Epilogue

Three months later. 

“You’re fussing,” Callie complains, though she doesn’t really mean it. 

Mirabelle rolls her eyes. “Am not.” 

Callie gently redirects the woman’s attention to the endless assortment of shimmering bands to be braided into her hair. She’d hardly need more than five or so, yet Mira had acquired a few dozen. She’d spent the last quarter hour frantically braiding and unbraiding new ones into Callie’s hair, never content enough in their appearance. 

So Callie chucks her chin and tips her head up. Mira’s focus suddenly aligns, and her pupils dilate adorably, her form suddenly frozen into rapt attention. Callie giggles and brings the woman to her lips, soft and friendly, then returns her to her prior position. 

“Better?” 

Mira coughs and nods happily. Pursing her lips, she turns away and admits, “Maybe I am fussing.” 

“It’s only because you care-,”

A knock at the door, and then Lady Cirene is slipping into the room. As has become her usual on formal occasions, she wears a flowing, cascading gown of amber and gold, shining like a sunset. 

“Is she ready?” 

Mira attempts to hold back her fretting. “I suppose.” 

Callie stands, her most formal Devotia dress folding out from her stool as she does. With a peck on Cirene’s blushing cheek, she says, “I am - Mira’s just a perfectionist. Is everyone else already-,”

“Waiting on you, hal Devotia.” 

So, she wraps Cirene into a warm embrace, arms scooping underneath the shorter woman’s and bringing her in as close as she can. A part of her is nervous, though she quickly is able to stifle it. Today is a good day, she decides. 

Cirene walks out arm-in-arm with her, with Mira shadowing a few steps behind. It’s a cool day, all things considered, slowly wrapping towards autumn. Callie is beginning to accept that Solva doesn’t quite have the seasons Rookwell had, and that this would be okay with her. Summers might be scorching, but the rest of the year is still green and pleasant. 

It’s a short walk from the small cottage to the venue by the river. She’s careful as she takes the cobblestone steps placed into the grassy banks, hopping along with a lightness in her step. The newer dress she wears is slightly difficult to move this way in, it’s long skirt snapping in the air as she moves along. She’ll request help with having it hemmed some other day - for now she simply enjoys the silver braided into it, glistening white and platinum to designate her as Yala’s chosen. 

Cirene tosses Callie a quick smirk as they strut along. “You still promise to share?” 

“Dear, could you imagine me not?” 

And the noblewoman snorts out a delighted laugh. Her slender arm tucks a little tighter around Callie’s. “I suppose monogamy now feels like the most unexpected thing you could do.” 

Callie laughs with her, light and billowing. There’s such a sense of possibility in her chest these days, gentle like a cool breeze. Everything inside of her feels absent of burden. 

On a steady, flat plain across the bank of the river, shaded by tall trees with wide, lazy branches, a small assembly has gathered. From a distance, Callie fondly adores the presence of everyone she loves so dearly, all brought together in one place. 

Mykah and Rian, arm and arm and laughing together. 

Civa, Salome, and Willow, the last of which she notices cozying up to Gloriana with a blush across her cheeks. 

Magister Hamada, seeming surprised, if anything, to have been invited. Alongside her she’s brought Baris, perhaps so she’d have someone to speak to. 

Danzen, a lovely artist Callie has found herself frequenting lately - first in appreciation for his work, and then for growing to enjoy quite a bit more. He’s brought both of his partners: Gemma, who Callie had met a few times, and Hamark, a new face. 

And at the head of the group, standing beside a small altar of marble and gold, the two she loves most. 

Junivere, adorned in a similar dress to Callie’s, with golden accents running along her waist and arms. She watches the river, her face decorated with a contented glow. 

And Calvin. 

Callie can feel her heart sigh at the sight of him. It’s rare to see him outside of his usual armor, dressed instead in a form-fitting robe of gentle gold. In his curly, brown hair sits a shining laurel, and jeweled bands decorate his wrists. Unlike Junivere, his attention watches Callie’s whole descent from the cottage above, rapt and smiling. 

How her heart settles upon seeing the two of them. Junivere, who she almost made the terrible mistake of hating. Calvin, who she’d been willing to risk everything for. Everything is worth having - but only if she could have them both. 

She joins them at the altar, familiar in this arena in a new way. At Junivere’s suggestion, the two Devotia were now present at a great many weddings in Solva - what better way to celebrate love than the blessings of a Goddess? 

Callie hadn’t expected that she would be standing to be married herself. 

Junivere laughed when Callie asked her, which was to be expected. She no longer believed in marriage for herself - once was more than enough, she’d insist. And their relationship as Devotia together was bond enough, which Callie could be content with. 

But Calvin. 

He shuffles in place as both of her palms find his, outstretched over the peaceable altar. His fingers curl against her hands, tugging them with a kind insistence - begging her closer, as always. 

Callie has to close her eyes at the feeling, lest she begin to cry. 

She hadn’t expected Calvin to ask her to marry him, though she could hardly deny how much she wanted it. She feels so child-like in her glee at the idea, at the possibility of their love being anointed and consecrated. His, for as long as she may have him. 

Junivere easily offered to officiate. 

“I love you,” he whispers to her. “And you look radiant.”

“I know,” she smirks. “And I love you.” 

“Cute,” Junivere purrs, her own hands placed down onto the pedestal before her, encroaching into their space with a glorious light in her eyes. “Both of you - adorable, truly.” 

Callie kisses her quickly, delighted by the familiarity of her lips and breath. And then she leaves Calvin’s hands to embrace Junivere. The folds of her dress, the shape of her body, the feeling of her hair on Callie’s cheek - so wonderful and comforting. Callie could hold her forever. 

Junivere giggles. “Enough. You’ve a husband to marry, dear.” 

A peck on her cheek, gently shooed away by Junivere, and Callie is once more holding Calvin, staring up into his kind eyes and drowning in the adoration beaming from them. 

Callie hardly listens as Junivere recites the ceremony. She’s been at enough of them these last months that she’s had it easily memorized. Instead, she is swept away by her love for Calvin, her love for all those watching them, and her love for the city - its familiar walls peeking just so over the hilltops nearby. 

Home. 

She looks out over the crowd, beams at Mykah. 

Home. 

Junivere blesses them both, tying a threadbeam around their entwined wrists and declaring their love for one another. 

And Calvin pulls her into a kiss like magic. The soft embrace of his lips. The warm strength of his arms. The steady comfort of his chest. 

“I love you,” she whispers into his ear. 

“And I love you,” his voice tickles back. 

Callie finds herself giggling incessantly, giddy, light, and full of everything she could have ever wanted for her life. And somewhere, deep within that stubborn, courageous, fierce heart of hers, it’s as though some pain disappears forever. 

Callie is gloriously happy - and more, perhaps believes truly that she deserves it, for the first time. 

And she couldn’t possibly imagine running from this feeling, ever. 

Ms.Appropriately

And there it is - the end of Devotia!

This is a work which I adore deeply - first because it was the true beginning of my smut-writing hobby, and second because it then evolved into a spiraling fantasy world I think about constantly. I love this world, and I don't think this'll be the last shameless adventure we'll have in this setting. (I'm even about to begin a D&D campaign set in this world the night that the final chapter drops, which feels fitting).

There are so many places future installments might go. From one-off fun stories following up with main characters from this story to a sprawling trilogy with a world-ending plot a few hundred years later that I have scattered notes for, there's a ton of potential. We'll see what happens - I love to follow where inspiration takes me, and she's a fickle fellow. 

So, thank you so much for all your love and support for my work, and I look forward to many more pages of glittering romance, naughty fun, and existential ruminations on magic and morality. I do have a Patreon, should you feel motivated to donate to my hobby, but for now this remains a hobby and I'll be writing either way. 

Much love and appreciation,

Ms.Appropriately <3