Placation

 

“Hal Devotia!” Cirene’s high and enthusiastic shriek calls out as Callie steps into the modest villa. Cirene pulls her into a quick hug, taking one of Callie’s hands in her own.

“Lady Cirene,” Callie inclines her head, smiling politely. 

“I’ve missed you,” she sighs, hugging Callie once more. “It feels like ages since I’ve gotten to see you.” 

“Yeah,” Callie murmurs. She hadn’t meant to keep Cirene at a distance, but ever since the library banquet where she’d disappeared with Calvin she felt guilty about her actions. But now, with Cirene as one of three people that Callie could see during her probation, it’s hard to stay away. 

Cirene leads her inside of her new villa. Like Lady Ramquet’s, who Cirene was thankfully no longer speaking with, Cirene’s home is comfortable and modest for the terms of the nobility. It could still easily house three or four families with room to spare, but it was at least more reasonable than the grand mansions many others in the Hill District possessed. 

They settle on the back porch, overlooking a well-kept garden of berry bushes and flowers. The early afternoon sun is carefully held at bay by a pleasant veranda overhang that throws shade over the two of them, as well as a soft breeze through the air. It’s so much quieter visiting a villa without a party at hand, and Callie appreciates the soft sounds of birds chirping and the bustle of the city over the hedges. 

“How are you, hal Devotia?” 

“You can just call me by my name, Cirene,” Callie smiles politely. 

“How are you, Callie?” 

“I’m…” She drifts off, allowing the silence to fill in the gaps in her words. “How much did Magister Velena tell you in her letter?” 

“All of it,” Cirene looks away, hiding a rosy blush on her face. “More detail than I thought would be needed.” 

“Right,” Callie sighs. 

“I’m so sorry, Callie,” Cirene directs them to sit down on a comfortable set of cushions on the floor, reclining comfortably amidst the marble columns holding the balcony above them. “It isn’t fair that they’re punishing you for the actions of a goddess. Not after everything you’ve done so far. Does it hurt?” 

Callie tries to hide the mild embarrassment on her face. “It’s more uncomfortable than anything.” She crosses her legs, wishing she had been able to wear her plainclothes instead of her Devotia dresses, but the bulge from the cage had made trousers untenable. After a few quiet moments, her guilt pushes her to speak next. “I wanted to apologize to you.” 

“For what?” Cirene turns around to gently retrieve a bottle of sweet champagne. Callie gratefully accepts a glass, appreciating that Cirene only likes drinks that are sweet and bubbly. 

“For the way I acted at the library.” 

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Cirene shakes her head, pouring herself a glass as well. “I’m not going to blame a Devotia for having a vision from Suul.” 

“I… I didn’t have a vision…” 

“Oh,” Cirene pauses, her brows lowering thoughtfully as she looks back at Callie. “Then… then what happened?” 

“I’m in love with Calvin,” Callie admits quietly, unable to meet Cirene’s gaze. “I was jealous of you and couldn’t take it anymore, so I pulled him away from you.” 

“I… I suspected,” Cirene sighs. 

“I feel horrible.” 

“Don’t,” she grabs one of Callie’s hands, squeezing it affectionately. “I understand.” 

Callie shakes her head. “No, it was rude and disrespectful of me to do that to you. I shouldn’t have acted like that.” 

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” Cirene frowns sympathetically. “I wouldn’t have been making a move on him if I knew.” 

“I’m a Devotia,” Callie replies simply. 

“And?” 

“No relationships, remember?” 

Cirene snorts, covering her mouth with an embarrassed hand and blushing. “That hardly stops anyone, does it?” 

“The vast majority of my time is spent worrying about it.” 

“Really? I’m pretty sure the Devotia in Fairmill has a girlfriend and a common law marriage.” 

“What?” Callie scowls, unsure if Cirene is serious or not. 

“I know it’s stricter here in the capital,” Cirene shrugs, taking a sip of the sweet champagne and savoring it, “but I just assumed you were taking things slow. Doesn’t Junivere have a husband?” 

“From before she was Devotia, it’s a special exemption,” Callie sits forward, trying to piece together Cirene’s perspective. “Do people know about the Devotia in Fairmill?” 

“He’s careful about it, but it’s not uncommon knowledge.” She looks up, trying to recall some piece of information that’s eluding her. “I can’t remember his name. Mierr or something like that.” 

Callie stares at Cirene for a long moment, amused by her confidence and developing charm. “You’re really coming into yourself aren’t you? You could hardly look me in the eyes when we first met and now…” 

“Now I’m the sexy new talk of the town,” she flips her golden hair, giggling. “At least in the Hill District, anyway.” 

“How does Mierr get away with it? Ellava was removed because of it, and Magister Velena keeps threatening me not to follow her path.” 

“I think it might’ve caused a fuss at first, but he’s a popular Devotia. There isn’t much desire to remove him.” 

Callie frowns. “Ellava was popular…” 

Cirene shrugs. “Can I tell you something about the nobility, Callie?” She waits, then explains, “Nothing is ever about the thing it’s about.” 

“It’s exhausting.” 

“It’s just how it goes,” the girl tells her. “If there were reasons to remove Meirr, and a desire from the right group of people, his relationships would be a convenient reason to do so. But he’s beloved, so they don’t.”

“Doesn’t excommunication work the same there?” 

Cirene takes a generous sip of wine and makes a soft noise of amusement as she holds her glass casually in her palm. “And here I was, hoping to make out with a Devotia.” 

Callie feels a pang of embarrassment at her distracted headspace. “Right, of course, I’m sorry.” She takes a drink. “You look beautiful.” 

Cirene giggles and waves her advancement away. “Well it’s no fun now that I know your heart’s not in it,” she complains amusedly. Callie grins with her, grateful. Cirene thinks for a moment, staring out into the garden, and tells her, “I believe the process works the same in Fairmill. Their Imperium is smaller, I think just three Magisters, but it’s still a unanimous vote to excommunicate.” 

Unanimous. 

Ellava was removed by a unanimous vote. 

Xamner didn’t protect her. 

She wrestles for a moment with the implications of that knowledge. Despite their assertions that they were working with Ellava, when it came down to it, Dynasa and Xamner could have protected her and chose not to. Why? For a moment, she wonders if they would just as readily dispose of her if the time came for it. 

Until, she realizes, the intervention of Yala had changed the equations. Callie is too fascinating, too much of an anomaly, to depose. They’d possibly never have another opportunity to study her new source of magic, nor the different possibilities of Suul’s wife intervening in the world. 

“So…” Callie muses aloud, “If I’m popular enough, and have support from a few Magisters…” 

Cirene sits up and stares at her. “I’m worried where this line-of-thinking is taking you.” 

“Cirene,” she insists, “I am horribly lonely and I can’t stand it any longer. I’m supposed to be this reflection of the loves and desires of everyone I meet, but as soon as I have loves and desires of my own, I am expected to somehow quell it.” 

“I thought you loved being Devotia,” Cirene says in a small voice. 

Letting her frustrations show even more, Callie mutters, “With the way these goddesses are acting I’m not sure it even matters if I like it.” Cirene is quiet, contemplating the depth of feeling coming from her, and Callie decides to charge ahead. “I was lonely for nearly all of my life, and now I’m somehow lonelier as Devotia, despite the fact that I am surrounded by people. But it’s like my heart has to be locked away in a glass box.” 

“That isn’t fair to you,” she sympathizes. 

“And now that Yala has picked me, now that I’m some magical anomaly, resignation is out of the question - which I almost did.” She runs her hands through her hair. “It’s comply and be lonely and disrespected, or disobey and be excommunicated.” 

“But, if you could insulate yourself from excommunication…” 

Callie nods, “Then there’s effectively no rules for me anymore. I’m free.” 

Cirene looks nervous as she asks, “And what would you do if that was the case?” 

“Just… just have Calvin,” she exhales longingly. “For real. No limits, no curfews. If I could just have him, all the rest would be manageable.” She shakes her head. “But with Velena’s restrictions, I can’t even see him, and we ended things on a horrible note last time we saw each other.” 

Cirene sips at her drink. Thinking. 

A long moment passes before she seems to come to an agreement, and says, “Would you summon Gloriana for me, please?” 

Callie frowns. “You want me to leave?”

“I want to help you.” 

Callie waits for the noblewoman to explain, but she doesn’t. She calls for Gloriana, and after a few moments, the paladin is marching through the garden to join them, saluting as she arrives on the steps of the shaded veranda, her armor clanking pleasantly as she does. 

“Hal Devotia,” the paladin greets. 

“Paladin,” Cirene chirps up, “would you request one of my attendants in the house to summon the Knight-Commander for me?”

“Unfortunately, Lady Cirene, hal Devotia is under strict probation,” Gloriana replies, nearly apologetic in her tone.

“Technically, I believe she is allotted unsupervised time with myself,” Cirene attempts, “but that does not need to negate supervised time with others. With you and I present, what is the harm in them being in the same area?” 

“I am unsure if-,”

“Gloriana, you know Callie deserves better than this.”

The paladin pauses. Her face seems torn between duty and speaking her mind. “I have orders,” she says softly, mournful of the fact.

Callie speaks, trying to gain more and more of her sympathy. “I would appreciate simply getting to tell him I am well.” 

“Besides,” Cirene says insistently, “the Knight-Commander is courting me anyways. It isn’t as though anything could happen between Callie and him anymore.” 

Callie shoots a look at Cirene, trying to read if she is lying or not. To her credit, Cirene’s face is impenetrable to observation, remaining steadfast in her conviction to her statement. 

Gloriana shuffles in place. “I… I wasn’t aware of the news, my Lady.” 

Cirene waves a hand, as though dismissing her lack of knowledge. “We’ve only just begun to inform close friends. It’s actually why I’m glad to see Callie today, I needed to share the news with her.” An expertly timed pause. “You know they have history, Gloriana, but they were never allowed any sort of resolution to it. Allow them this one tiny kindness.” 

“Please, Gloriana,” Callie adds, trying to seem much like a wounded animal. 

The paladin considers it for a long breath. “Very well,” she sighs. “But I would have to report it to Magister Velena.” 

“Do you?” Cirene tilts her head to the side, entering the dangerous space of negotiating the bounds of the paladin’s duties. “You’ve seen the good Callie has done as Devotia, know how much she’s given up for the sake of the city. Doesn’t she deserve this small comfort of privacy?” 

Gloriana looks at Callie, pursing her lips. She shifts in place, torn between her sense of strict adherence to duty and her loyalty to the Devotia. Callie had known her to wrestle with the weight of decisions like this - she knows the paladin takes her duties seriously.

The paladin salutes. “At once, hal Devotia,” she says, not quite meeting her eyes. She turns and quickly departs. 

Callie whips her head over to the noblewoman beside her. “Courting?”

Cirene snorts, picking up her wine glass once more. “We can share,” she jokes. “It’s an effective cover story. It gives him reason to just happen to be here when you are visiting.” 

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll love this.” 

 

– – – 

To Callie’s surprise, when Gloriana brings the Knight-Commander out to their veranda, she quickly turns away and departs, leaving the three of them alone. She makes a note of that decision, curious by its merciful favor, and resolves to figure out more about it later.

Calvin sees Cirene first. “Lady Cirene, how unexpected to receive your summons. Is something the matt-,” and then his eyes land on Callie. “Ahem.” 

“Calvin…” she says helplessly, caught in the feeling of living that comes from being in his gaze. 

“Hal Devotia,” he shifts awkwardly. “It’s… you look well.” 

“She isn’t,” Cirene mutters. 

“Cirene!” Callie complains. 

The Knight-Commander frowns, worry seeping into his brow as his eyes race over Callie, trying to read her, trying to pick apart where she might be hurting. “What’s wrong?” 

“I… it’s difficult to…” Callie can’t find the words, and she looks pitifully over at Cirene. 

The noblewoman smirks. “Oh, shall I speak now?” 

“Please.” 

She rolls her eyes and looks up at Calvin. “Callie misses you, but she’s been forced into a ridiculous probation and has been barred from seeing you. Even to visit me she requires a paladin escort.” 

“I hate how we left things the other night,” Callie adds weakly. 

Calvin steps forward, his head on a swivel as he surveys the surrounding area. With the tone of someone actively on a mission, he whispers, “Is it wise for me to be here?” 

Callie feels her insides deflate. 

“Is that all you care about?” Cirene scolds. 

The Knight-Commander looks taken aback. He stammers, “I… it’s…” 

“You love her, don’t you?” She insists, at Callie’s defense. 

Calvin holds his tongue, looking down as though he ought not to say the thing he wishes to say. Callie watches each emotion cross through his eyes, his brow, his lips, aching to be in his arms and be told everything would be alright. 

“Lady Cirene,” he says at last, “might I have a word with Hal Devotia, alone?” 

Callie frowns, sighing, “Gloriana wouldn’t allow it.” 

At that, Cirene snorts. “He’s Knight-Commander. She is supposed to take his orders, he could dismiss her.” 

“She’s under Magister Velena now,” Callie rebuts. Then, with a small voice, utters, “He wouldn’t do it, anyway.” 

“I could step away and cover my ears?” 

Calvin releases a mildly exasperated noise. “I can simply cast a noise ward.” 

“Right, magic,” Cirene pips. She rises, crossing to the far end of the veranda and occupying herself with a study of the azalea blooms nearby. Calvin waves a hand, and Callie feels the familiar change in air pressure of a ward fitting into place around her. Calvin kneels in front of her. 

She smiles at him, weakly. “Have they told you what happened to me?” 

“Only that you’re on a break from public life,” he shakes his head. His brow lowers, full of concern, and it moves her to see his worry. “What’s happened? Are you alright?” 

The distance between them is so surpassable now. Just a few feet forward and she would be in his arms, inhaling his scent. Closer, something inside her pleads.

She looks away. “I’m not sure anymore, Calvin.” She fidgets with her wine glass in her hand, now empty, running her finger along the rim in circles. “The night I left your apartment, I intended to resign. I, it was probably - it…” She sighs. “I didn’t return to the villa. I was just going to run away again.” 

He looks concerned, his jaw clenching, his shoulders tensing. “I hate to think I helped cause-,”

“It’s alright,” she forgives. She feels like she could forgive anything if only to have him once more. She purses her lips, wondering if he would believe her next part of the story. “I… a miracle occurred.” 

His head tilts. “Miracle?” 

“Yala appeared to me.” 

“That’s… wow,” his eyes widen. He sits back on his haunches, surprised. “What did she say?” 

She takes a sharp breath. “I’m her Devotia now.” Calvin’s jaw hangs open, and she feels sympathy for his confusion, having lived it herself. “June didn’t believe me either, but I could perform new magic and everything.”

“...could?” 

“Probation.” 

“I see. So… have they…” She sees his eyes flick down to the folds of her skirt, and she feels a bristling embarrassment and wounded pride bounce through her. She nods. “I’ve heard of that happening to Devotia before. Usually before an excommuni-,” he stops himself. “I’m sure you won’t be-,”
She interrupts him, unable to handle the stress of the possibility. “Velena won’t let me see anyone other than herself, the Magewitch, and a pre-approved list. She resoundingly forbade me from adding you to it.” 

He glances at Cirene. “Hence the… I see.” 

“Calvin, I hate that…” She trails off. A prickle of frustration wins out over her self-pity. “I wish you would have just let me stay with you that night. A least for a little while.”

“I never want to be the source of trouble for you.” 

“I wish you would,” she pouts, tucking her knees in towards her chest. She takes a long breath, dreading the possibility he might reject her next plan entirely. “Cirene and I have an idea…” 

His brow folds into a line. “Is it related to the news she believes I’m courting her?”

“You said you wouldn’t be willing to stay the night with me,” she says slowly. “Would you be willing to spend it with her?” 

 

– – – 

 

Being poked and prodded by Dynasa, with her assemblages of magical devices, is the only time that Callie is freed from the constraints of the cage. As humiliating as it feels to be studied like she was simply a test subject, she relishes the few moments of freedom it entails. 

“So,” the Magewitch continues her inquisition, “at the exact moment the Solvavi arcana collapses, and you begin drawing power from the Yalani source, what do you feel?”

“It’s colder,” she says, struggling to find words for something nearly impossible to describe. “But it’s more… there’s more depth to it. Where the Solvavi arcana feels like it's bursting out of me, the Yalani source is more like a gentle pull.” 

“Demonstrate again.” 

Callie activates a simple ward in front of her, showing off the floating, shimmering glass that is as foundational to this magic as threads are to Suul’s. 

Dynasa nods, scholarly, to permit her to end it. “And this pull is strongest during the night?” 

“It’s still strong during the day.” 

She scribbles a long set of scratches into her notebook, the sound of her quill pricking out around the room. “And when you say she speaks to you, what is it like?” 

“It isn’t a voice, but there’s little nudges here-and-there, guiding me to notice things, even in myself.” 

The Magewitch frowns cautiously. “Is it creating feelings within you?” 

“No,” she shakes her head. “It just points to ones that are already there.” 

“Good.” She updates her notes. “Just a few more tests.” 

After an hour's worth of work, Callie is tired, but not ready to give up the freedom of being out of the cage. Dynasa’s experiments end, and she mercifully allows Callie to remain and share a cup of tea before she’s forced back into it. 

“Mykah has been a superb student,” Dynasa tells her. “Talent like his is rare. He’s surely going to be in the top five of his class. Might even be a Magister someday.” 

Callie laughs. “He’d never challenge for a seat.” 

“He’d be great regardless,” she shrugs. 

Sipping on her tea, Callie allows her mind to wander back towards the side of itself she’s been allowing to plot. Ever since Yala changed everything, she’s had this building sense of her need to protect herself, to have contingencies in place to have power over her life. 

Forcing her voice to remain polite and calm, she says, “I have a question.” Dynasa gestures for her to continue. “Why did your uncle vote to remove Ellava?”

The Magewitch grins. “That’s a dangerous line of thinking, Callie. I’m impressed.”

“Xamner could have nullified her excommunication. You were working alongside her to change things. He could have kept her in place.” 

Dynasa shakes her head. “And cause a crisis of legitimacy in the Devotia?” She sits forward, narrowing her gaze. “You are planning something.”

Callie ponders what level of honesty she was willing to provide, and elects to be honest. Dynasa has been an ally thus far, it would be good to do her the courtesy of directness. “I’m just ready to be a Devotia and a person. I don’t want to wait any more.” 

“And what exactly are you preparing to do?” 

“Nothing dramatic yet,” she sips her tea.

“But you are planning something,” Dynasa frowns. “Tell me.” 

“You’ll tell Velena,” Callie says. She isn’t worried about it, necessarily. Dynasa likely wouldn’t, but she figures it’s best to demonstrate to the Magewitch that she is still being cautious and perceptive. 

“Will I have a reason to?” Dynasa leans forward. “Callie, we are in a precarious place at the moment. I need to know you won’t compromise us.” 

“Or you’ll dispose of me?” Callie lets herself make a proud noise, almost a laugh. “You can’t, and you know it. Yala’s intervention makes me irreplaceable.”

“Callie…” 

“You helped train me to think this way. Is it really your right to be upset that I use it?” 

Dynasa places her cup down and considers Callie. Her piercing eyes scour over her, as though scanning for weaknesses. “To what end?” She asks carefully, her voice level and measured. 

“The same as yours. I’d simply like to improve my conditions along the way, and I’d like to know that I have your support.” 

“I don’t make deals without knowing the terms.” 

“The same as I’ve always wanted,” she tells Dynasa. “I don’t want to be lonely anymore.” 

“So you intend to pursue a relationship,” the Magwitch sighs. “Calvin?” 

“I have a cover story,” Callie affirms. “I can’t give out blessings. The risk is low. All I ask is that if anything gets out in the near future, Xamner has my back.” 

Dynasa is quiet. When she speaks, her voice is quiet and inquisitive. “And what do I get in return?” 

“The same as before,” she smiles innocently. “A compliant Devotia.” 

“And if I refuse?” 

Callie leans forward, flicking her fingers against the cage, sitting on the desk beside her. “A non-compliant Devotia.” 

 

– – – 

 

Callie has a bounce in her step as she approaches Cirene’s villa. The evening arrives timidly, still holding on to the last throes of sunset, and she enjoys the pink and orange bands of light puffing up against the lazy summer clouds vaulted high above.

“Once again,” she says happily, “I can’t thank you enough, Gloriana.” 

The paladin holds up a hand, stopping at the threshold of the door. “Please, say no more. I’d rather not think about it or else I might change my mind.” 

Callie nods, stepping through the doorway, then turns to see the paladin holding fast to her spot. “You can come inside.” 

Gloriana releases a long breath. “I’d rather maintain plausible deniability that it is just Lady Cirene inside.” 

Smiling, Callie accepts this. She hops back towards Gloriana. “Well, I thank you nonetheless, brave paladin.” She plants a kiss on her cheek, and as she pulls away she notices a flush of pink across her face. “Did you just blush?”  

“No!” Gloriana’s face flusters even further. 

Callie bites her lip and places a lingering hand on the woman’s pauldron. “Noted. We’ll have to discuss this later.” 

“As… as you wish, hal Devotia,” Gloriana chokes as Callie slips inside. 

And she skips through the doorway, feeling as though her feet hardly touch the ground. Callie races into the main atrium, bouncing towards Cirene with a giddy smile on her face. 

“Is he…?”

“He’s upstairs,” Cirene confirms. 

He’s here!

She scoops Cirene into a hug, then pulls her face into a sweet kiss. The noblewoman gasps, somewhere between surprised and delighted, and is giggling as Callie sets her down. 

“You’re in a good mood,” she blushes. 

Callie leaves her arms around her neck. “How could I not be?” 

“Well, I’ll leave you to your-,”
She tries to take a step back, but Callie holds her fast in place. “Uh-uh,” she shakes her head, placing her lips on Cirene’s warm cheek. “You’re coming with me.” 

Cirene’s face looks as though it’s been dunked into a freezing lake. “Pardon?” 

Callie bubbles inside. She’d thought of it the moment Cirene invited her over this evening, as a way to show her gratitude for the risk. It… it hadn’t been easy to part with the idea of exclusivity, her years and years of conditioning in Rookwell put up a valiant fight, but she forces herself past it. 

So, she places a hand on Cirene’s jaw, letting her fingers trace the soft lines of her lower face. She drops her voice down suggestively, and speaks slowly, tauntingly, “You’ve made this all possible, dear. Don’t you think you deserve some gratitude?” 

Cirene gulps. Flicks her eyes up nervously towards the stairs. “Are you suggesting what I think you are?” Her voice trembles, and Callie hopes it's with excitement. “Does he know?” 

“Not yet, but he’ll love it.” 

“Are you sure?” 

Callie lets her lips find Cirene’s, tugging on her upper lip teasingly as she pulls back. “You’re cute when you’re nervous.” 

Cirene bites her lip and frantically looks away. 

“Will you come upstairs with me?” 

“O-of course, hal Devotia.” 

“Good girl.” Callie lowers a hand down to the noblewoman’s hip, holding her steady while they climb the staircase up to her bedroom. 

Cirene halts on the top step, a mild panic on her face. “It’s your first time alone with him since - I… I don’t want to get in the way.” 

“Cirene,” she places a cute pout on her face, “are you saying you don’t want to sleep with us?” 

“Us,” the girl repeats. She swallows a flighty breath. “I… It’s… um…” She shuts her eyes for a moment, clenching her fists as she tries to force herself to say the thing she wants to say. “I made you feel jealous last time. I don’t want to come between you.” 

“And what good has my jealousy ever done for me?” Callie shrugs. “It’s time I put it aside.” She takes Cirene’s hand, holding it tenderly. “Do you want this?” 

A pause. She nods. “Are you sure?” 

“Yes.” 

No, a small voice contests inside. She shoves it away, resolved to banish her jealousy from herself once and for all. Calvin is here, and bending the rules to do it, just for her. She ought to face her own discomfort as well.

“So,” she steps into Cirene’s space once again, her feet tapping on the marble stairs below, “will you join us?” 

Cirene’s hasty kiss answers for her. 

They enter the bedroom, a wide and circular room, adorned with gorgeous red-and-white curtains to accent the tan marble. A four poster bed, with matching canopy, rests in command of the room, and on it, the Knight-Commander sits with his head in his hands. He perks up as they enter, shooting to his feet. 

“Hal Devotia,” he bows. “Lady Cirene.” 

“Knight-Commander,” she smiles, inclining her head. Gods, he’s cute in his armor. 

He shifts his weight from one leg to the other, then back again. He raises a hand to scratch the back of his head, and Callie finds his nervousness precious. “So, uh, how does this whole situation work?” 

Callie approaches, holding Cirene’s hand behind her. “We were thinking you could lay back and allow us to remove your armor,” she says innocently. 

A mild sweat breaks out upon his forehead. “Us?”

“Us,” she confirms. 

His eyes widen. “And you… you’re okay with that?” 

Cirene hovers at Callie’s side. “It was her idea.” 

Callie steps closer to him, then closer still, trying to contain the ravenous part of herself. 

Strip. Plead for him.

Her eyes wash over his arms, his chin, his breathtaking eyes. Her body bursts with warmth as she places a hand on his breastplate and steps onto her tip-toes to kiss his cheek. “Consider this my apology, for my behavior that night,” she whispers. 

His brow furrows. Gods, his eyebrows are gorgeous. “You don’t have to apologize. I understand it is a difficult-,”

“Are you saying you don’t desire our attentions?” She brings her mouth to his, letting the shape of her lips complete his. She exhales, pushing herself into him. And as she exits it, she loves the hungry look in his eyes. They flick nervously to Cirene behind her, and Callie beams. “She’s wanted you for years… look how adorable she is.” She drops her voice a little lower. “I… I shouldn’t be so jealous. If I can see other people, you should be able to, too. I want this if you do.” And, a little jokingly, she adds, “Besides, you are technically courting her now.” 

“And you're sure this is alright?” 

The rumble of his voice. The warmth of it on my cheek. 

“Tell her how beautiful she is.” 

Calvin wraps a divinely wonderful arm around her shoulder, and brings his focus to Cirene. She watches him carefully as he forms the words, trying to learn to enjoy how they look on him while directed to someone else. “Lady Cirene,” he breathes out, “you do look radiant.” 

And in his eyes, she sees another hunger, different from the kind he shows her, but present nonetheless. She inhales his scent, so familiar and comforting, and directs, “Tell her how badly you want her.” And a beat later. “Kiss her hand as you do it.” 

He beckons Cirene to approach, and as he offers his hand to her, the noblewoman’s is timidly placed in his palm, fragile, like she was afraid to break. He pulls his head down and allows his lips to meet her skin, and Callie sees Cirene practically shiver at his touch. He lifts back just a few inches, still holding her sweetly, and says, “Lady Cirene, it would be my genuine pleasure to receive your affections.” 

The noblewoman melts. 

“Lady Cirene,” Callie smiles, taking her other hand and guiding it to rest on the Knight-Commander’s pauldrons, “I require assistance with his armor.” 

“O-of course, hal Devotia.” 

And as they begin to work, Callie feels a glimmer of pride meet her own desperation for him. Cirene’s hand trembles as she touches him, her face brightly adorned with a flowery crimson, and inside of herself Callie can think of no greater thing to do than to kiss her. So she does. And the knowledge that Calvin can see her do it, and the feeling of his body pushing forward slightly as she does… she feels herself fight against the cage under the skirt. 

With his gauntlets removed, and his pauldrons, they turn to the scattered array of leg plates, guiding him to sit on the side of the bed while they kneel on the ground before him. She smirks, adoring the hasty breaths Cirene is taking. 

“What do you find most attractive about our Knight-Commander?” She teases. 

Cirene flusters. “I…”

“And not his personality, his body,” she says, causing Cirene to look away, embarrassed. 

It takes the noblewoman a moment to cough out, “His arms.” 

“So strong,” Callie agrees, placing one of her own hands onto Cirene’s arm and squeezing it. “Imagine them pinning you down onto the bed.” 

“Yes, please,” Cirene squeaks breathlessly. Callie kisses her. 

Soon, the only armor remaining is his breastplate, and Callie directs Cirene to sit on the opposite side of Calvin. She kneels between them, holding one hand from either of them, and she threads them together. “Calvin, I believe it is her turn.” 

Calvin raises his other hand to the back of Cirene’s neck, and all air escapes the girl’s lungs as he pulls her into him. Callie sits back, watching as the man she’s been aching for since her first day as Devotia kisses her. Then she watches as the girl she’s grown to adore, and who has loved him from a distance for years, accepts his kiss, freezing in place like her mind couldn’t handle anything else. 

And she feels only her desperate need for them both. 

She gives them a few moments, then imposes herself between them, kissing Calvin first, and Cirene second. Her hand grabs hold of Cirene’s hair, threading her fingers through the golden strands as her other hand wraps around Calvin’s handsome neck. 

She forces herself to pull back, to remain collected, if only to further stoke their desperations as well. She turns to Calvin, biting her lip, and aridly asks, “And what do you find most attractive about our dear Lady Cirene?” 

“Her eyes,” he beams. 

Cirene giggles. “I didn’t get threaded just to be told my eyes are my best feature.” 

His palm rests onto her waist, tugging her closer to him. “Well, I’ve yet to survey the rest of you.” And Callie watches as Cirene nearly dies on the spot. 

Calvin’s gaze flicks over to Callie, as though asking for permission.

“Calvin, if you don’t pin her down and fuck her I’ll do it myself,” she laughs. 

“And you’re sure that’s-,”

“I want you to,” she confirms, bringing her mouth to his once again. And me, too, please. “It would be so unbearably sexy.” 

Pleased, Calvin brings Cirene in for another deep kiss. Callie studies the way his tongue pushes against her cheeks and feels her panties fighting for dear life. She frantically removes his breastplate and casts it aside, hardly caring about the noise of it clanging around the open room. She pushes him down onto the bed and takes her turn with Cirene, bringing her into her chest and loving the scattered way their dresses tangle together, the way their breasts push against one another. 

And Calvin’s hands rub at her hips, her legs, and she may as well lose all of herself to this moment. Cirene’s hands wrap tightly around her back, holding onto Callie like she would drown without her. Callie’s hand grabs at the back of her thigh, lifting Cirene into her lap and loving the feeling of her ass pushing down on her hips. She reaches a hand down and rests it onto the girl’s stiff erection, earning a high whimper from her as she does. 

“Cirene,” she pants, “am I still your only…?” 

It takes a moment for her to catch breath enough to reply, and she answers, a little delightedly scandalized, “I’ve had significantly more offers since the threading… I may have taken a few of them.” 

Callie’s hand on her neck pulls her in to kiss her. “Good girl,” she approves. 

She turns to face Calvin, and warmth rushes to her face to see that his hand is gently rubbing between his hips, gripping the sides of his cock through the fabric. He watches them, enraptured, and she smiles back to Cirene. “I think our Knight-Commander might need some assistance.” 

“Well, it would be rude to let him struggle like that,” Cirene giggles. 

Callie slips out from under Cirene and crawls over to Calvin. “Cirene, dear, would you work him up for me? I need him good and bothered.” 

Giddy, the girl prances towards him, laying beside him and allowing herself to be brought onto his chest and kissed. His arms lift up to grab hold of the cloth of her dress, dragging her deeper into his embrace, while Callie expertly removes his belt and deposits it off of the bed. Her fingertips slip under the waist of his trousers, hidden by his tunic, and she pulls it down enough to let his steady cock whip up. 

She’s nearly drooling as she stares at it, bringing her face down to kiss the tufts of hair at its base, inhaling the scent like it was the finest cologne. Gods,  I needed this. 

Staring at it fills her with ideas, loving how stiff it is from watching the two of them. She borrows Cirene from his lips, guiding her down to lay on the bed between his legs. “I require your help,” she purrs. 

“Gods, yes,” Cirene exhales. 

Cirene brings her mouth to the base of him, while Callie’s tongue meets his tip like an adoring supplicant. She glides across the beautiful skin, brings her lips around to take him into her. Her eyes close as she savors the fullness, and she nearly begins purring as his hand slides through her hair, guiding her movements. 

She lifts off of him, bringing Cirene back up to her mouth to share the taste of his erection between them, and lets Calvin watch their sloppy kiss. Bubbles of ecstasy crash through her hot skin, surviving off the feeling of his lust for them and that feeling alone. His grip pulls her away from the noblewoman, guiding her back down onto him. 

Callie brings his cock deeper and deeper into her mouth, her own clit straining helplessly against its restraint, yearning as she watches Cirene’s lips on his as well. She trades places with her, now turning her attention to the space beneath his shaft and wrapping her fingers around it, stroking him slowly. 

“Gods,” he moans, his fingers digging deeper into her hair. 

And she returns to making out with Cirene, this time lowering the straps of the noblewoman's dress, then her own, to ensure Calvin’s desperation will only grow. Cirene’s mouth is needy and hasty, racing for the feeling of being brought to task, and as Callie pulls away, Cirene’s face is flushed and longing. 

“How do you want him?” Callie asks her, taking hold of her face with her palm. “How have you always pictured it?” And smirking, “I know you have.” 

Cirene’s eyes flick between the two of them, excitedly panicked, and she blurts out, “Hesontopofme.” She sucks in a nervous breath, and with more composure, locks eyes with Callie long enough to say, “He’s on top of me, holding me down with his arms. He… he kisses my neck, and tells me how beautiful I am…” 

“Good girl,” she pets her cheek. “Calvin?” 

He sits up, his own face filled with color. He brushes a strand of hair behind her ear, making her shiver at his touch. “Consider me excited to make that dream a reality.” 

Cirene’s breath catches in her lungs. 

Callie lays back, taking Calvin’s spot as he shifts, and she spreads her legs wide, inviting Cirene in. The noblewoman rests her back against Callie’s breasts, her own legs locked tightly together as she fights her cute erection. Callie’s lips find her neck, brushing her long hair out of the way and fondly remarking how many little purple bruises she left on the girl during their last encounter. 

Calvin sits tall, pulling his arms up to remove his shirt, giving the two of them a glorious view of his muscled chest. She zealously studies every small hair, every defined line of a muscle, and feels her cage strain between her hips. The Knight-Commander crawls forward slowly, his hands resting on either of Cirene’s thighs, and he leans forward to utter, “Have I mentioned how beautiful you look, Cirene?” 

“Not enough,” she croaks. 

“Let me fix that at once,” he smiles, his dimples popping out as he brings his face in to kiss her. Callie rests a hand on Cirene’s shoulders, holding her in place to be helpless at his touch, not that she needed any encouragement. 

He kisses Callie on the way down to Cirene’s neck, and soon the noblewoman is sighing out, “Calvin…” 

His hands gently pry her legs open, causing her to release a nervously excited whimper, and Callie can hardly bear how precious she is. Her hands fondle her breasts, squeezing the soft, pillowy skin as Calvin adjusts into position. A quick spell, and then Callie watches as his cock slowly slides into her, feeling a phantom sensation of him entering herself as he does. Her breath catches ecstatically. 

Calvin’s arms pin Cirene’s down on either side of the pillows beside Callie’s head, and the noblewoman releases a heavenly moan. Her face contorts into a pained look of bliss, her kissable lips hanging open in a perpetual gasp as he begins grinding against her. 

She kisses Cirene’s neck, bringing her fingertips to twists Cirene’s nipples and pull a delicious sound from the girl. Calvin kisses Cirene, then Callie, then Cirene again, their skin hot and sweaty as their bodies all press together. 

“Knight-Commander,” Callie beams, “now that you’ve seen more of her, what do you find most attractive about her?” 

“It’s difficult competition,” he replies, his voice strained as he holds back his own desperate noises enough to talk. Those gorgeous smile lines on his face beam back at her, then look over Cirene as he adds, “her breasts… her hips… her stunning legs…” He moans, pushing deeper into her and causing Cirene to squirm underneath him, panting with conviction. “But, despite how breathtaking… all of her… her form is, I… ah… I still find myself most drawn to her beautiful face.” 

“It’s my favorite part of her as well,” Callie agrees, and, to prove her point, kisses Cirene passionately. “Just wait until she’s begging to finish,” she says gleefully. Cirene moans louder, her breath racing with each moment, and Callie guides, “Deep breaths, Cirene. Savor it.” 

“...y-yes, ma’am!” The girl cries out. Callie pinches her nipples once more to make it even harder for her. 

“And keep your eyes open,” Calvin coaches, “I love the desperate look in them.” 

Cirene’s face contorts with bliss as she does, her brow frowning as she fights the overwhelming feeling. “Yes, s-sir!” 

“Beautiful,” Calvin beams, kissing her. “Absolutely beautiful.” 

Callie brings her hand down to pull up Cirene’s skirt, wrapping her fingers around the girl’s stiff clit. “The poor girl is dripping wet. You must be doing quite the job, Calvin,” Callie glimmers. She runs her thumb across the tip, lubricating her palm with her juices and bringing it down to stroke her. Cirene’s eyes shut tightly for a moment before she peels them back open, fighting to obey their directions as the feeling consumes her. “How good is he?” 

“Very!” She squeals. 

Callie brings her free hand to Cirene’s chin, tilting it up to lock eyes with Calvin, his own face grimacing with need. “Do you see that hunger in his eyes? Do you know what that face means?” Cirene bobs her head frantically in Callie’s hand. “It means you feel incredible,” she whispers, directly outside of her ear. “It means you’re driving him wild. You’re going to make him fill you up and have nothing left.” And, for good measure, she mutters into the other ear, “Good… girl…” 

Cirene’s body shudders between them, as Callie’s hand stroking her, and Calvin’s cock inside of her, overpower all of her remaining defenses. Her body clenches up as she cries out, and if it was not for Calvin’s hands holding her down Callie is sure she’d launch right up. Callie’s grip grows warm and sticky from her cum as Cirene shivers, panting like all the air had left her. Her chest heaves, and she makes beautiful, pitiful noises as Calvin continues pounding against her. 

“Don’t give up yet,” Callie encourages her, holding her palm in place so she doesn’t overwhelm her. “He isn’t finished with you.” 

Cirene nods frantically as Calvin speeds up, and it doesn’t take long for him to cry out as well, burying himself deep inside of her as his hips rock. He groans happily, and Callie watches the two of them collapse into one another, a booming delight in her chest. 

She slides her wet hand up Cirene’s abdomen, bringing the taste of it to her lips and adoring the salty gift. She kisses Calvin with it in her mouth, then pulls away and gives Cirene a taste as well. And then she laps up the rest of it from her palm as Calvin watches her - gazes upon her like there was nothing more he wanted to do than to make her cry out, too. 

Gods, yes. 

Her own hips fight against the cage, straining at the confinement, and she relents in her desperation, guiding it towards a contented satisfaction at the two bodies before her instead. 

“Do you require my attention as well, hal Devotia?” 

“And mine?” Cirene perks up. 

Callie shakes her head. “Maybe later tonight.” And, a little sour, adds, “Not that I think it’ll have much success.” 

“I’m eager to try,” Calvin grins. 

“I’ll let you give it your best effort.” She pets a hand through Cirene’s hair, kissing the top of her head. “Was that everything you hoped it would be, my dear?” 

Cirene’s eyes are sealed shut as she exhales, “Gods, yes. Calvin… you’re… wow.” She looks as though she’s still riding a few residual waves of bliss. 

“So are you,” he kisses her. Calvin’s eyes flick back up to Callie. “The face she makes when she’s nearly there - it’s remarkably similar to the one you make.” 

Callie snorts. “That has to be a joke.” 

“I’m serious,” he chuckles. “It’s cute.” He kisses Callie, then brings his lips back down to Cirene once more. 

As he pulls away, Cirene wraps her arms around him and pulls him into her embrace, then she nestles up more comfortably into Callie, settling into a sweet cuddle. He adjusts to find a good spot, and soon the three of them are tucked away into her sheets, enjoying the warmth of being together. 

“So…” Cirene says after a bit. “Is this a one-time thing or…?” 

“That’s up to him,” Callie replies. I’m game. 

He leans over her, tracing the lines of Cirene’s face with his fingers. “I’d be very excited to do that again. The two of you together…” He makes a soft noise of approval. Cirene leaps up to kiss him, kicking her legs with a giddy excitement. 

And then she turns back to bring her mouth to Callie. She holds it there, until she pulls back and sighs, “Callie, you always know how to make my night. And week. And life, really.” With a final peck on her cheek, the noblewoman slowly begins to extricate herself from the covers. 

“Leaving so soon?” 

“I need a bath,” she says at the side of the bed. “And I’d like to give the two of you some time together.” She blows an air kiss to them both, and says, “Summon me anytime. Truly. It literally does not matter what I am doing. Anytime.” 

And then she slips out of the room, allowing the two of them to settle into the sweet, forbidden delight of laying under the covers while the night has arrived around them. Callie allows him to scoop her up into his embrace, and she rests her head affectionately onto his chest. “You really enjoyed that,” she says. 

“How could I not? You were there,” he squeezes her. “And Cirene seems wonderful.” 

“She is.” 

After a few soft minutes more, his index finger is carefully tilting her chin up to face him. His brows furrow seriously, and he looks at her with a gentle reverence. “You know I’m content if it’s just you, right? This was fun and exciting, but all I need is you.” 

Her fingertips pull against his skin as she closes her eyes and savors those words. “Thank you,” she breathes out, quietly, and a little frightened of what he might’ve said. She’d made a big leap through her jealousy, and she’s grateful not to feel it consuming her now. “If you did want to see her alone sometime, I’d… I’d be okay with that.” 

“Maybe someday,” he shrugs, a little disinterested. “For now, I’m more interested in taking advantage of this time we have together.”

“Like I said, with the cage, I’m not even sure it’ll even-,”

“I meant just getting to talk,” he squeezes her sweetly. “Be around one another. It’s been ages since we’ve been able to just sit and talk.” 

“Oh. good.” 

He grins at her, resting his arm around her back and shifting so they can see each other’s faces better. “How are you? I mean, despite it all.” 

She holds her words in her throat, considering them. “I’m adjusting, I think.” A little pang of nerves sets off in her stomach, a residual wave of fear crashing in. “Was this a mistake?” 

He frowns. “In what way?” 

“The sun has set and here you are. I shouldn’t have asked you to-,”

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be,” he assures her. Stops. Ponders for a moment. “I regret that I sent you away that night. I keep thinking about it, over and over, kicking myself for being so burdened by my worries. I hate that I hurt you so deeply.” 

“I just…” Do I be honest? She sighs. Yeah, you should. “I know it’s a risk to be with me, and I’m asking so much of you to do it… I… sometimes I worry that you don’t think I’m worth it.” 

She cowers back, as though she’d said something too horrible to utter aloud. 

He pursues her, sitting up and pulling her face closer, holding it sweetly as his thumb caresses her cheek. “You are worth it. Honestly? It’s me I’m more concerned about.” 

“You don’t think you’re worth it?” 

“Absolutely not,” he says without hesitation. “I’d have to be a narcissist to think I’m entitled to this much of a Devotia’s attention.” 

“But you do deserve it,” she looks at him fondly. Sweetly. “Do I not tell you that enough?” 

“You’ve been nothing but good to me-,”

She sits up higher, overcome with a sensation of insufficiency. I haven’t told him that enough. I haven’t made him abundantly aware of how desperately I need him, how much longing there is in me for him. For him, not just for the sex. 

So, she straddles his chest, holding his face in both of her hands and gazing into his eyes with as much sincerity as she can muster. “I love you, Calvin,” she says ardently. Confidently. A little tenderfully pitiful. “You’re so absurdly worth it to me. I was ready to give up being a Devotia just because I thought you were so worth it.” 

And to her great amusement, he blushes. “You ought not to give it up for me. You like being-,”

She kisses him, hovers in his breath. “Calvin, if all I had was you, it would be enough for me.” 

“You’re really too kind,” he flusters, “but I-,”

And she giggles delightfully. “You’re so bashful.” She pulls his hands away from his face, ensuring he could not escape from her affection. Sure, he was far stronger than her, and could easily resist, but it’s fun to toy with him. “Do you never get compliments like this?” 

He purses his lips, a little out of his element. 

“Gods, you’re precious,” she beams, resolving to march right ahead with a barrage of sweet adorations. “Calvin, not only are you a man so beautiful I can’t bear to be in a room and not want to touch you, but you are sweet, and gentle, and supportive, and make me feel like I need to bury my face in your chest and never leave. I want to give you everything and anything you want.” She embraces him, holding him as tightly as his muscles will allow. “And as much as I love your body - and I love your body - all I want is to just sit and talk with you for hours and hours.” 

He clears his throat, adjusting to the weight of her compliments. “Thank you. That was very… thank you.” And, a little hastily, he adds, “I really admire you’re-,”

“Uh-uh,” she silences him with a kiss. “You don’t need to compliment me, handsome. I just want you to sit and feel how much I love and appreciate you.” 

“Torturous,” he accuses. 

She flips around, resting her ass against his hips and rubbing it into him enough to feel a response. “I promise to soften the blow,” she teases. “Now, let’s talk about how cute your dimples are.” 

 

– – – 

 

As much as she had wanted to stay in Cirene’s bed all night and cuddle with Calvin until dawn, Callie musters up her mercy for Gloriana’s orders and allows the Paladin to escort her back to the villa. Unwilling to sleep alone, she finds herself in the comfortable rest of Junivere’s bed instead, cuddled up deep into her chest and savoring her perfect softness. 

She has a dream she can’t remember upon waking. 

Feels consumed by a drive for action. 

Has a plan assembling in the back of her mind. 

And she hears a whisper of a voice in the air around her, audible to her and her alone. 

“I desire for my Devotia to be free.” 

And who was Callie to deny the will of her goddess?