“Lord Braelin, I’m Petty Princelin Doys of Coujieul,” ce greeted with a bow, arriving to the evening meal earlier than cer fellows, “My father wished for me to request that you train my younger sister as a gardener.”

  “Oh,” Braelin said, seated next to Jurao as usual, “We’ve actually begun construction of a school for gardening - but she’s welcome to join me during my afternoon walks of the gardens to check my staff’s work in the meantime.”

  Ah, Jurao thought, That expins why ce was looking for him earlier.

  Hujur had come to his office after the midday meal, and they had gone over more details about each of the new petty royals now in residence, as well as their retinues. The Steward had also suggested he and Braelin take their seats early - so the petty royals might introduce themselves as they arrived, hopefully lessening the distress on the gardener.

  Petty Princelin Doys Vasulevul was the second oldest child of Petty King Melikas. Ce had brought cer sister, Petty Princess Zizis, three valets, and two guards. Zizis was only just an adult at two hundred years old, and like Petty Prince Kylse, the guards were primarily for her rather than her sibling. Doys was considered an odd choice for future heir - ce was better known as a ferry captain, primarily taking the route between Coujieul and Mavasnier to ensure essential goods like food arrived on time. Which made the harpoon on cer back less of a surprise.

  “She is not joining us,” Jurao asked.

  “He’s asking,” Braelin added gently.

  “No, she is not,” Doys bowed cer head, face still impressively neutral, “She… is recovering from river sickness.”

  “Ah,” Jurao nodded, “I hope she feels better soon.”

  Doys looked at the King but said nothing.

  “A Vasulevul that gets river sick is weird, isn’t it?” Petty Prince Saerma Voygae asked, entering the hall and half dragging Petty Princelin Voysh behind him, “River travel is your whole thing.”

  The corner of Doys’s mouth twitched, but ce merely bowed and left the hollow center of the table to take cer seat.

  “Good evening, your highness,” Saerma passed cer and sketched a bow, “And Lord Braelin.”

  Saerma was the youngest son of Petty King Losume and an accomplished engineer. It was rare for Voygaes to take up either bcksmithing or engineering, for all that they ruled the city of smiths that housed many siren engineers. Hujur’s research suggested his less courtly demeanor was because of this - it had previously been his oldest brother in line for the throne. It seemed Jurao’s Ascension - and style of rulership - was causing many Petty Kings to rethink who was best suited to rule.

  It was likely his engineering background that was the reason for the two arquebuses on his back, and that he wore asymmetrical geometric patterned clothing with squared cuts and many side slits that Jurao had only seen sirens wear previously. It was also likely why his retinue included only three fellow engineers - two sirens and another demon, and all his partners.

  Braelin gnced back at Doys and said, “I think it was a bit rude to say that, Petty Prince Saerma.”

  “Yeah?” Saerma asked, reminding Jurao of Gnori by the volume of his voice. He, too, found Doys with his gaze and called out, “I didn’t mean anything by it, Doys!”

  “I am aware,” Doys said, at a normal volume from cer seat - but added, “It was rude, though.”

  “Sorry for that,” Saerma shrugged. He seemed genuine to Jurao, if not particurly repentant - but the supposed the matter was more between Doys and Saerma than anyone else.

  “G-good evening, your highness; Lord Braelin,” Voysh greeted, bowing more properly. As another point in favor of reconsiderations - Voysh Jiesouvise had not been intended as an heir until after Jurao’s successful siege of Naengaquena. Fos was not from the main line of Jisouvise heirs - rather, the child of the Artisan Guildmaster and the Petty King from a brief courtship that ended amicably enough. The Guildmaster had not even intended Voysh as her heir - and it seemed fos appointment was a point of contention within the city.

  It did much to expin fos nerves, though it was still unclear why Petty King Cokor had chosen fos as her intended successor. Fos had a rger retinue - three valets selected by fos Guildmaster mother, and three guards selected by fos royal mother.

  “I heard the fae enchanter with the magic engine is working in the castle with Nevve Maesculiken,” Saerma said, “I wanted to ask permission to join them.”

  “You would have to ask my aunt directly,” Jurao replied.

  Saerma nodded, “Fair enough.”

  The pair took their seats beside each other - though reports did not indicate the pair had previously met, it seemed the long friendship between Naenga and Mesescima prevailed as Voysh looked to Saerma for support.

  Exmarre, Oresti, and Kylse - with Scuscus the wastehound - arrived next. As they had already met Braelin and the King, they went directly to their seats after a bow from outside the hollow center.

  “So this is the human petty prince, eh?” Saerma asked, a few seats down from Oresti.

  “Um, yes,” the human petty prince replied, “I’m Kylse Naolosnaonar.”

  “One of them,” Braelin remarked.

  “Hm?” Saerma asked.

  “My brother Malson is also a human petty prince - through marriage to Petty Princess Jaevve Gaegaehado,” Braelin replied, “They prefer to have the evening meal with their daughters, as she is not representing Lajaonar.”

  “Ah,” Saerma nodded, then he added, “Do you want a gun, Kylse?”

  “Wh… what?” Kylse asked.

  “Humans are smaller and weaker than demons,” Saerma nodded again, “Short of magic, guns are the next best way to keep things equal. I mean, guns aren’t as lethal to us as they are to humans, but they pack a good punch!”

  Kylse didn’t seem to know how to respond to the offer.

  Exmarre chuckled, patting his nephew’s shoulder, “We’ll consider it; thank you, Saerma.”

  “Petty Prince Malson uses pistols with a magnetic enhancement mechanism and a revolving chamber that can be reloaded with a single cartridge,” Jurao said, “They are very effective.”

  Saerma whistled and grinned, “I’d love to get a look at those!”

  “My brother doesn’t mind showing his pistols to others,” Braelin chuckled, “He’s very proud of them.”

  “It sounds like he should be!” Saerma ughed.

  “Good evening, your highness, Lord Braelin,” Petty Princess Hane - having crossed the room during their conversation - bowed.

  “Good evening, Petty Princess Hane,” Jurao replied.

  Unlike the others, Hane Emaosken had been intended as her parent’s heir before Jurao’s Ascension. She was the third oldest of the Emaosken children and well-versed in the politics of the Beastkin Realm. She was noted to use seduction as a primary means of negotiation and poisons as a weapon. She had brought three valets and one guard.

  As she rose, she remarked, “Is that an original, Petty Prince Exmarre?”

  “It is,” Exmarre replied, wearing a dress made entirely of lines of multicolor tassels radiating out from the single shoulder it was on. He’d painted his lips a metallic bronze and used a simir color around his eyes. He added, “That dress is in the Reptilera fashion, is it not?”

  “It is,” Hane chuckled, batting her eyes as she pulled out the heavy, shimmery fabric to sway the skirt. She turned back and asked, “How do you find it, Lord Braelin?”

  There were several snorts and coughs from the Heads of Staff table behind them - and Jurao noticed a few of the guards stationed near the doors reacted simirly.

  Braelin looked back at his colleagues before answering, “It looks nice?”

  Hane bowed slightly, “Thank you, Lord Braelin.”

  As she went to take her seat, Petty Prince Scues passed her to greet them, “Good evening, your highness, Lord Braelin.”

  “Good evening,” Jurao replied, taking one of Braelin’s hands.

  His partner’s gaze was trailing toward the table now, and he shifted his weight uncomfortably. Though he did smile as Petal climbed into his p.

  Scues Gasiergemaemes had also been the intended heir of Engapoyo - two of his three guards were retired hunters, and the third was a young adult hunter still in training.

  “I went and slept through the initial greeting,” one of his guards yawned, patting the prince on the back, “Good evening, your highness - I’m Raoyl Mafokuraes.”

  “Oh, Grandmother, good evening,” Jurao replied.

  Braelin raised his head at that, surprised.

  Raoyl Mafokuraes was a trollish demon with blue-bck skin, pale pink banded markings, and bck hair pulled back into a braided bun. Her left two eyes were scarred shut - if he remembered correctly, due to an encounter with a tusk-faced hound. She wore beast hunter dark leathers, which showed several more scars from past hunts as the outfit did not cover her torso. One of her rger upper hands was missing two fingers, and the club end of her tail was notably battered compared to Jurao’s.

  She grinned, giving her grandson and his partner both a once over before saying, “Thought I should finally meet my grandson properly, being King and all.”

  “I’m honored to travel with a Mafokuraes,” Scues chuckled with a second bow, “And apologize - Raoyl asked me to keep her presence a secret if she was not awake when we arrived.”

  “No need for apologies,” Jurao replied, wondering if he should stand.

  “I remember you don’t like hugs, don’t worry,” Raoyl waved a hand, “But I hope you’ll show your grandma how she matches up in a spar.”

  “Of course,” Jurao replied, trail swaying as he considered the opportunity.

  “That’s two, now,” Braelin chuckled, squeezing his partner’s hand.

  “Two?” Raoyl asked.

  “My uncle also arrived - with Petty Prince Saerma,” Jurao expined.

  “Mesaes?” Raoyl grinned, then ughed, “Haven’t seen him since your moms got married! Can’t wait to see if he still thinks this old dy is pretty enough for clumsy handstands!”

  Saerma snorted, “Oldtimer seems like he’d melt on the floor before flirting…”

  “He just needs some liquid courage,” Raoyl said, “At least, it worked that way before.”

  Jurao thought to mention his uncle had said he still found older women attractive, but decided not to as the memory appeared embarrassing for him. For being over three thousand years old, Jurao thought his grandmother looked very spry - but then, that was common of beast hunter elders, as many kept active teaching the next generation.

  Raoyl was seated next to Saerma, Scues beside Oresti. Petty Princess Nevoni and her wife Okkik had arrived during Scues’s greeting and bowed from outside the table before sitting between Hane and Voyvok on the other side of the table. The still irate petty prince had bowed and taken his seat during Scues’s greeting, though it was more proper to wait until it was finished to do so. Jurao felt no desire to bring attention to it, however, and simply signaled for the meal to begin.

  As predicted, Braelin spent most of the meal with his gaze focused on his pte - and one hand csped in Jurao’s. Jurao himself was happy to hear about his family in Enga and the bands from his grandmother, learning that Scues’s young guard was his cousin Ena’s child, Devae. Raoyl was intrigued by the idea of taming crushferns for use by bands - though she quickly discarded the idea when she learned of their need to soak in basins. While it wasn’t as though crushferns strictly needed nightly soaks, it was still too much water for bands to easily carry with them between stops.

  The meal continued with more polite conversations from the other petty royals. Nevoni chatted happily with both her wife and Hane about baby Enaolos and how pleased she still was to meet a Beloved of her child’s patron. Hane attempted to engage Doys, who ignored her. Scues politely spoke with Oresti and Exmarre, occasionally joined by Kylse. Jurao imagined that the older pair would likely stop attending evening meals when their nephew was more comfortable - as that was the usual way of things.

  Saerma appeared to have a one-sided conversation with Voysh, where he spoke of the projects he’d worked on in Mesescima as an engineer. He did pause to give fos the opportunity to respond, but when fos did not, he filled the silence with more speech of his own. Voysh seemed relieved by this, from Jurao’s perspective.

  Nothing much of substance, but the King thought that made sense, as they were all only becoming acquainted.