Braelin started his walkthrough in the same order he’d given out assignments to his staff. Petal ranged around - examining the gardens while periodically returning to the Royal Gardner’s side.
“Generally,” the human said, mainly for Milve’s benefit, “Mornings are for a few related tasks - checking for debris to be removed, making sure the water levels in the clay pots are good, and looking out for signs of pests or disease.”
Milve sniffed, “Clay pots?”
“An irrigation system I learned about while still in the Human Realm,” Braelin said, crouching down next to the nearest one, “Unglazed clay pots filled with water - it will seep out at the rate the soil is able to absorb, so is generally a lot less work than bringing buckets around.”
“Fenao is assigned to refilling them now,” one of the new gardeners added and ventured, “I heard, Lord Braelin, you asked the Civil Smiths about some kind of… well ‘pump’?”
Braelin nodded, “It must be tiring to haul up buckets of water - I heard about a piece of siren engineering that could bring water up by use of a pump. Nevve said she’d get in contact with one of their guilds and see if it was viable to make.”
“Ah,” Jurao nodded, “She did train under a few master siren smiths.”
“We couldn’t have afforded siren engineering in Jost,” Braelin smiled, “Not when we didn’t strictly need it, anyway. But it’s nice to have more freedom to look into these kinds of things, at least.”
Milve snorted, tail twitching, “So it’s not just the plants you intend to coddle, then.”
Braelin frowned, “I really don’t see how making work a little easier is coddling - someone still has to do the work. It just takes less effort.”
“Hard work is a show of personal discipline!” the High Priest replied, stamping his staff on the ground, “Complacency is death!”
It was a common saying in the Demon Realm - particularly amongst the older generation and those living outside of the cities. Jurao had heard it plenty of times in his life and thought little of it.
“But this isn’t complacency,” Braelin’s frown deepened, “Finding better ways to do something is progress. Faster, easier - once you can do basic tasks with less work, you have time to do more than you did before. Would you call using a knife to cut complacency?”
“What?” Milve arched his right brows.
“Demons have sharp claws,” Braelin replied, then nodded towards the dagger on the priest’s waist, “So why do you carry a knife? Shouldn’t you be able to just use your claws?”
“That,” the High Priest pursed his lips.
“You could make do with your claws,” the human sighed, making his way to the next garden, “But it would take more time than a blade, which is better suited to any task you’d use it for instead of your claws. Tools and technology are not complacency - not by themselves, anyway.”
Milve made no reply, though his sour expression did not lift as he followed.
Jurao felt… proud. He’d no doubt Braelin could stand up for his decisions regarding the gardens - after all, he’d properly chastised all the Heads of Staff on only his second day of appointment. But there was something satisfying in seeing the deft way his partner handled the confrontation - it made him wonder if perhaps he hadn’t been needed after all.
When they approached the Bewitching Garden through the path from the Kitchen Garden, the Fire Blossom bushes lit up to attempt to block Milve’s path.
“These unruly-” the High Priest started.
“Thank you, but it’s alright,” Braelin said, interrupting, “He’s not going to attack the shrine today, and Iescula did ask me to teach him.”
The fires died down slowly, as if reluctant - but they did extinguish.
Milve did not seem any more pleased by this but did not comment.
“Lord Braelin?” one of the gardeners approached cautiously.
“Just Braelin is fine,” the human said, “But go on.”
They glanced at Milve, tail twitching as they said, “Some nobles have been asking about the shrine - if Iescula really did visit it and if that makes it alright to make her offerings there.”
Braelin scratched at his chin, looking to the High Priest.
Petal, at the human’s side once more, wrapped a few tendrils around his ankle.
“My Lady deemed the shrine worthy of her presence,” Milve replied woodenly, glaring at his former familiar, “Therefore, it is worthy of receiving her offerings. But it is not an extension of Her temple.”
“Of course, your grace,” the gardener bowed - then hesitated before simply nodding to Braelin, “Thank you for the clarification.”
With that, Petal went off again - exploring the Bewitching Gardens as well.
“What kinds of offerings are appropriate to Iescula?” Braelin asked, holding up a hand to stall his staff member from leaving.
Milve scoffed, “Plants or stone - fruit, flowers, crustacean shells used to fortify the earth packed between the stone of the walls, bricks - those sorts of things. But none of those fruits from the human hybrids we just left - honestly, barely warrant the name of demon plants…”
“Human hybrids?” Braelin blinked, looking back toward the path, “The Kitchen Garden plants are hybrids with human plants?”
Milve waved a hand, “Yes, yes, one of Lavven’s many initiatives to create a ‘better demon future.’ I cannot fault the utility of making docile plants for harvesting, but they can no longer be considered the children of My Lady after such tampering. At least these elven breeds retain their deadly force.”
One of the Howling Shrubs nearby shook - then leaned back to launch a ball of snow into the High Priest’s face.
“Human hybrids,” Braelin cupped his chin, ignoring the last part, “Does the temple have records of this?”
Milve sputtered, wiping the snow off his face, “They dare to-”
“You insulted their friends,” Braelin replied, “These two gardens are right next to each other, and they can talk in their own way. They don’t like you badmouthing the Kitchen Garden,” the human looked to the shrub with a soft smile, “But please don’t do that again.”
The shrub swayed, but Jurao did not know if that signaled agreement or not.
The High Priest huffed but said, “Yes, the temple has records of the event occurring - why?”
“The books in the castle library didn’t mention it,” Braelin said, “If possible, I’d like to know more about the hybridization process, so I can work out the best way to care for the plants in the Kitchen Garden.”
“I’m not surprised,” Milve snorted, “People in these cities would rather ignore Lavven’s ties to the Human Realm while enjoying his perversions of Iescula’s children - but we do not forget! I-”
He was cut off by one of the Crystal Hydra trees hitting him on the head with a branch - not enough to do any real damage, but it certainly got its point across.
Braelin sighed but could not hide his smile as he said, “I would prefer if none of you caused High Priest Milve further harm, please.”
All the plants around them shuffled and swayed - and this time, Jurao caught the feeling that it was an act of innocence on their part.
It made him stifle a laugh of his own.
Milve growled, then sighed, “Yes, I can have the temple send copies of our records - they do not detail the blasphemous process, but they do include which of your human plants were used.”
“Thank you,” Braelin said, then asked, “Would it be appropriate to set up a collection box if anyone wanted to offer funds to the temple, or is that not a demon practice?”
“It,” Milve paused, “You would collect funds for the temple?”
“Whatever you feel towards me personally, or I you,” Braelin replied, looking askance, “I have much to thank Iescula for - even if I were not Beloved, she is the patron of the plants in my care, and her favor allowed me to have the privilege of looking after them. I have no issue with supporting her temple as part of my thanks. This shrine was meant to express my respect for her and her children - I included Wylylendra’s likeness due to the elven hybrid plants here. Now that I know there are human hybrids as well, Dwarla also seems more appropriate.”
Petal ambled back over to them then, hunkering down next to Braelin and wrapping a few leafy tendrils around his ankle again in affection.
The High Priest’s tail twitched, but his tone was neutral as he replied, “It would be appropriate.”
Braelin nodded, then turned to his staff member, “If you could make a note of it in the office, Gaele can request one - ah?”
“Exkla,” they said, inclining their head. They offered Jurao a partial bow, “Your Highness.”
Jurao nodded back, watching them jog off with a wave to their fellows.
“Exkla,” Braelin repeated to himself, then nodded, “Everything else looks fine here, then - to the Embracing Garden.”
Perhaps it would be alright to make my way back, Jurao thought. He did enjoy witnessing the affection the Gardens had for his partner, but he also had work of his own to do and did not seem to be needed.
“Even these…?” Milve muttered to himself, watching the purely demonic plants reach out to their caretaker as he passed.
“Did you believe,” Jurao asked, “The other gardens only like him because they are hybrids.”
“Of course!” Milve replied.
“Despite Petal,” the King asked.
“Despite… what?” the High Preist asked.
“Petal,” Jurao replied, waving a hand towards the Crushfern, “Your former familiar. It also took a fast liking to Braelin, despite not being a hybrid.”
“Petal?” Milve asked, then groaned, rubbing his forehead, “Petal?”
“At breakfast, Kloy - the Royal Physician - asked for some of its flowers for medicinal use,” Braelin said, near enough to overhear them even with only human hearing, “That made me think of it - and Petal likes it.”
The Crushfern was currently interacting with the Stranglehold Vines - if Jurao had to guess, playing some kind of game of tug of war, by the look. But it paused long enough to wave a few tendrils in the human’s direction and one of the Vines nearest Braelin rubbed the man’s cheek affectionately in affirmation.
“Do you name all of the plants?” Milve drawled.
“Most of them,” Braelin replied, “But I usually keep the names to myself - humans didn’t think much of me doing so, either.”
“I would like to know the names,” Jurao smiled.
Braelin returned the expression and tapped one of the vines wrapped loosely around his arm, “There are a few main bodies of Stranglehold Vines - about three per trellis. This one is Grippy - next to it is Presser, then Wrapsy, Crushely, Kneader, Huggsy, Wringer, Patter, Squashly, Squisher, Squeezy,” Bralein pointed them out as he listed - there were four trellises per corner of the garden. The human could pick each one out with ease, “And then I ran out of ways to make a name from what they do, so the rest are Kylen, Busan, Jaeley, Parah, and Tonner.”
Jurao chuckled, “And how do you name the flowers.”
“Ah, there are too many, so I don’t,” Braelin conceded, though his face had started to flush for some reason. He looked away to add, “I have named the Coffin Gourds, though.”
“Perhaps you could regale his highness with more names at another time,” Milve sighed, looking generally disgusted.
“Yes, I do think it’s time to move on,” the human replied, clearing his throat as he headed towards the Mocking Garden.
Jurao frowned as he tried to puzzle out the strange behavior - then flinched, pausing as he suddenly remembered their conversation from the day before. He felt his own face flush, studiously avoiding looking at the Stranglehold Vines, tail swishing as he followed after his partner a few steps further behind than before.
“Are you… alright, your highness?” Milve asked, looking between the pair in confusion.
“Yes, thank you,” Jurao said, not looking at the man.
He still hadn’t come up with an answer as to whether or not he was interested in having sex with his partner - in fact, he hadn’t even thought of it again until that moment. But now was not the place for such a conversation, he knew, so he also focused on his surroundings.
The Mocking Garden was so named for the deceptive nature of many of the plants within - the Laughing Birds were tall, colorful flowers able to repeat simple sounds, including short bursts of speech. They swayed into Braelin while vocalizing gentle laughter, similar to a flock of real birds - right down to the mouths filled with sharp, teeth-like spines.
Wooly Moss grew in large brown, gray, and blond balls that ranged the area - in the wild, it would often be mistaken for an animal. While it was safe to touch, it became a deadly poison once ingested - usually, its prey would die near enough for the moss to settle on top of and absorb the corpse into itself to feed on. A few rolled over to greet Braelin, and Petal seemed quite taken by the large moss balls. It climbed on top of one of the nearest ones, waving tendrils in the air.
What made the moss effective within the castle gardens was the Blooming Antler Branches growing out of them - a symbiotic relationship that both made the moss look more like an animal and could produce a sap toxic to the touch, and cause that sap to seep out from the rest of the Wooly Moss ball. Jurao noted the way the plants kept their fake, also toxic to the touch antlers well away from the human - though it did have a slightly comical effect of making them appear turned around.
The Trapdoor Stumps placed around the gardens appeared, as the name implied, as tree stumps - but that was actually the top part of a root plant, with a mouth that could painfully drag prey down a tunnel of inverse spikes to be crushed to death and ingested in the main body underground. Planted around them were Joy Blossoms, which gave off euphoria-inducing pollen meant to confuse and lower the guard of those nearby.
“You were correct,” Milve said, watching Braelin move easily through the gathering herd of Wooly Moss, “I truly could not harm this man within these gardens.”
“No,” Jurao smiled to himself, “You could not.”
