The plants seemed curious about them as well – and had none of the hesitation the demon plants in their home realm did.

It didn’t bother Jurao – he obligingly held out his hands and stepped closer, as curious of the inspection as the plants giving it, “How did you make them so tame.”

Feyl was far less enthused, backing up to the door when he lost Jurao as a shield, “No offense, but I’d rather they didn’t touch me – I’ve seen what the ones at home can do.”

At this, the plants reaching for the valet pulled back – drooping as though saddened by the statement. The Laughing Birds even started imitating crying.

“There, there,” Braelin told them, patting the heads of the Laughing Birds, “Of course, most demons are going to be afraid of you – you’re strong and ruthless defenders in their realm.”

This seemed to perk the plants up – or perhaps it was just their gardener’s proximity.

“I didn’t do anything in particular,” Braelin turned back to Jurao, “I just raised them with the same love and care I do all my plants. I understand gardening isn’t really a practice in the Demon Realm?”

“It is not,” Jurao confirmed, “Though perhaps it would be good to start it – a better rapport between the castle and the gardens would likely benefit everyone. Your sister-in-law mentioned you might have an interest in visiting our realm.”

“Jurao,” Feyl sighed, hesitantly creeping into the room as the plants gave him space to do so, “It’s too soon for that kind of invitation.”

“Is it?” Braelin asked, clearly disappointed.

“The summit hasn’t even occurred,” Feyl replied, plastering on a strained presentation smile, “Other diplomatic ventures would be better discussed after that’s settled, no?”

“Oh,” Braelin sighed, “Yes, I suppose it would put me in an ambassadorial role.”

“Exactly,” Feyl chuckled.

“Ah,” Jurao agreed as well, “But we already have ties with Jost, so I don’t see there being a problem.”

Feyl sighed, “Well… probably not…”

“Have you made any other hybrids,” Jurao asked.

“Yes,” Braelin nodded, “But it’s outside.”

“I find that more concerning,” Feyl chuckled.

“I have a frost garden as well – or rather, a garden of plants from the Winter Quadrant of the Elven Realm in honor of my stepmother. We grafted a Hangman Willow sapling with a Silverbeard Willow to see if that would help its temperature resistance.”

“Did it,” Jurao asked.

Braelin chuckled, “It did. Silverbeard Willows generate heat – many travelers will sleep under their branches to keep out of the snow and cold. We’ve taken to calling the hybrid a Scarf Willow – when it’s cold out, it wraps its branches around anyone passing by. Sometimes, it even drops them like scarves. We’ve yet to determine how long they retain heat, though it’s at least a few years.”

“That sounds useful,” Jurao said – primarily thinking of Beast Hunters. Bands often traveled into the mountains, where it was much colder than the rest of the Demon Realm, and such a material would be quite helpful indeed.

“I’m surprised you’ve managed to get so many to grow at all, honestly,” Feyl added – hesitantly reaching out to pet one of the Laughing Birds, “Even the Beastkin Realm has trouble with it.”

“The biggest challenge has been soil with a high enough iron content,” Braelin nodded, “We got in some soil from the Demon Realm, and Hou’a studied it to see what might be the problem – high iron soil requires specific considerations for the plants, especially drainage.”

“I would not have considered the difference in soil to be so simple,” Jurao said.

“It isn’t,” Braelin smiled, nodding to the Laughing Birds again, “Demon iron and human iron have different… structures, as Hou’a put it.”

“Demon iron is more brittle by comparison,” Jurao agreed, well aware from his own background in blacksmithing.

“These are both unaltered Laughing Bird plants,” Braelin continued and patted the notably shorter one of the two, “This one is in high iron human soil, while that one,” he nodded to the regular-sized one, “Is planted in demon soil. They’re both full grown.”

“So human iron stunts them?” Feyl mused, “They seem otherwise healthy, though.”

The human nodded, “You’re right; other than size, nothing is inhibiting them. They do have a smaller, higher sound range, though.”

The smaller Laughing Birds demonstrated this by singing – the larger Laughing Birds adding a lower harmony.

“My sister has been teaching them music,” Braelin chuckled.

“Unfortunate that they’re stuck in place,” Feyl laughed, “You could make a pretty penny with them as a show.”

“They do enjoy performing,” the human agreed, patting one of the smaller flowers, “But Hou’a suspects that the way the plants evolved in the Demon Realm incorporates the iron from the soil in their cellular structure and that the structure of human iron is less fortifying than demon iron in some way.”

“Perhaps because the human iron doesn’t break apart?” Feyl suggested offhandedly, studying the plants, “Since Jurao mentioned demon iron is more brittle – perhaps the human iron’s lack of brittleness is causing the plants to be unable to stretch enough because it doesn’t break where demon iron would.”

Feyl, of course, knew more about the differences between the metals of the realms than Jurao – as he still did blacksmithing, whereas Jurao hadn’t been at a forge in a few centuries shy of a millennium. But, as his friend preferred others not to be aware of this, Jurao did not point this out.

“There’s a thought,” Braelin hummed, “I’ll pass it along to Hou’a – he’s the botanist,” the human chuckled, “He figures out why things work. I just figure out if they do.”

Jurao chuckled, “You don’t need to understand a poison to know it’ll kill you.”

“I have an assassin friend who would agree,” Braelin laughed, “How did they phrase it… ah – figuring out why a poison killed someone only serves the people it didn’t kill.”

“You… have an assassin friend? Jost employs assassins?” Feyl chuckled in disbelief.

“Soth isn’t under our country’s employ,” Braelin clarified, “They just happened to stop in a beastkin restaurant in the city I and Hou’a frequent on their way home to the Kinfolk Realm.”

“They’re a kinfolk,” Jurao asked.

“Yes – and a poison-eater, so poisons and toxins are a particular interest of theirs,” the human explained.

“… you knew he was asking a question?” Feyl asked.

“Was I not meant to?” Braelin asked.

“I am told I do not use the proper tone when asking questions,” Jurao replied, “And others do often struggle to tell I have asked a question.”

“Oh,” Braelin said, “It seemed obvious to me, but I am… often told I am odd.”

“I can see people saying that,” Feyl arched his brows, looking around the greenhouse.

“I don’t think that’s so bad,” Jurao said, “People say I’m odd as well, but I usually find others act in odd ways more than I do.”

Braelin chuckled, “I find that to be true as well… ah, your highness.”

Feyl snorted but was amused as he asked, “There’s a beastkin restaurant in the city?”

“Beastkin’s Bounty,” Braelin nodded, “I’m friends with the owner, Yheor – she’s a horticulturist chef.”

“I imagine she’s about to have a nice boost in business,” Feyl chuckled, “With demons looking for more familiar food options.”

“She stocked up in preparation for it,” the human agreed, “She even got in a shipment of demon food stock for more options. She has a garden behind her restaurant – some of the demon plants I’ve gotten are there instead of here.”

“I wonder if they would grow bigger in soil from the Beastkin Realm,” Jurao considered, “Though their metals are much softer, so even in high iron soil, they might not be able to grow…”

“I have often heard that demon plants struggle there,” Feyl said, “At least, any that aren’t grasses or oats.”

“I’m sure Hou’a would love to experiment on that count,” Braelin chuckled, “Ah, but I shouldn’t keep you too late – I know the summit doesn’t start until next week, but I’m sure you had a long trip.”

“Yes, thank you,” Jurao nodded, “I will come again – if you do not mind.”

“The gardens are open to all guests,” the human smiled, “Come as often as you like, your highness – I wish more people would come to the greenhouse, honestly. The plants get lonely, and I can only spend so much time with them.”

“Lonely, of course,” Feyl chuckled – but didn’t jump away from a curious caustic fern this time.

They made their farewells before returning to their guest rooms – Feyl electing to share the bed with Jurao due to their unfamiliar surroundings.

“I can see why you like him,” Feyl said, stretching before laying down, “You’ve a similar way about you – the two of you, I mean.”

“I can see that,” Jurao agreed, “Did you enjoy discussing metals.”

“I liked it well enough,” Feyl replied with a snort, settling until they were back to back. He yawned, “Though I need to find a more exciting bed partner soon…”

“You also seemed to enjoy Braelin’s company,” Jurao suggested.

Feyl laughed, “He might be too exciting! Handsome as he is, I wouldn’t want to make the plants jealous – I know what they can do.”

Jurao hummed, consciousness slipping away, “Good night, Feyl.”

“Good night,” his friend replied with a yawn.

As was his usual way, Jurao rose early the next morning – heading out to the training fields in the castle courtyard, having been invited to use them by their hosts. Since they were outside the Demon Realm, he no longer had his tenfold strength, and it was exciting to really be able to work on his forms again. He’d roused Feyl simply to let his friend know he was leaving, but the valet had chosen to tag along – in his own words, to look for ‘diplomatic opportunities’ with the soldiers.

They were both surprised to see Braelin training with the Captain of the Guard, Beneford.

“Good morning, your highness,” Beneford called out, bringing the light spar to a halt as he saw them.

“Good morning,” Jurao replied and asked, “Polearms.”

Braelin sighed, letting the practice warhammer rest on his shoulder, “Ben says it suits my build best.”

Beneford shook his head, “The King and princess have the morning off since they were attending feast activities all night – not that either needs me to force them.”

“You’re not a fan of fighting, Braelin?” Feyl asked, lounging back on a nearby fence.

“No,” the gardener replied, “But sometimes it is necessary. And I can’t use magic like Meir’ril, so here I am.”

“That makes sense,” Jurao nodded, “Apologies, we did not intend to interrupt.”

“I’m just here to enjoy the show, really,” Feyl waved a hand as he looked over the field, “Not much of an early riser otherwise.”

“Of course,” Beneford snorted, then inclined his head to Jurao before taking a few steps back and readying himself, “Let’s continue, then.”

Braelin sighed but also readied himself.

Curious how the gardener did in combat, Jurao joined Feyl at the fence – just to watch for a bit before starting his own routine, at least.