-”

“My lord, livestock is not a viable option,” the head steward sighed, as if knowing exactly what the Demon King had intended to say, “Even if we were to use a breed no one would mind, the amount we’d need is infeasible to maintain.”

Jurao looked to his gardener. 

“Six hundred twenty kilograms a week,” Braelin supplied, “Roughly.”

The Demon King tried to visualize it. 

“About three or four of most demonic bird species,” Hujur supplied, “The amount we’d need to maintain the population would overrun the garden. Not to mention the devastation that could happen if a noble took a liking to one of the birds before it was eaten…”

Jurao wasn’t certain those two issues were on equal footing, but chose not to comment. 

“I’ll handle the logistics,” Hujur sighed, “It’ll be easier to just have meat delivered, honestly…”

“Tell it to Voga,” Festi scoffed, “He’s the one who didn’t want to prepare plant food.” 

“I don’t need to involve Voga,” Hujur replied, making notes, “Jouvi, if I could use some of your staff…” 

“Sure,” she sighed, “They already unload most of the supplies - sending some to a different location shouldn’t be too much of a burden. Besides, fighting with Voga is a pain.”

“Will that do?” Jurao asked Braelin. 

His Gardener nodded, nibbling on something while glancing around the table.

“I think Braelin needs an assistant,” Minaz said. She’d been looking contemplative before, and Jurao had wondered what she was thinking. 

“He’s only been here for a day,” Gavven giggled, “And been managing the garden well enough on his own for a decade - or so his highness believes.”

“Not for that shit,” Minaz waved a hand, “Someone he can send to talk to everyone when he needs something. Otherwise, he’s going to keep getting passed between people while pulling random staff away from their jobs…”

“… good idea,” Hujur said, making another note. 

“… can I pick?” Braelin asked. 

Jurao watched as everyone carefully avoided outright staring at the human, though their expressions spoke to their surprise. He turned to his Gardener and asked, “You have someone in mind.”

“I think they’re a noble,” Braelin said, “But they spend a lot of time in the garden and talk about wanting to be more useful to you. Seems like a good fit to me.” 

“I’ll go with you to ask them,” Jurao replied, wondering who his Gardener could mean. 

Hujur hummed a little, then sighed, “I suppose it would be good if there was someone positively predisposed to the job…”

“Yeah, some people might see it as some kind of punishment,” Festi snorted. 

“What!” Gnori slammed a fist on the table, “Who would consider it an insult to work for King!” 

“Not the King,” Gavven giggled, “Would you be happy working for a human, Gnori?” 

“I-!” Gnori growled, then crossed his arms, “It doesn’t matter! What’s for the King is for the King!” 

“Liar,” Festi huffed, “You’re the one already challenging Braelin’s appointment.”

“I am not!” Gnori replied, “I just said he couldn’t have hid in the garden for ten years!” 

Jurao leaned over to speak to his Gardener lowly, “Does it bother you that they’re talking about you like you’re not in the room.”

He knew the rest of the table could hear him fine - and that they would hear Braelin’s response just as well. But it was often difficult for humans to reconcile the difference in senses between them. 

“No,” Braelin said, examining a landscape painting behind his seat, “It’s easier to pretend I’m really not in the room that way.”

Since the human wasn’t watching the table anyway, the others didn’t make the same effort not to stare - they didn’t seem impressed by the answer. Though at least they continued to talk amongst each other. 

“… does your uneasiness fade with familiarity,” Jurao asked, in his odd non-questioning manner.

“It does,” Braelin replied. 

“That’s good,” Jurao said, straightening up in his seat, “I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable forever.”