Feyl’s tail twitched as he followed Minaz to the Medical Wards – it had been a week since the mysterious human had been discovered, and the Right Hand had asked him along for her first formal interview of the man.

“Sorry,” she said for about the third time.

“It is what it is,” Feyl sighed, keeping a presentation smile carefully in place. She knew he disliked the Medical Wards, and why, but felt this was important enough to ask him along.

“Good morning,” Kloy greeted them at the door to the human’s room. He arched a brow at the valet, “Getting a second opinion?”

“If anyone knows exactly what Jurao would do with this weird mess,” Minaz snorted, “It’s Feyl.”

Feyl himself canted a hip as he offered the physician a flirtatious smile to hide his nerves at their locale, “One of my many areas of expertise.”

Kloy smiled in his kindly doctor way – which Feyl was almost certain was as practiced as his own mannerisms – and nodded, “I’m sure. Well then – I leave Braelin in your capable hands.” 

I wouldn’t mind being in his capable hands, Feyl thought, giving the doctor a cursory glance over. Despite the gap in their ages, the man was still very attractive – broad-shouldered, tall for a traditional demon, muscular, and his long wavy hair had a lovely healthy sheen to it. 

As always, Kloy ignored the study – likely because he was accustomed to such glances. 

Feyl didn’t linger, following dutifully behind Minaz – while he could ignore their location for more pleasant activities with an attractive man, really, the sooner they were done and he could leave, the better. 

“Good morning, Braelin,” Minaz greeted. 

The human had been busily writing something but looked up at the greeting – but only for a moment. In a soft voice, he replied, “Good morning – ah… Right Hand Minaz?” 

“Just Minaz is fine,” she snorted, “But I appreciate the attempt.” 

“I’m Feyl, the King’s valet,” Feyl introduced himself, amused despite himself. The way the human was focused on his work reminded him of Jurao, in a way – there was something similar in the man’s slightly furrowed brow of concentration. Of course, Jurao usually found a stopping point and set his work aside rather than continue it while speaking. 

“Nice to meet you,” Braelin said, still focused on his work. 

“What are you working on, there?” Feyl asked, walking closer to inspect. As he’d suspected, the many pages stacked on the table next to the bed were all in a human script he couldn’t read. Interspersed were surprisingly detailed and accurate sketches of various plants found in the gardens. 

“Notes about how to care for the garden plants,” the human replied. 

Feyl looked to Minaz in surprise. 

Her expression shared the sentiment as she sat beside the bed, asking, “And why are you so determined to write them now?” 

“I am a trespasser,” Braelin replied, still keeping his focus on his work, “I imagine once you’ve interrogated me, you’ll set a date for my execution. I wanted to make as many notes for a future gardener as possible.” 

Feyl couldn’t help it – he laughed, turning away to cover his mouth. Oh, no – this man was not going to be executed, no matter how reasonable the assumption was. Jurao would never carelessly let go of someone with this level of dedication. 

“I was thinking more of an interview, than an interrogation,” Minaz sighed, “If I promise that – should we decide to execute you – I will allow you to finish your record making, will you set your notes aside for now?” 

Feyl turned back as he mastered himself, asking, “Do you make a study of drawing?” 

“I had a tutor as a child,” Braelin replied, begrudgingly doing as Min had asked, “He was very disappointed I only took to botanicals.” 

“A tutor?” Minaz arched her right brows, “I thought the practice of human nobles was to ignore their illegitimate children?” 

Kloy had given Minaz the basics of the man’s background, and she had briefly recounted them to Feyl. Braelin was the illegitimate son of the usurped King Ebener the Fair of Jost, and had slipped through a rift while running from pursuers of the current King Ferrick the Rude. The human estimated he had been living in the gardens for a decade, which seemed to match their increase in health. He had been a gardener in the Jost castle and used that knowledge to care for the plants – he had meant to leave after recovering his health but had somehow forgotten to do so. 

Judging by his single-minded focus on his records, Feyl found that easier to believe now. 

“It is,” Braelin agreed, “But my older brother and I both lost our mothers when we were young. He decided to take me under his wing to be ‘real brothers’,” the man smiled as he recalled, “After I lost mine out of sympathy. Our father decided it was fine – he only ever distanced himself from me because my mother asked him to.” 

“Why?” Feyl asked, intrigued. 

“She didn’t want me involved with nobility,” the human replied. 

“Smart woman,” Minaz snorted. 

“So I’ve been told,” Braelin agreed. 

“I know you already told Kloy your background and how you came to be here,” Minaz said, “But I’d like to hear it in your words.” 

Braelin sighed – then repeated what they’d already been told. 

What Minaz really wanted was to try and catch the man in a lie – but honestly, anyone who could lie that well after drastic emergency surgery, with so many careful details, had earned the right to the lie, as far as Feyl was concerned. 

When Braelin had finished, Minaz sighed, “I think I know what Jurao would do.” 

“Judging by how much you seem to dislike the idea,” Feyl chuckled, “I think you do.” 

Braelin frowned as he looked between them. 

“Min brought me because I’m Jurao’s oldest friend,” Feyl supplied, “But it seems she didn’t need my input to know what the King would do were he here.” 

“We’re not going to execute you,” Minaz sighed again, getting to her hooves, “So please rest well – since we’ll be putting you back to work in the gardens as soon as you’ve recovered.” 

“… really?” Braelin asked. 

“Really,” Minaz snorted, “Now I just have to talk with Jouvi about it…” 

Feyl waved to the human as he followed her out, waiting until she’d closed the door to say, “Jurao probably would have made him a Department Head on the spot.” 

“I know,” Minaz rolled her eyes, “But I think Branch Head is more reasonable since we already have the Groundskeeping Department.” 

Kloy chuckled from where he’d been waiting nearby, “I suspected that would be your decision.” 

“What’s this?” Minaz asked, accepting a thread-bound stack of papers. 

“A translation of his earlier notes,” Kloy replied, “To prove he’s writing exactly what he claims he’s writing, courtesy of the Library.” 

“I’ll have to thank Carvve,” Minaz snorted, flipping through the pages. She tucked the stack under one arm before turning to Feyl, “Thanks for coming, even if it turned out to be pointless.” 

“Of course,” Feyl waved a hand, “Anything for a dear friend.”

While he’d kept his tone flippant, he did mean the sentiment – he had few he’d call friend at all, and Minaz was firmly in that number. 

“He’s a bit like the King, isn’t he?” Kloy mused. 

“Yeah,” Minaz chuckled, “They have a similar temperament.” 

“And single-minded intensity,” Feyl snorted, then hesitated to add, “Perhaps I should come back while Braelin is still convalescing – I doubt he knows much about demon culture.” 

He wanted to ignore it. To leave it be – it was hardly his concern, after all. But maybe it was because Braelin reminded him of his most dear friend that he couldn’t. A lone human in the Demon King’s castle would give offense to many just by his existence – and most would be far less forgiving of cultural missteps than their usual inclination with the man. 

“If you wish to do so, I don’t mind,” Kloy shrugged, “Honestly, it would be fine for Braelin to have any visitors, provided they don’t intend to cause him harm. I don’t want to avoid the Gardens for the rest of my tenure, you see.” 

“It’s a good call,” Minaz said, but carefully said, “If you’re sure your schedule would allow it.” 

Bless her for her discretion, Feyl thought, but shrugged, “I’ll see what I can manage.” 

Minaz sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that day as she knocked on the door to the Groundskeeping Office.

“Come in,” Jouvi called.

“I have bad news,” Minaz said as she did so.

“You’re making the human my responsibility,” the woman sighed, massaging her temples.

Minaz chuckled, taking a seat at the low round table in the room, “Afraid so.”

Jouvi hailed from Mavasnier, the city closest to the Beastkin Realm Gate – as such, she had arranged her office in a way similar to Beastkin practices, being a beastly demon from a family that traded heavily between realms. Instead of a desk, Jouvi had a specially made round table that took up most of the room – her seat as head marked by being the tallest backed chair.

“Well, I suspected it was a possibility,” Jouvi said, setting aside what looked like a budget report, “With the Gardens being under my purview and all.”

“Here are the notes he’s been writing about plant care so far,” Minaz said, handing over the translated stack, “I think a Gardening Branch may work, but since it’s your Department, I’ll leave the decision in your hands.”

“Thanks,” Jouvi said flatly, pulling the notes closer – then pausing as she really started reading them.

“Haven’t done more than glance through them myself,” Minaz added, “Are they any good?”

“He doesn’t know the names of any of them,” Jouvi said, “But… hm. They all let him this close…?”

“What do you mean?” Minaz asked.

“A lot of the notes he’s written seem to come from close observation,” Jouvi replied, flipping through the pages carefully, “And these drawings are clearly from close study as well… did he find a way to practice in the Gardens…?”

“Well,” Minaz got back to her feet, “That’s really all I came by to say – let me know what you decide and feel free to talk to the man himself until he’s cleared to work.”

Jouvi offered her a wave, brows furrowing as she continued reading Braelin’s notes.

Minaz decided to go to the training fields – she was holding off writing about Braelin to Jurao until the situation was fully resolved. She wondered what their King would think about it all.