They were soon met by Gnori, Minaz, and a handful of Castle Guards - unsurprising, given the divine interruption.

“WHAT HAPPENED!?” Gnori demanded, a little more than half as loud as the goddess had been.

Minaz, meanwhile, took stock - hand leaving her mace as she saw no immediate threat.

“This is Milve, High Priest of Iescula,” Hujur took charge, “He took issue with the garden shrine, but Iescula herself gave her blessing - that was what caused the ah, commotion.”

Minaz’s brows shot up as she grinned and looked at Braelin and the priest, “Really? Iescula herself?”

“It would appear,” Milve sighed, “That… he is her Beloved.”

Minaz had to turn away to try and stifle laughter.

Gnori seemed uncertain for a moment, then nodded to himself and turned to his guards, “Alright, we investigated, and the matter is resolved! Return to your usual posts!”

The guards looked between each other for a moment, shifting in place before seeming to agree with their captain and heading back toward the castle.

“Will you be needing accommodations in the castle, your grace?” Hujur asked the priest diplomatically.

Milve sighed and rubbed at this forehead, “Yes, I believe I will,” he glanced back at his familiar, then sighed again, “Well, whatever it wants to do, I suppose…”

The Crushfern shuddered and picked itself up from the ground. Its leafy tendrils had a little green in them now, and seemed to move more easily as it pushed itself across the ground on many legs to set down next to Braelin.

“Yes, I suspected as much,” Milve nodded, appearing as though he might be suffering from a headache.

Hujur coughed to cover a chuckle of his own, “If you would follow me, your grace.”

Milve did - allowing the Stewart to lead the way back to the castle.

“Is there anything you need, my lord?” Gnori asked, then paused before adding, “Braelin?”

“No, I believe the matter is settled for now,” Jurao said.

Braelin nodded, then sighed, “I don’t want to deal with him…”

Minaz snorted just as she’d gotten her laughter under control, but managed to keep her composure as she walked over to them, “Then just send him away, oh great Beloved of Iescula.”

“But then he won’t learn how to take care of the plants,” Braelin frowned, “Troublesome.”

Jurao found himself chuckling at that - of course.

“Then I guess you’re stuck with him,” Minaz shrugged, “But hey, at least he’s going to listen, huh?”

Braelin nodded, “And I was already teaching the groundskeepers.”

“The final details can be decided tomorrow,” Jurao suggested, “It is near time to retire for the night.”

His partner nodded again, then crouched next to the Crushfern, “What were you planning to do, then? You could probably use more water than that, right?”

One of the plant’s tendrils reached out and patted the human’s cheek, and it shuffled just a bit closer to him.

“I think it wants to follow me,” Braelin said.

“That’s fine,” Jurao said, “I’ll have someone bring a basin to my suite so it can soak up more to drink.”

Braelin smiled as he returned to his feet, “Thank you.”

The look still made Jurao’s chest feel bright.

They bid Gnori and Minaz good night and found Feyl waiting in the receiving room when they arrived.

“Why did you have someone bring a basin?” his valet asked, waving at the metal tub from his seat in one of the chairs before the hearth.

The Crushfern ambled over to it immediately, pushing itself up and into the water - settling and letting its tendrils unfurl over the edges.

“Nevermind,” Feyl snorted, “So, the meeting with the priest went well?”

“As well as can be expected, I think,” Jurao replied, headed to his room to change into his usual loungewear.

Braelin sighed, “I still don’t want to deal with him…”

The King tousled his partner’s hair, “Do you want me to accompany you tomorrow - in the morning, at least.”

“I would appreciate that,” his gardener sighed, then yawned, “I think I will turn in early.”

“I understand,” Jurao said, “I’ll join you later.”

When the King had changed and returned to his receiving room, Feyl had already set up Ascension.

“So why does Braelin need to deal with the priest?” he chuckled.

“Iescula herself intervened,” Jurao replied, sitting across from his friend, “She suggested Braelin could teach the man.”

Feyl snorted, “Oh, that should be interesting…”

“Are you actually teaching a priest?” Festi asked as soon as Jurao and Braelin had sat down for breakfast.

“Apparently,” Braelin replied.

The Crushfern was now a vibrant green as it trailed along at his side, looking more like an aquatic plant swaying through water with how smoothly it glided across the ground.

“What is that?” Jouvi asked, pointing out the plant.

“It was the High Priest’s familiar,” Hujur mused, “But I don’t think it intends to return to him…”

Braelin hummed, looking down at the plant, “Maybe it should have a name…”

“First a spider, now a plant,” Festi snorted, “Well, at least the plant makes sense…”

Gavven giggled, “Congratulations on being Beloved, Braelin!”

“Thank you?” the human replied, “I’m still not entirely certain how to feel about that, but I guess it worked out this time.”

“Yeah, most people don’t get a goddess to intervene on their behalf,” Jouvi snorted, “Even if they are Beloved.”

“Most people don’t even know they’re Beloved,” Kloy added, then hesitated before asking, “Is that… a Rambling Crushfern?”

“That’s what the High Priest called it,” Braelin said.

“Well,” the Physician hummed, “The flowers of the Rambling Crushfern have significant medicinal properties - mainly as a pain-mediating tea. If it would be possible to collect some - ah, without harming the plant, of course - it would be a great boon to the castle stores.”

“What do you think?” Braelin asked the Crushfern.

It shivered - then ambled under the table to Kloy. Jurao leaned up to watch it half climb into the Physician’s lap, making Kloy freeze in place. After a few moments, however, the Crushfern slid back down - leaving a collection of pale pink petals behind.

“Ah,” Kloy said, scooping them out of his lap and into a pouch, “Thank you.”

Braelin smiled, leaning over to pat the Crushfern as it returned to his side, “Maybe Petal, then? For a name.”

The Crushfern climbed up the side of Braelin’s chair enough to gently pat at his face before sliding back down.

“Petal it is,” the human decided with a chuckle.

Breakfast passed without much more fuss, and Jurao went with his partner to the gardens afterward as planned.

A small crowd of former groundskeepers gathered outside the entrance to the Gardening Office, talking amongst themselves and shooting glances at Milve, who stood well apart. Owren was leaning on the fence to watch from the cottage half of the building, raising a mug in greeting when he spotted them. Gaele stood closer to the group, smoothing their usual braid with their hands before noticing Braelin and Jurao approaching.

“Your highness!” they flinched and bowed, “Good morning!”

Jurao raised a hand in acknowledgment as the crowd of gardening staff did the same, though Milve only inclined his upper body briefly. The High Priest was glaring at Petal with pursed lips, but clearly did not intend to speak on it.

“Good morning, everyone,” Braelin said, softly as usual, “We’ll be joined by High Priest Milve for the time being.”

Gaele handed Braelin a stack of papers they’d kept under their arm, “I worked out a roster for everyone - it rotates each month, so everyone gets time working in each garden, just liked you asked!”

“Thank you, Gaele,” Braelin smiled, “I’m not very good at organizing people, so I’m glad I have your help.”

The lordis smiled brightly, “Of course! That’s what I’m here for!”

Milve scoffed and rolled his eyes.

Gaele chuckled nervously, “Is there anything else you need…?”

Braelin sighed, “No, thank you - you can return to your usual work.”

Gaele looked highly relieved to hear so, bowing to Jurao again before taking off - though for once, it seemed, more to escape Milve’s disapproval than their own admiration.

“Now then,” the Royal Gardener said, “I’ll walk around to check your work and answer any questions, but feel free to leave as I call out your assignment for the month - Huvae, Vaori, and Miste will be in the Kitchen Garden.”

The trio seemed relieved, bowing as they passed Jurao on their way to the nearest of the gardens.

“Lajeo, Exkla, and Omesti, the Bewitching Garden,” Braelin went on, “Moyla, Imena, and Iesti, the Embracing Garden.”

While the second trio did not appear enthused, the third looked like they dreaded their assignment - which was understandable given the Embracing Garden’s reputation.

“Exae, Apan, and Juvae, the Mocking Garden,” his partner continued, nodding to his staff as they went, “Gnare, Klaen, and Milene, the Pond Garden. Canae, Kaosti, and Hascel, the Gentle Garden. Jougo, Faekke, and Exena, the Rose Garden. Varin, Egeve, and Naene, the Labyrinthine Hedge.”

Jurao watched as the rest filed out as assigned, varying amounts of enthusiasm and dread on their faces as they bowed to him on their way.

“And where should I go, oh Beloved of My Lady?” Milve demanded.

Braelin sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck, “I suppose you’ll be with me as I make my rounds to check on everyone - but excuse me a moment.”

Jurao watched as Braelin went to greet his uncle, but remained where he was as Milve approached.

“Your highness,” the Priest asked lowly, “It has come to my attention that… that man is your romantic partner.”

“Yes,” Jurao said, “What of it.”

Braelin and Owren were discussing the groundskeepers - Owren was surprised by the acuity of demon hearing. It made Jurao smile to himself, though he kept his focus on his own conversation.

“Do you mean to intimidate me with your presence?” Milve asked sourly.

“I have no need,” the King replied, “As you saw last night, you would not be able to harm Braelin within the confines of the gardens. I am here as morale support, nothing more.”

Braelin was also introducing Petal to his uncle, who seemed much less impressed by the Crushfern than the other Department Heads had been.

Milve scoffed, “Is your partner so weak as to need you to hold his hand?”

“High Priest Milve,” Jurao said, finally turning to face the man, “While I respect Iescula, you are a guest in my castle. A guest who has already been chastened by his own goddess - if you continue to disparage my partner, I will no longer consider you a guest.”

Milve flinched, then growled, “Of course, my… apologies.”

“And as it happens,” the King added, “I quite like holding hands with my partner.”

The High Priest stared at him with a clear look of confusion. After a few moments, he asked, “What?”

“I like holding hands with Braelin,” Jurao repeated, “It’s a nice feeling. It has nothing to do with strength.”

“... what?” Milve repeated.

“I am very strong,” the King explained further, “Which proves holding hands is not about being weak.”

“That…” the High Priest blinked several times, “That’s not…”

Jurao waited for the man to elaborate.

“What?” Milve said yet again - but clearly to himself as he looked away from the King.

Before Jurao could consider his response, his partner returned.

“Alright,” Braelin said, “It’s time for the morning walkthrough.”