“After Mascu decided not to tell Ierge about Feyl and further denied their connection after they met,” Halvern started, “He grew very bitter towards nobility in general. I did not begrudge this – my peers are not kind.”

“Vokes could make anyone feel that way, really,” Feyl said dryly.

“So when I realized I was pregnant with Ierge’s child,” Halvern went on, “I was worried how he would receive the news – while we’d had some… romantic inclination towards each other, at the time, we were casual friends who’d simply had relations on a handful of occasions.”

“That’s a fair way of putting it,” Ierge sighed, still looking to be processing this new information while glaring a hole into Jurao’s desk.

“As Ierge surmised,” Halvern said, “I had brought up the subject of Mascu in an attempt to segue into telling him about Gaele. It did not go well.”

“I ran my fucking mouth until we ended up in a shouting match before running off to Mesescima a week early,” Ierge growled, “Then I realized I’d been an asshole and wrote an apology letter when I reached Coujieul, but Vern never replied, and I didn’t blame him.”

“I,” Halvern paused and bowed his head further, “Didn’t know what to say.”

Gaele looked up sharply at that, and Jurao could well imagine why – Lord Halvern was not an angry or physically intimidating man, but he could certainly be imposing and rarely expressed uncertainty.

“Didn’t know what to-!” Ierge growled again, “How about, ‘Hey asshole, thanks for the apology; I’m having your kid’?”

“And how would you have responded to that?” Halvern snapped, also raising his head to glare at the weaponsmith, “Really? Sir’ I could never trust a noble to have another kid of mine, they’re all rotten liars in the end’?”

“You knew it was important to me!” Ierge replied, pushing up from his seat with his arms without fully rising, “You knew I wanted to be in my future kid’s life, if I had one!”

“Yes, I did know!” Halvern replied, grabbing the armrests of his own chair, “Which is why I ensured you were part of Gaele’s life, even if I could not bring myself to confess fos is yours!”

Ierge took in a breath to reply – then slumped back into his seat and seemed to deflate, “Oh.”

Halvern sighed, rubbing at his temples, “In short – when Ierge returned to Caslavven, we repaired our former relationship, and I thought to wait until a better time to tell him about Gaele, but it…” he sighed again, hands dropping, “No. It started that way, but… in the end, I was just… afraid.”

“Afraid?” Gaele asked, usual nerves forgotten in fos surprise, “You, Dad?”

Halvern closed his eyes and nodded, “Yes. I was afraid of losing Ierge’s friendship, so I kept the secret that would make him hate me. In the end, I really am just the same, aren’t I?” he sighed, “A nobleman that lies to get what he wants, damn who it might hurt.”

Ierge considered this for a few moments before asking, “I know this is fucking rude, but could we have the room?”

“We did force this on you,” Jurao said, rising, “I do not mind.”

Feyl shrugged, “True enough.”

“Um,” Gaele rose, awkwardly attempted to put Petal on the floor, then straightened when fos realized the crushfern would not be set down, “Uh – I know, uh, you two need to talk now, but um…”

“We can talk later,” Halvern sighed tiredly – then rose to meet his offspring’s gaze, “I promise, Gaele.”

Ierge’s expression was as uncertain as his offspring’s as he said, “Yeah, of course.”

Gaele nodded, then hesitated again at the door and said, “I really, um, need to set you down, Petal.”

The crushfern pat fos face before obliging at the clear request, shuffling after the rest of them out of the office.

“I know we’re going to talk later and all, but um,” Gaele wrung fos hands – then rushed forward to hug Ierge, “I th-thought you should know I already thought of you like my second dad, s-so! I’m glad it’s true!” Fos backed away quickly, “A-anyway! I just thought you should know that!”

Ierge looked a bit stunned by the action, unable to reply before his offspring was away again.

It was Feyl that caught Gaele before fos could run off, closing the door to the office, “I think he needed to hear that, really.”

“Y-you do?” Gaele said, getting fos hooves under fos after Feyl had held fos up by the upper arm to prevent fos from falling by the sudden stop, “Oh, um, you’re… stronger than you look…”

“Just a touch,” Feyl agreed lightly, then sighed, “So then. This officially makes us siblings.”

“Sounds like you all had a productive meeting,” Alae said, languidly leaning forward on his desk.

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Feyl rolled his eyes, ignoring the prompting.

“I believe I will take my midday meal early,” Jurao declared, and looked to Braelin.

“Aya set up another picnic today,” his partner said, “Would you like to join us, Feyl? She usually invites Gaele as a friend.”

Feyl snorted, releasing his new younger sibling, “Oh, I suppose I could manage that.”

Gaele seemed to be contemplating running away after all, but Petal wrapped tendrils around one of fos arms.

“I’m allowing Lord Halvern and Head Weaponsmith Ierge to use my office for a private meeting,” Jurao added, “Please see they are not disturbed unless there is an emergency.”

“Of course, my lord,” Alae smiled, making a note, “It shall be done.”

Once they were out of earshot, Feyl imitated the secretary with an unflattering, “‘Of course, my lord.’ Ugh, little pretend obeisance voice…”

“You know he doesn’t actually hate Jurao,” Braelin chuckled, “He just thinks annoying you is fun, and the easiest way is by making you think he has something against Jurao.”

“He-” Feyl paused, then made a noise of disgust, “I hate how much sense that makes.”

“He does use a different tone when you’re near,” Jurao agreed, of course remembering when Alae had admitted to such directly. He was sure he had not told Braelin of that conversation but was not terribly surprised his observant partner had picked up on it on his own.

The picnic had been set up in the Pond Garden, just outside the gazebo – which would have been too small for their typical number.

“Did something happen?” Ayelma asked, jogging over and peering up at Gaele, “You look upset.”

“Um,” fos chuckled.

“Gaele found out who fos other parent is,” Braelin replied on fos behalf.

“Really? Who?” his sister asked. Given how early it was, she was the only other one present.

“Head Weaponsmith Ierge,” Feyl snorted, patting the young demon on the shoulder, “Which makes the two of us half-siblings.”

Gaele flinched, and cleared fos throat, “You don’t, um, have to take that… so seriously… um… Lor-… Feyl?”

“Nonsense,” Feyl declared loftily, “I already have five siblings; what’s one more?”

“Wait, so,” Aya huffed, clearly thinking through things, “Your other parent is the angry blacksmith guy who watched you as a kid?”

“You’ve met?” Braelin asked his sister in surprise.

“Malson said, since we’re starting up training with Ben again, I should get my own proper sword!” Ayelma said proudly, “And when I mentioned it to Gaele, that’s who fos took me to see about it!”

“Everyone gets confused about how we’re connected,” Gaele chuckled, “So I usually just explain it.”

“So… is this like… a congratulations-type situation?” Ayelma asked, “Cause you did seem fond of him.”

“It’s, um,” Gaele considered, “I don’t know yet? They – um, my… dads – didn’t seem to be on good terms about it...”

“Oh, they’re just going to-” Feyl started, then paused before, “They’ll work it out.”

“Y… you think so?” Gaele asked.

Feyl considered before saying, “I mean… you have seen them together, haven’t you?”

“Um, yes?” Gaele replied, though fos did not seem to have comprehended more.

“… alright,” Feyl sighed, “I have listened to so many drunken ramblings from Dad swooning over Lord Halvern like an adolescent, primarily complaining about how many romantic moments he was sure they’d had – which I was honestly surprised to witness enough to agree with him – and now it’s fairly obvious Halvern held back due to this secret. So, now that he’s confessed and since he did make sure to include you in Dad’s life if they aren’t currently working on making you an older sibling, they will be by tonight.”

Gaele looked absolutely scandalized by this explanation.

Ayelma tried not to laugh, but did so anyway, gasping, “I’m… I’m sorry, Gaele, but…!”

“I’m sure Alae will have someone clean your office before the midday meal is over, Jurao,” Feyl added, “So you don’t need to worry about that.”

“Cleaned up from what,” Jurao asked.

“How do you make a child?” Feyl replied.

Jurao considered this, then realized, “Ah. Sex.”

Ayelma started laughing harder at this for some reason.

“Would they really?” Braelin chuckled, “In the King’s office?”

“I don’t think that’s what either of them planned, but,” Feyl said, “They’re having an… emotional moment.”

Gaele’s face was dark with a blush – but, after a moment, fos chuckled, “I’m glad… they’re probably going to make up. I think they’d both be sad if they didn’t.”

“Well, if Dad decides to be stubborn, I’ll just kick his ass about it,” Feyl shrugged, “Otherwise, I’ll have to deal with more of his ramblings…”

They finally moved to help finish the picnic setup, and soon, the rest of their meal party arrived. Feyl seemed determined to learn more about Gaele without being too obvious about his intentions – which did not surprise Jurao, given how much he cared for his other siblings. The role of elder brother was simply too large a part of him to ignore just because the two had not grown up knowing their relation.

This prompted a second telling of the earlier events of Ierge and Halvern, as well as new questions.

“But, wait,” Meir’ril frowned, “If Ierge watched Gaele often, how have the two of you not interacted much before?”

“I grew up in the Engaegasculi Estate,” Feyl explained, “And my vokes never acknowledged Ierge was my father – he just happened to spot me in the Civil Smithy one day, and the resemblance is rather obvious.”

“He would come looking for Exka,” Jurao added, “She would often get to the training yards through the smithy since she was not allowed otherwise.”

“And I don’t let anyone stand around useless in my smithy,” Nevve declared, joining them that day, “So I put that brat to work alongside Jurao whenever he dawdled.”

“Of course, once we were all adults, Exka didn’t need permission to join the army,” Feyl snorted, “So I had no reason to be there after that. While Dad had come to see me if he heard I’d been forced into labor-”

“You’re welcome,” Nevve grinned, “People keep telling me I’m such a great blacksmith; being one of my students should be a great honor – ungrateful brat.”

It was a familiar dance – telling the truth but dodging around the heart of it. Technically, Nevve ‘forced’ Feyl to be an apprentice – if one ignored the fact that he had been free to leave at any point, and had clearly been given the option from the outset.

Feyl rolled his eyes at the good-natured jab, “I never spent much time with him outside of the smithy – not until after I became an adult, and we would start meeting at the taverns on the castle grounds on occasion to chat. And by the time Gaele was born, I was already in my thirteen hundreds.”

“Thirteen-” Ayelma scoffed, “What’s that in human years?”

Feyl considered, “Mid to late twenties.”

“I guess that is pretty late to be helping your dad play babysitter…” Meir’ril chuckled, “Especially if you didn’t grow up with him that way.”

“Most demons don’t maintain strong ties to their parents after reaching adulthood anyway,” Goyl added, “Even working in the same trade, most young adult demons will establish themselves with a new shop rather than remain at the one their family operates. Nobles tend to be more of the exception, but even then…”

“Estates are large enough,” Feyl snorted, “So there’s not much interaction.”