“I think I’m in lust,” Feyl declared one evening about a month after the Assembly, staring up at the ceiling rather than play Ascension.

“In lust!?” Malson asked, as he joined their evening activities sporadically.

“You know,” Feyl waved a hand vaguely, “In sexual love.”

“Why do you believe that,” Jurao asked, also sitting out – allowing Braelin and Malson to play each other.

His best friend sighed wistfully, “Well, Kloy and I finally managed to fuck, and if I didn’t know Maenscul has no Beloved, I would say he was theirs.”

Braelin snorted, “Congratulations.”

“Perhaps they are his patron,” Jurao suggested.

Feyl snorted, “He’s from Lajaonar nobility, I would be very surprised if his patron was anyone but Vasculas.”

Jurao hummed, though it was true – most residents of Lajaonar were born in medical wards, making their patron the Goddess of Medicine. Then he said, “Ah – I meant to ask. Alae mentioned that he believes the two of you do not get along because you are too similar.”

His best friend hummed, then raised his head, “Well, I suppose he has a point.”

“I do not understand why similarity would make you dislike each other,” Jurao added, “It usually seems to be the opposite.”

“Sure,” Feyl nodded, “If your similarities are the parts you like about yourself.”

The King considered this, then nodded, “Ah, I see. You are similar in your shrewdness, but neither of you enjoys that you must be shrewd.”

“To put it diplomatically, yes,” Feyl agreed.

“Yeah, court politics can turn you into a real asshole!” Malson agreed, then flinched, “The general ‘you’, not…! Youyou!”

Feyl snorted, “I appreciate the clarification, but either interpretation is correct. Besides, the Demonae version of that sentence was clear from the outset.”

“Yeah!?” Malson asked, then nodded, “Oh, right, Demonae has a plural ‘you’! Forgot that one for a moment!”

“I suppose that also explains how you and Alae can dislike each other and still like Jurao,” Braelin added.

“Most likely,” Feyl shrugged, “He started courting Quinesti, by the way.”

“The younger civil smith!?” Malson asked.

“They did have a mutual attraction when I made Braelin’s broach,” Jurao recalled.

“Though it seems ironic, with our previous discussion,” his best friend snorted, “Since Quinesti dislikes me.”

Jurao thought to mention it was because Quinesti was jealous of Feyl’s smithing skills, but with Malson present, refrained. Besides, Feyl had been the one to tell Jurao that was the case, so did not need to be told.

“How are your and Meir’ril’s language lessons going, Malson?” Braelin asked, changing the subject.

“Well!” Malson declared, “I think I’m a little ahead of Meir, but he’s managed to find himself seven magic teachers, so he’s running around most of the week now!”

Braelin chuckled, “I feel a bit badly that Huo’a isn’t the best teacher – I can understand why Meir’ril would be excited to learn a rare affinity like time magic.”

“Time magic?” Feyl chuckled, “Not earth or plants?”

“You’d think Huo’a would be disappointed,” Braelin chuckled again, “But he actually sees it as more of a boon – he can speed up entire miniature ecosystems he builds to record changes much faster in an organic way. Boosting plant growth with plant magic can actually alter it from its natural state, which would mess up his research. He has a strong affinity, too, so he has more control than other time mages – or so Loge says.”

“One of the previous Champions was able to manipulate time,” Jurao recalled, “But they relied on it too much. They didn’t take the time to learn any combat skills, so weren’t able to cause me enough damage – they also didn’t anticipate the way the Demon Realm dissipates magicka more quickly than other realms, so ran out unexpectedly,” he sighed, “They’re one of the few Champions I ended up killing. If they would have learned from their mistakes, they would have posed too much of a threat to the realm.”

“Well, you have to protect your people!” Malson shrugged.

“Yes, but knowing now that they were summoned from another world, I wonder if they understood what they were being asked to do,” Jurao hummed, then shrugged as well, “No matter. No time magic is powerful enough to go back that far – I will simply have to consider it for future Champions.”

“Hopefully, your diplomacy during the Hundred Years Ball will go well,” Feyl added, “Have you heard who the Entertainer picked as their representative?”

“Matrie Maidonna, the current Star of Lathe,” Jurao replied, “Making her head of the Church of Angela. Though Vajur’s reports indicate her father still runs the church, and she serves more as a figurehead for having a stronger Blessing of Lathe, as she is only fifteen.”

“Is it usual for children to serve as diplomats in the Human Realm?” Feyl arched his right brows.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“The Empire is pretty dogmatic!” Malson said, “If I were the Entertainer, I’d pick someone young enough to have their beliefs shaken! My old rapier tutor grew up in the interior of the Empire – she would tell me how she was isolated from the outside world and constantly lied to about demons and everyone outside the Empire! I mean! Many countries do that to a degree! But the Empire is extremely methodical about it – it doesn’t even allow foreign merchants in the interior, and uses the public schools it brags about to reinforce their ideology with the common populace too!

“The Church officials are even more isolated than that, or so she said!” Malson went on, “So no! It’s not usual for fifteen-year-olds to serve as diplomats! But I see why the Entertainer would make that choice! Especially when she’s that high up in the hierarchy!”

“Speaking of lessons,” Braelin said, “How has teaching Aya your sword style been going?”

“I believe that is going well,” Jurao replied, “It helps that the Mafokuraes dual sword style only requires two hands to learn.”

“I still remember how attached to your cousin you were when she was teaching you,” Feyl snorted.

“Your cousin?” Braelin asked.

Jurao nodded, “Ena – current head of the Mafokuraes Hunting Band. My aunt wrote to my mother’s sister, asking for someone to come teach me when I was nearing adulthood. She had realized I intended to join the army by then, though she waited for me to tell her myself. It was nice to learn my mother’s fighting style, though.”

“I just want to know who this ‘smithing spirit’ that made her swords is!” Malson scoffed, “I don’t know how much I trust free weapons of that quality!”

“I mean, most of the Department Heads have a weapon from fos,” Braelin shrugged, “Among many others.”

“Well! That’s true, I guess!” Malson huffed, “But it still annoys me!”

“Some mysteries in this world aren’t meant to be known,” Feyl snorted, long accustomed to the lie. While he might not have minded telling Malson otherwise, Braelin had advised against it due to Malson’s tendency to forget secrets with people he trusted and Ayelma’s inability to keep them at all.

“Any word on when Jaevve and your kids will arrive?” Braelin asked.

“Should be any day now!” Malson replied, “They arrived in the Demon Realm through the Vede gate a few weeks ago, after all!”

“Henes’s dagger was also from the smithing spirit,” Braelin smiled, “I think fos just likes helping people.”

Feyl smiled wryly himself with a roll of his eyes.

“I guess there are those geniuses that just have to make shit and see selling it as secondary!” Malson sighed, “The smith who made my rapier was like that, too! Though Yuovehn’s daughter kept them from giving anything away, or else they wouldn’t have had enough to live off of!”

“Genius might be a little much,” Feyl snorted, looking away as his tail swished.

“You just don’t know weapons!” Malson scoffed, “The smithing spirit’s gear is no less than genius quality!”

Jurao had to turn his own head to stifle a laugh – he rarely saw Feyl embarrassed, and was now truly understanding the amusement in pleased embarrassment his best friend had mentioned before. Though he did agree with Malson’s assessment – Feyl was his aunt’s top apprentice, and she was widely hailed as one of the most talented smiths in the realm.

“What are you two laughing about!?” Malson demanded.

“Nothing,” Braelin answered, making his final move, “I Ascend.”

“Of course you do!” Malson scoffed, “But come on, what’s funny!?”

Despite more wheedling, Braelin and Jurao, of course, kept Feyl’s secret – their two guests soon departing for the evening. It had been more relaxing as of late – while the King and his gardener had continued attending court events, they were now free to do so at their own pace. Malson had started gaining a reputation in the rowdy poetry battles Messo and Ieresti invited them to, especially with his use of Jostian-style poetry and the distinct cadence it had. He’d also won four out of his six duels from the Assembly – and as his losses were to the Master and Deputy Master of the Gnomesaroy Fighting Guild, most did not hold it much against him.

Ayelma had become such a proficient rider that she’d been offered a place in the cavalry, though she declined due to a desire to maintain her self-determined schedule. Appropriate soil had come in for human planting, which Beneford and Milve were helping Owren within their spare time. The former Guard Captain was now Minaz’s Deputy Captain of the Royal Guard as well.

Additionally, the City Council had sent a liaison for the public garden project, which all the Branch Heads of the Gardening Department were eagerly designing – even Milve. Priestess Milli had left for her temple in the Wastes a week or so ago, as Snip and Snap were now fully acclimated to Jurao as their master. Kloy’s okels – Laesar – had arrived that same week, and ce and cer granddaughter were staying in the castle until the actual construction of the aquatic garden was underway.

Imena was settling in as a third valet well, covering midday duties to Jurao specifically, though all three worked throughout the day. Fae had always run with the progressive crowd, which was another advantage – as Forvi garnered more conservative favor and Feyl had no alignment with any particular court faction.

As Malson had predicted, his wife and children arrived a few days later – Jaevve sent a letter from the Field Wall Gate to announce their arrival. As such, Malson, Braelin, the twins, as well as Jurao, Kloy, and the doctor’s family were all waiting at the front of the castle for the three to arrive.

“So, since Jaevve is your cousin, Dad,” Klesmi asked, readjusting her weight on her crutches, “What does that make me and her kids again?”

“Second cousins,” Kloy explained.

Kloy’s daughter did not resemble him greatly – likely taking after her mother. She was a rhino beastly demon with giraffe horns, a fuzzy tail, purple skin, and blue angular markings. She did have wavy purple hair the same shade as Kloy’s, which she had pulled back into a messy bun.

“Right,” Klesmi nodded, “Though technically, they aren’t related to Ae-ae at all…”

Laesar laughed, sitting contently in cer wheeled chair, “Jaevve was always a rambunctious girl! A kid between her and this wild man must need all four hands to manage!”

Laesar and Kloy resembled each other more closely – both being traditional demons with wavy purple hair, though Laesar’s had gone almost entirely lilac compared to cer son and was cut at cer chin. Cer skin was a few shades darker green than Kloy’s, and while cer wavy markings were the same shade, cers was much thicker.

“You’d think that!” Malson agreed proudly, “But Henes is actually pretty quiet and mild-mannered – fos just has a tendency to run off!”

“I can’t wait to meet them all!” Ayelma grinned, bouncing in place, “A niece and a zasus! And a sister-in-law! I’ve never even had a sister!”

“I never thought I’d have a human cousin-in-law,” Klesmi snorted, “No wonder everyone was making such a fuss in Lajaonar…”

“Were they?” Kloy chuckled.

“Oh, yes,” Laesar rolled cer eyes, “Though the Gaegaehados were less willing to carry on your father’s campaign against Prince Ergirri’s successor once they found out about their grandchildren.”

Kloy arched his brows, “Ah, yes – Malson, your children will have plenty of gifts from their grandparents waiting for them.”

“I’m sure Jae will be happy about that!” Malson laughed, “And the kids!”

“There are some for you as well,” Laesar chuckled, “Well, for you and Jaevve as wedding presents.”

“They gave us so much to bring with us,” Klesmi sighed, “I was surprised her husband is so much older, though.”

“We were about the same relative age when we met!” Malson nodded, “Humans just age faster!”

“I didn’t even think about that,” Meir’ril considered, “So how old is Jaevve – in relative human terms?”

“Mid-thirties!” Malson answered, “Like I was fifteen years ago!”

“Look, look!” Ayelma said, bouncing on her heels, “The flag!”

Jurao had asked the guards at the gatehouse to wave a flag when the carriage with Jaevve and the children came through. Sure enough, someone at the top of the gatehouse was waving a round flag in the air.

“Here they come,” Braelin chuckled.