“You’re not championing your partner?” Ergirri asked.

  “It’s Braelin’s preference that his opponents face a human,” Jurao replied.

  “I’ll see if Petty Prince Malson can be found,” Kloy said, waving as he split from their group.

  “Petty Prince?” Voyvok demanded.

  “Braelin’s brother is married to Petty Princess Jaevve Gegaehado,” Forvi supplied, “Making him a Petty Prince.”

  Voyvok huffed a growl but made no further comment.

  “The representative from Noskanar is also a human Petty Prince,” Jurao remarked.

  “Really?” Vallen asked.

  “A ward adopted by the current Petty King,” Jurao nodded, “He arrived by wyvern with his uncle, Petty Prince Exmarre.”

  “Perhaps more challenges need to be made,” Voyvok scoffed.

  “I imagine his uncle will champion him,” Jurao replied, “He was my strongest opponent during the Royal Trials, so you are aware.”

  Voyvok grumbled without another comment.

  They found Braelin in the Mocking Garden - unsurprisingly checking up on the burrowing spider tree. It had found a corner of the garden to dig into, and Braelin was overseeing some gardening staff members burying an animal corpse beneath it for sustenance.

  Braelin looked over as Snip and Snap ran to Petal as usual, the hounds joining the crush fern in running with the wooly moss.

  “Lord Braelin,” Voyvok opened immediately, “I am Petty Prince Voyvok of Gaevoyga. I challenge you to a duel to the death.”

  Jurao flinched in surprise. Duels to the death were very rare, and he certainly had not anticipated one.

  Ergirri growled, equally displeased, “That is not what your parents wanted.”

  “That was when we assumed the King would champion him,” Voyvok growled, “If he is not, there is no reason for restraint.”

  Braelin sighed, rubbing his neck, “It was bound to happen eventually. Very well, I accept. This way.”

  “What?” Voyvok blinked, apparently taken aback by the easy acceptance.

  “I choose the field of combat, yes?” Braelin replied, “I choose the Embracing Gardens.”

  Forvi snorted, then coughed to cover it as he said, “This should be over quickly…”

  Jurao thought he probably should be concerned as he followed along - but it was difficult to be so when the outcome of the duel was already evident.

  Voyvok seemed less certain of his choice as they arrived at the gardens, watching the way the pnts affectionately greeted their gardener. The numbing vines rubbed their getinous bulbs against Braelin’s head and shoulder, keeping their stinging tendrils carefully wrapped up their stem and away from the man.

  “Just so you are aware,” Braelin stated, patting them as he headed for the stranglehold vines, “I will not kill you. If you wish to rescind your challenge, I will also accept. If you wish to lower your challenge, my brother is my champion.”

  There was a purpose to saying as much - being spared by an opponent in a duel to the death came with a rge amount of shame. While Jurao knew it was not Braelin’s intention, when it was the challenged that did the sparing, it was often seen as saying the challenger was not worth the effort of killing. That was, that they did not pose a continued threat to the challenged. When the challenger did the sparing, it was usually seen as a mark of respect - combat leading the challenger to change their mind about their opponent’s worth.

  While rescinding or lowering a challenge to a non-lethal duel also carried some embarrassment, it was far less than being spared.

  This statement, however, seemed to incense Voyvok rather than encourage him to change his mind. He growled and said, “My challenge stands.”

  “As you wish,” Braelin said and turned to the vines to add, “Just restrain him, please.”

  “Prince Ergirri, if you would give the count,” Voyvok said.

  Braelin’s brows rose in surprise as he looked at the previous Demon King.

  Ergirri rolled his eyes before sighing and obliged with an unenthusiastic: “On my mark… go.”

  Braelin did not so much as flinch as Voyvok charged him - but then, as the vines quickly shot forward to pick the young man off the ground, he hardly needed to. Voyvok struggled vainly as the vines pulled his warhammer out of his grasp, securing all four arms against his sides and keeping him suspended in the air.

  Braelin gnced up at his opponent before shrugging and walking over to the rest of them, asking, “Former King Ergirri?”

  Ergirri cackled as he looked back at Voyvok before he turned his attention to Braelin. He held out a hand to shake, “One and the same! I’ve heard much of you from my children!”

  Braelin smiled as he shook, “And I of you. Pleasure to meet you.”

  “I’m not going to yield!” Voyvok decred, “I- augh!”

  The petty prince pulled his legs up to his body as a numbing vine whipped out to sting him - though Jurao did note that it only hit him with one stinging tendril, clearly showing restraint.

  “What happened!?” Malson demanded, jogging just ahead of Kloy to join them.

  “Petty Prince Voyvok challenged me to a duel to the death,” Braelin replied, looking back at his opponent.

  “It’ll be a blow to his pride,” Vallen mused, “But I am sure his parents will be gd for his life - and perhaps it will deter others. I’m Vallen, Ergirri’s conis.”

  “The numbing vine stings shouldn’t leave any sting damage,” Kloy added, watching as Voyvok yelped while being stung again, “I do have antivenom, but such small stings will heal well enough on their own.”

  “After stinging for hours,” Ergirri cackled again.

  Kloy shrugged, “But he’ll live.”

  After another round of introductions for both Malson and Braelin’s sake, Hujur appeared again.

  “My lord,” the Steward paused, watching Voyvok get stung for perhaps the fifth time, “Am I… interrupting something?”

  “A duel to the death,” Braelin replied.

  Hujur nodded in comprehension, “I see. Well, the Petty Princess of Messaonars has also arrived - it seems a good day for arrivals.”

  “Gaevoyga and Messaonars aren’t too far apart, really,” Ergirri observed, “Who else pns to arrive for the Feast?”

  “Engapoyo and Mesescima are pnned,” Hujur replied, “Though, with Noskanar and Enga representatives, I would not be surprised if Mavasnier and Coujiel sent a representative earlier than usual.”

  “Naenga will probably send someone with the Mesescima representative,” Vallen said, “They usually travel together.”

  “I will make arrangements for that, then,” Hujur nodded, taking down notes, “The Petty Princess said she will wait to greet you at the evening meal, my lord, but I wanted to make you aware she was here.”

  “Thank you, Hujur,” Jurao stated.

  “Why did Noskanar send someone so early?” Klone asked, “With Joron in charge, I wouldn’t think they were against Jurao.”

  “Petty Prince Exmarre has been hired as the Royal Tailor,” Hujur smiled, “Joron asked his brother to bring his ward along with him as he came to fill the position.”

  “A Royal Tailor?” Ergirri tilted his head - then grinned and ughed, adding, “Well, you certainly aren’t letting things remain as they were, my boy!”

  “Yes,” Jurao agreed, “Though I am uncertain what a Royal Tailor will fully entail. I thought it would be most useful for the Hundred Years Ball, as I intend to have diplomatic talks with a representative of the Empire.”

  “How do you intend to do that?” Ergirri asked.

  “I asked the Entertainer to invite one, and it agreed,” Jurao said.

  Ergirri chuckled darkly, “Oh, this will be a more interesting Hundred Years Ball than I expected.”

  “I’ll have the Great Hall set for the evening meal,” Hujur said, then gnced at Braelin before adding, “With so many representatives already here, we’ll be moving evening meals there permanently for Heads of Staff and royalty.”

  “That makes sense,” Braelin nodded.

  As Braelin could not leave the field until Voyvok yielded, the midday meal was brought out to them.

  “This isn’t very dramatic, as a duel to the death,” Ayelma mused, looking up at the petty prince.

  “The tension does wane as time goes on,” Kloy agreed - joining them due to Ergirri’s presence. He sighed and looked over as well, “Though if he doesn’t give up soon, I may have to give him antivenom so he doesn’t go into shock…”

  The numbing vines seemed to angle themselves towards their party for a moment - and one struck out a final time at the petty prince before they hung themselves on the roofed metal trellis covering part of the Embracing Gardens.

  “Cheeky things,” Ergirri chuckled.

  “The pnts really don’t like when people attack Braelin,” Gaele chuckled, “Um, your highness.”

  “So I’ve noticed,” Ergirri grinned, “And Egirri is fine, child.”

  “I didn’t realize they could be vindictive,” Eweylona chuckled - sharing a picnic bnket with Ebener, Ergirri, Vallen, and Kloy. She leaned into her husband to add, “Though I can’t say I disapprove, given the circumstances.”

  “I do hope it prevents more challenges,” Braelin sighed, “I don’t like embarrassing people, but there didn’t seem to be a point in killing him, either.”

  Jurao pet Snip’s head in his p, agreeing with the sentiment. He and his partner shared with Gaele, Malson, Jaevve, and Ayelma - Meir’ril was in the city that day, likely visiting Sazel’s shop again. Forvi had gone with Klone to help his sister settle in.

  Amancia and Henes were running from Snap and Petal - the four pying an odd game of hide-and-seek tag that Jurao wasn’t sure had actual rules.

  “You did offer him a chance to be less painfully embarrassed,” Vallen snorted, “Sometimes you need to eat the rock.”

  “What?” Ayelma asked.

  Braelin hummed, “Is that reted to the saying about how calling a rock a fish will make you worse than hungry?”

  “It is,” Vallen smiled - e had been a librarian alongside Carvve and enjoyed sharing knowledge. E went on, “The first is how eating a rock will likely cause internal damage, worse than going hungry. My iteration is about how some people are so stubborn they just have to eat the rock to realize why they shouldn’t.”

  Ayelma ughed, “That’s great!”

  “I yield.”

  Braelin got up with a sigh, walking over and patting the vines holding Voyvok aloft. He said, “Thank you, you can let him down now.”

  The petty prince almost fell once set on his legs - they were covered in numbing vine stinger welts and shook as he struggled to remain on his hooves. While most of the welts were on his legs, there was one that covered one of his cheeks - all darkening his skin from the bck blood pooling beneath. He gred at Braelin, then growled and used his warhammer as a support as he made his way out of the gardens.

  “I wonder if he’ll go to dinner,” Jaevve snorted.

  “He seems stubborn enough!” Malson replied.

  “I suppose we’ll see tonight,” Braelin sighed, rejoining them for their current meal.

  “My family does intend to send my sister as a representative,” Jaevve added, “Since I hardly know Lajaonar’s current political interests. Though I’m not sure if she’ll be here in time for the Feast.”

  “Did you already have pns, Kloy?” Ergirri asked.

  “Yes,” the doctor smiled, “I’ll be attending the royal event with my gieuls to support Jurao.”

  Ergirri choked on his drink, “Gieuls? You have gieuls?”

  “For about a month and a half now, yes,” Kloy chuckled, “You recall Jurao’s friend Feyl?”

  “The one that became his valet?” Ergirri asked.

  “That’s the one,” Kloy smiled.

  Vallen chuckled, “You awful man - seducing some poor young man.”

  “That ‘poor young man’ seduced me,” Kloy snorted, “Rather persistently. And I’m certainly gd he did, considering how compatible we are.”

  Ergirri shook his head, “Now you’re just bragging that people still think you’re attractive.”

  “Don’t be jealous, my thunder,” Vallen said, kissing eir husband’s temple, “I’m sure you could attract plenty of pretty valets if you wanted to.”

  Ergirri chuckled, turning his head to kiss eir on the lips, “Thanks for that.”

  “Is Feyl in the smithy today?” Ayelma asked.

  “He is,” Gaele replied, and chuckled, “Ierge keeps trying to convince him to split his time between the Civil and Weapons Smithies…”

  “Smithy?” Ergirri asked.

  Jurao was gd there was no longer an irate petty prince literally hanging over them as he and the others caught his predecessor up on the events he had missed that Forvi and Imena had not had time to write about.

  sbdrag