“Human coronations are odd,” Jurao observed.

“I was expecting a bit… more,” Feyl agreed, fussing with the King’s hair, “Who was the human standing next to you? The one that wasn’t another monarch?” 

“Braelin,” the Demon King replied, “King Malson’s younger brother – though he says he is not a prince. He’s the one that’s been getting the demon plants delivered.”

“Human succession is also odd,” Feyl snorted, “Though I’m more surprised the man’s alive and in possession of all his limbs.”

“He speaks of his ‘demon garden’ fondly,” Jurao chuckled, “I am going to see it after the feast.”

The new King of Jost had paraded the capital and surrounding villages, a journey he’d set off on after the morning coronation. He and his wife had returned an hour before sunset, which was when the time of the feast was determined. Jurao had elected to nap in the interim – the long sea journey from Vede to Jost had taught him that boat travel made him nauseous, and he was still recovering his fortitude. 

Feyl arched his left brows, “He must have left a favorable impression, at least – there, done. You are feast-ready.”

“What makes you say that,” Jurao asked, standing and stretching.

“Please learn how to ask a question,” Feyl sighed, “And because you smiled and laughed just now, despite having only just met the man.”

“Ah, I see,” Jurao nodded, “I did find him amusing.”

“Why was he standing next to you, anyway?” Feyl asked, “Shouldn’t he have stood with the rest of his family?” 

“Apparently, crowds make him nervous – I suggested he stand on that side to be mostly out of sight,” the King replied.

“Of course you did,” his friend snorted, “Well, by all accounts, the siblings are all close, so it should get you some favor.”

Jurao hummed an acknowledgment.

An attendant knocked to escort them to the feast hall – while Jurao had done his best to learn Jostian etiquette, Feyl was much better at remembering those kinds of details. And, it seemed, it was common enough to have an attendant nearby during these kinds of events.

All the visiting royalty were seated at the long head table perpendicular to all the other tables. Jurao was still amazed by the amount of objects that could be constructed out of wood – and how so much human architecture relied on straight lines and flat surfaces rather than the curves and rounds of demon clay and packed earth. 

Jurao thought it would be difficult for them all to speak together with such a set-up – the U-shaped tables used in the Demon Realm were far more conducive to conversation, he thought.

As the leader of a Realm, Jurao had been seated to the immediate left of King Malson – the other visiting rulers beyond him. As with the coronation, the Jostian royal family took up the right side of the table – along with Emperor Lhiu of Erei, for being part of the family by marriage. He was seated next to his sister as a mark of honor, former King Ebener and his wife Eweylona next to him, with the siblings and children after them – with one exception.

Once the toast had been made and the feast began, King Malson initiated the conversation, “I wanted to thank you, your highness!”

“Jurao is fine among peers,” the Demon king replied and asked, “For what.”

Malson frowned, then said, “For helping my brother, Braelin!”

“Ah,” Jurao nodded, ears twitching from all the conversations echoing about the Great Hall, “You are welcome, but it was nothing.”

“Still!” Malson insisted, “I know how much he wanted to be there for me, and I’m glad he didn’t have to deal with too much hardship to do it!”

Jurao inclined his head, “Is that why he is not at the feast.”

Malson’s frown deepened – and he hesitated before stating, “Are you bad at asking questions!?”

Jurao heard Feyl snort from his seat behind them.

Ahua, his wife laughed.

As did her brother beside her, adding, “Not the most diplomatic approach, brother.”

“I just can’t tell!” Malson added, face going pink, “And wanted to make sure!”

“I am told I am bad at using the correct tone for asking questions,” Jurao confirmed, “I am not offended. And yes, I was asking if that is the reason.”

“It is!” Malson said.

“The twins mentioned you intended to tour the ‘demon garden’ he’s made,” Ahua added, putting a hand over her husband’s, “After the Feast?”

“Yes,” Jurao nodded, “We have long been curious about the person getting so many plants – I thought it would be interesting to see how they have been faring here.”

“Oh, not only will you see it,” Emperor Lhiu chuckled, “But the elven botanist guest of the crown will be able to tell you how they have been faring – in excruciating detail.”

“Hou’a!” Malson confirmed, “A friend of my brother’s! He’s been helping him properly establish the demon plants!” 

“I may not understand much of what they know,” Jurao replied, “But I am sure there are those back in my Realm that would appreciate their research.”

“I think Braelin would be happy to go back with you, given the chance,” Ahua laughed, “To see the plants in their native habitat.”

“Probably!” Malson agreed, with a laugh of his own, “Though we’d miss him if he did!”

“He’d certainly be welcome,” Jurao said, “It could be a good way to strengthen our diplomatic ties.”

“Perhaps the rest of us in the Reaches should prepare proper ambassadors,” Wesran, on Jurao’s left, mused.

“I saw the demon plants myself during the week I arrived,” Monarch Rahlee chuckled, “They certainly are impressive – and affectionate.”

They were a brownie – a human with Kinfolk ancestry. They were four and a half feet tall, with dense, wavy brown hair that covered most of their body – based on the patches on the backs of their short clawed hands, circling their neck, and the short bobtail that stuck out from their pants. Their ears were wide and bestial, and their canines were longer than a human’s.

“Affectionate,” Jurao asked.

“That was a question,” Feyl called out on his behalf.

“Yes?” Wesran replied, looking up at Jurao curiously, “I take it that is not usually the case?”

He was a difficult man to pin down for Jurao – a pale human of over six and a half feet of height, rare of itself, with brown-black hair slicked back and impassive gray eyes with a green inner ring. He was reserved – his countenance reminded Jurao of a veteran soldier, and the King’s reports supported this with a past military career. 

“Demon plants are used as a defensive measure,” Jurao replied, “They are usually ruthlessly efficient carnivores.”

Malson snorted, “So Braelin keeps saying!”

“It’s probably because he babies them,” Ahua laughed.

“Babies them,” Jurao frowned, considering how one would do such a thing.

“It’s easier to see than explain!” Malson said, then leaned forward, “Like Wes and the monsters he calls hunting hounds!”

There were some chuckles at this, and conversation through the feast went along similarly friendly lines. Jurao was still preoccupied imagining affectionate demon plants by the time it concluded, and was more eager to visit the demon garden.

“I thought I’d do some… diplomacy of my own,” Feyl said, accompanying him, “But now I’m curious about these affectionate demon plants as well.” 

“Have you found someone attractive,” Jurao asked, knowing his friend meant sex.

“Several,” Feyl grinned, “But we’ll be here a few months for this summit, so foreign relations can wait.” 

Jurao nodded and looked up as they were approached.

“Oh, you actually came,” Braelin said, “I thought you might have just been being polite when you said you wanted to see it.”

The man had changed from noble finery to plain clothing more fitting of a gardener but otherwise looked the same. He was heavyset, with pale, freckled skin and light stubble on his face. His wavy brown hair was tied up, which made sense in the summer heat they were experiencing. 

Feyl chuckled, “I imagine why you might have thought so – I’m Feyl, the King’s valet.”

“Braelin,” the human replied, holding out a hand, “I work in the gardens.”

“Are you purposefully omitting being the new king’s brother?” Feyl asked, “I just want to know if it’s meant to be a secret.”

Braelin hummed and waved as he led the way, “We used to act more like it was a secret, but after the usurpation, it stopped seeming very important, I suppose.”

“I suppose I could see that,” Feyl said.

Braelin led them to what appeared to be a house made of glass. He stopped outside to say, “Hou’a, a botanist friend of mine, pointed out that demon plants aren’t used to extreme temperature changes – so he helped me find builders that could construct a greenhouse for them.”

“Yes, Emperor Lhiu mentioned him,” Jurao said.

“Yes – despite his complaints, the Emperor has had many long talks with Hou’a,” Braelin chuckled, “He has his own interest in alchemy, which relies heavily on herblore, and Hou’a is an expert in his field. He and his husband are currently at the after-feast festivities, acting as representatives of their Queen. Sort of.”

“Sort of?” Feyl arched his left brows.

Braelin shrugged, opening the door to the greenhouse, “She has strong ties to the Empire – but also Erei, as all elven trade goes through Erei. So she’s… playing the field, as it were.”

“Smart woman,” Feyl chuckled.

“So I hear,” Braelin agreed, then sighed happily, “Did you miss me?”

Feyl and Jurao watched in equal awe and confusion as the plants were, indeed, affectionate – Snapblooms purring as they rubbed against the human’s legs, Stranglehold Vines tugging at his arm and hair. A Caustic Feather Fern unraveled from the ceiling, draping itself across Braelin’s shoulders like a mantle as he reached over to pat the two Snarefans he had. 

“What is that?” Feyl asked, ducking behind Jurao as two more Snarefans appeared – or rather, two more plants like Snarefans but able to twist around on long stalks. 

“Ah,” Braelin turned back to them, “We grafted the Snarefans and Stranglehold Vines together when the early Snarefans seemed like they might not make it, and the vines were doing well – we’ve been calling them Snaretraps.” 

One of the Snaretraps was nuzzling the human’s cheek like an enthusiastic pet.

“They are affectionate,” Jurao observed, though more curious about the man than the new plants.