When Jurao escorted Braelin back to the gardens, he was surprised to see his aunt and Ferrori waiting on the veranda.

“Aunt Nevve,” the Demon King frowned.

“Hey, brat,” Nevve replied, with a lazy grin, “I hear congratulations are in order.”

“Ah, yes, thank you,” Jurao replied.

“Braelin sent his assistant to ask me to come out here for some work on his cottage,” his aunt said.

“And I tagged along to satisfy my curiosity,” Ferrori added, sketching a bow, “Nice to meet you, Lord Braelin.”

Braelin frowned - but it only took a moment for his expression to clear, “Yes, right, I did. Nice to meet you, ah…?”

“Ferrori, one of the senior civil smiths,” the man replied.

Braelin inclined his head in acknowledgment.

“What work were you planning on,” Jurao asked curiously.

“Well,” Braelin looked aside, scratching at his chin.

Given he seemed to have forgotten asking Nevve to meet him, the King wasn’t surprised he also needed a moment to remember what he’d asked her to meet for. His aunt didn’t offer an explanation, still grinning - perhaps Gaele hadn’t given her any details on that front. Ferrori seemed nervous, but the Demon King had no idea why that would be.

“Ah,” his gardener was clearly struck with realization, “If my family does come here, they’ll need somewhere to stay. I might not use the cottage much, but…”

“I see,” Jurao nodded, “That makes sense.”

Ferrori snorted, then coughed to cover it, “It is the only human-sized accommodation in the castle…”

“Go on - we’ll talk about it where the plants can handle anyone throwing a temper tantrum,” Nevve rolled her eyes, shooing her nephew off with one hand.

Jurao nodded to her and reached out to touch Braelin’s shoulder as he said, “I’ll see you before the evening meal.”

“See you then,” Braelin agreed, nodding back.

Jurao returned to his office, wrapping up his work for the day before heading back to the gardens as promised to escort his gardener to the evening meal. He found the man waiting for him alone, rather than with Gaele.

“Ah, before we go to the evening meal,” Braelin said, “I had… something to give you.”

The Demon King was surprised to see his… partner - yes, that qualified their relationship, he thought - partner’s face redden. He felt his own face heat a little in response, and asked, “A gift.”

Braelin nodded and pulled something wrapped in fabric from a jacket pocket. He fiddled with it, saying, “It’s… not very grand or fine, but I wanted to… ah. Here, you’ll understand.”

Jurao accepted the cloth-wrapped object, wondering what it could be as he pulled the fabric back. What was left was a dagger - one similar to the one Braelin had shown him before. The Demon King picked it up, stunned by the gesture of a return courting gift.

Unlike his partner’s dagger, the one Jurao now held was made of three thorns to fit in his hand comfortably. Two had been turned to create a serrated back edge, with additional serrations carved in. The handle had been wrapped with dark leather, with a hole carved at the end to better facilitate a backhand grip.

“It’ll take a few days to harden into something useable,” Braelin said, looking away, “But I needed to carve it when it’s still soft enough for it. I actually asked Nevve to meet me for help with the design since I don’t have any experience making weapons…”

Jurao hummed, still a bit stunned - he tested the grip, taking a few slow swings to test the weight. It was lighter than any other dagger he’d had - he wondered just how sharp it would be when hardened. Carefully, he rewrapped it, and found himself smiling as he said, “It matches yours.”

Braelin looked up in surprise, and smiled in return, “It does.”

I want to kiss him, Jurao thought - then realized, Ah - I can.

Without other considerations, he leaned down to do so - only briefly, surprising his partner for a moment before the human leaned into the pressure.

When the Demon King pulled back slightly, he said, “Oh - perhaps what we were missing before was… circumstance.”

“That could be,” Braelin agreed - then took a step back, “We’ll be late if we try to test that theory, though.”

“Yes,” Jurao agreed, returning to his feet and turning toward the castle.

The guards at the door were both openly staring - but one roused themself as the King faced them. They glanced over at their compatriot and hissed, “Hurge!”

The other guard - presumably, Hurge - also straightened, face darkening in a blush.

Feyl’s going to yell at me later, Jurao thought, leading the way inside. While he knew it wasn’t unusual for those courting to openly display affection, Feyl had seemed to believe it was better that he and Braelin do so privately. At least, based on his valet’s off-hand comment about closing doors. Perhaps this was one of those situations where there were secret rules.

Jurao had come to realize that occasionally others would tell him there were no rules for a given situation, but would later seem to have agreed upon unspoken rules of conduct the Demon King never quite grasped himself. Feyl was good at explaining those kinds of rules.

Everyone else seemed to fall silent when they arrived in the Dining Hall. Not suddenly, but by the time Jurao took his seat, all his Department Heads were staring at him.

“Is something wrong,” he asked, looking around the table.

“Not… exactly, my lord,” Hujur answered, “It’s just that… well…”

“You’ve been smiling since you walked through the door,” Gavven giggled nervously, “Did something good happen?”

“Ah,” Jurao said - he hadn’t even noticed. He looked over at his gardener.

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Braelin’s blush had returned, but he nodded at the look from the King before training his eyes on the table.

With that, Jurao pulled out the thorn dagger, “Braelin made me this dagger - and I suppose I am quite pleased about it.”

Braelin scratched at his chin but smiled himself all the same.

“Like,” Festi blinked, squinting as if looking at a bright light, “A return courtship gift…?”

“Exactly,” Jurao replied, carefully wrapping the dagger again. He wanted to admire it some more, but now was not the time or place for that.

“How very thoughtful!” Gavven added.

“Was that made from Wall Briar thorns?” Jouvi asked, “Aren’t those poisoned?”

“Only the old ones,” Braelin replied, “The green ones don’t have poison yet - the briar dropped some for me when I asked.”

“That explains how you could carve it,” Jouvi sighed, “Those thorns are at least strong as steel, after all…”

“Really,” Jurao asked, thinking back to Braelin’s fully hardened dagger.

“I mean, they’d have to be,” Festi shrugged, “With demons trying to push through them and all.”

“Fair point,” the Demon King said, signaling the meal to start.

“I suppose that means you have a matching pair, then,” Kloy smiled gently.

“Indeed,” Jurao agreed, feeling his own smile at the reminder.

Gnori pounded a fist on the table - but seemed at a loss as to what he wanted to say; his own face darkened a bit with a slight blush.

“That’s so cute!” Gavven giggled, fanning eirself with a hand, “No wonder you’re pleased, my lord!”

“It’s just a dagger,” Vajur grumbled - but it lacked the vehemence of the previous two days, which the Demon King found curious. The spymaster added, “Not like a human would really know what it means…”

“Oh, hush,” Gavven huffed, “He doesn’t need to know what it really means for it to be a nice gift.”

Braelin glanced up at that, asking, “You mean about not minding if someone uses a weapon against you?”

Vajur looked up in surprise.

“Oh,” Festi frowned, “Right - Feyl did explain that, huh?”

“Right here at the table, even,” Jouvi agreed.

“You weren’t back yet,” Hujur added, for the spymaster’s benefit.

“And so?” Vajur scoffed, “Knowing what it means to us doesn’t mean he means it that way.”

“You’re right,” Braelin said before anyone else could interrupt, “But it doesn’t mean I didn’t mean it that way, either.”

The table fell silent again - though everyone seemed to avoid outright staring at the human.

Braelin sighed, looking up and meeting Vajur’s look of disbelief head-on, “I knew what the cultural significance was when I was making the dagger. Before I even really set to it, I gave it a lot of thought - I wanted to properly return his highness’s feelings, but if I didn’t have the conviction that's meant to accompany a demon courting gift, I thought it would be better to find an alternative.

“But when I considered how I would feel if Jurao,” he paused and lightly cleared his throat, “If his highness changed his mind and executed me for being a trespasser… well, I didn’t feel like I would resent him for it. Because, if he did that, it would be for a very good reason - so my feelings wouldn’t change, because he’d just be… being himself, and I like the person he is.”

Braelin looked down again, “Anyway, I understand why you don’t like me, and you might not believe me, but… I really did think about whether or not a weapon was the right gift for me to give. So,” the human shrugged, seemingly finished.

For a few moments, the table sat in silence. No one seemed to know how to respond - least of all Jurao, who felt stunned all over again.

Finally, Vajur scoffed, “Fine. You have some conviction, at least - not that humans have ever been lacking…”

The entire table seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, tension broken. The Department Heads jumped to fill the silence with the usual conversations about what had occurred that day and what help they might need from their colleagues for upcoming events.

For his part, Jurao watched his partner - Braelin was dedicatedly staring at the table as he ate, not seeming to listen to the conversations around the table. But the hand closer to the Demon King was tightly gripping the fabric of his pants, belaying the tension he still felt over the situation.

Glancing around the table, Jurao leaned over - placing one of his hands over Braelin’s before softly saying, “I like the person you are, as well.”

Braelin didn’t glance over, but he did smile for a moment. He let go of his grip - but only to turn his hand over and grip Jurao’s.

The Demon King smiled, straightening up in his seat - but leaving their hands clasped together.

After the evening meal, Jurao suggested retiring early - which Braelin readily agreed to. The human immediately collapsed onto the couch when they arrived in Jurao’s suite.

“Are you alright,” the Demon King asked, sitting beside his partner.

“Mhm,” Braelin nodded, “Just… tired.”

Jurao reached out to stroke his partner’s hair, “I’m sorry Vajur put you in that position.”

The human leaned into the contact but sighed, “It’s not your fault - you can’t really force him to not be suspicious. That’s kind of his job, isn’t it?”

Jurao chuckled, “That’s true, but I do wish he could be less angrily suspicious.”

Braelin hummed, looking like he might fall asleep.

“Did Jost have a spymaster,” the Demon King asked.

His gardener nodded, “He sided with Ferrick, though - never liked me either…”

“Why not,” Jurao asked.

“I ‘complicated’ things,” Braelin replied.

“Ah,” the King nodded, “Human succession.”

The human nodded - then opened his eyes to regard Jurao. After contemplating, he moved over to lean into his partner’s side.

Jurao wrapped an arm around the man’s waist to accommodate him, draping the other over the back of the couch.

“This is nice,” Braelin said, closing his eyes again.

“It is,” Jurao agreed, leaning back into the couch and closing his own eyes. It seemed odd to find so much content in simply sharing space with someone else, but the Demon King dozed off before he could think on it too much further.

He woke when Feyl arrived at his usual time a few hours later.

“Well, you’re certainly less lost than I gave you credit for,” his valet said, taking in the pair of them on the couch with a bemused smile.

“What do you mean,” Jurao asked.

“I thought with your lack of experience in relationships, you two would be more…” Feyl hummed in consideration, “Awkward about physical contact. Though I suppose that’s on me, considering you confessed while cuddling.”

The Demon King hummed, gently shaking Braelin awake as he sat up, “Are you going to yell at me.”

“I was planning on it,” Feyl sighed, dropping onto the couch across from them, “But Braelin’s little speech at the evening meal is quickly overtaking any gossip about a trifling matter such as a public kiss.”

“It is?” Braelin asked, yawning as he stretched awake.

“I think most of the court was under the impression you were just letting Jurao drag you along,” Feyl replied, then waved a hand, “I hadn’t realized you were actually paying attention to me when I explained demon courtship gifts, to be honest.”

The human shrugged, “I didn’t think I was, either.”

Jurao chuckled, getting to his feet to change for the night, “I’ll just be a moment.”

“So you really gave Jurao a weapon? And meant in our way?” Feyl asked, waving a hand at the King.

Braelin nodded, “I did.”

Feyl sighed, “You two have only known each other for a little over a week, you know.”

Even changing in his bedroom, Jurao could hear the conversation in the receiving room easily - though Braelin’s quiet voice was more difficult to pick up.

“Even so,” Braelin said, “My feelings are what they are.”

“And what are they, if you don’t mind my asking?” the valet probed.

“I wouldn’t say they’re anything as strong as love,” Braelin replied, “If that’s what you meant to get at.”

Jurao wasn’t surprised - he also would not put his feelings in that category.

“More or less,” Feyl said - and Jurao could picture the accompanying shrug.

“I can’t really put a word to them,” the human went on, “But… I feel like we’re good soil.”

The Demon King chuckled, coming back into the receiving room.

Feyl didn’t look impressed, glancing up at Jurao before saying, “Do tell.”

“It seems like we have a solid base that something really strong could grow out of,” Braelin replied, “I’m just not sure what seeds we planted there yet,” he looked over as Jurao sat next to him, “What do you think?”

“I think that’s a good analogy,” the Demon King replied, “My feelings are quite similar.”

“Wait,” Feyl sat up, “Did you know he could hear us?”

“Yes?” Braelin blinked a few times, “Was I not supposed to?”

Jurao chuckled again, “Most humans have trouble reconciling demon hearing.”

“Ah,” his partner said, then shrugged, “I suppose I picked it up from being in hiding for ten years.”

“That would do the trick,” Feyl agreed, then forced his usual smile and asked, “Well then, shall we play?”