Chapter 10: Habit

Habit 

 

Callie spends the entirety of the concert ignoring her guest in the booth beside her. Instead, her eyes flick across the music hall, ornate and spectacular, trying to see if Calvin had made it after all. 

 

The choir’s voice bellows across the stone hall which has been carved out of a cavern underneath the city and decorated to a degree Callie could hardly believe was possible. Huge spiraling grooves have been cut out of the walls, bouncing the sound around the arena and making space for viewing boxes to attach to the cavernous stone faces. On the concert floor a stage faces out across a large, flat area where most of the guests sit; as Devotia, Callie was included in the special groups who would have a privileged place to watch from. 

 

The voices sing in such a way that the music bounces and flows through the cave, sometimes rushing like a wave against rocks and other times soothing like a gentle river’s current. For the slower pieces, usually derived from a story of Suul’s lover, the goddess Yamm, it was easy to be lured into a trance-like sense of rapture. 

 

Callie’s guest, on the other hand, seems immune to the trance, constantly chattering on about whatever vague details he finds interesting. After a seven-minute aside about the particular reinvention of the hollow string spells needed to support the roof of the cave, Callie completely tunes him out, only occasionally nodding in affirmation. 

 

Callie’s eyes continue flicking through the crowd, searching for the expected glint of armor that might peak out from Calvin’s robes. While he could easily have been assigned to one of the private boxes, Callie knew he hated the schmoozing that came with it, and would prefer to sit amongst the common citizens who he felt closer to. After a few failed minutes of letting her eyes search aimlessly, Callie stifles a sigh and focuses her gaze row by row, meticulously hunting for him. 

 

“Ah, you’ll love this next piece, hal Devotia,” Frinniel leans in excitedly, “I’ve heard the Madrigals rehearsed it from Sunrise to Sunset for weeks simply to get the overtones locked in.” 

 

“They sound lovely,” Callie replies vacantly. 

 

“It’s the Mirage of Kelinor Sunshade, though I do believe the Lord Madrigal has rearranged its ending to savor its impact,” he continues, shifting his weight on the luxurious sette next to her. “Have you ever heard the original? If not, I must arrange for an encore for you sometime.” 

 

“I have not, Lord Artificer.” 

 

Stifling the urge to roll her eyes, Callie resumes her scan of the audience, slowly making her way past the first rows without success. She pushes away the fear that Calvin isn’t wearing his armor at all, doubting she could see him from this high above without it. 

 

“Well you simply must,” Frinniel confirms. 

 

The next song begins, though Callie hardly pays it much notice. To her ears, it’s hardly distinguishable from anything she’s heard so far, and while it's beautiful and balanced, she doesn’t feel that it warrants much focus. 

 

What if he couldn’t make it after all? She dreads as her search continues fruitlessly. He did warn that the Paladins might receive new orders this week. 

 

Callie sighs quietly. Calvin was out visiting Havel last week, and hasn’t been attending any of the same events as her since two weeks before that. It feels like ages since she’s been able to summon him, much less talk with him. Calvin had been so hopeful he could make it today… 

 

“Oh, do be sure to notice the parallel eighths here, hal Devotia!” Frinniel whispers excitedly. A few seconds of music continue, which don’t stand out to Callie much, and he closes his eyes contentedly before looking at her and saying, “Exquisite, don’t you think?” 

 

“Positively radiant,” Callie nods politely. 

 

Callie wonders also where Junivere might be. She knows that her fellow Devotia is probably here as well, likely entertaining a gaggle of devoted supplicants, but she doesn’t spot her in any of the boxes. They’d grown so close over the last month and a half, and Callie is only recently ready to begin acting as Devotia without Junivere’s support at her side. Normally, Junivere is around to exchange knowing glances, amused glares, and even to occasionally sneak away for a few precious moments when the people around them are too much. 

 

‘Well now, hal Devotia,” Frinniel takes a satisfied breath as the song concludes, “I thank you for your patience. Might I turn now to the matter of business I’ve come to ask of?” 

 

She turns to look back at him, legs tucked up on the sofa to create a little distance between them during the concert. “Of course, Lord Artificer. It has to do with the monastic reconstruction, correct?” She steadies herself slightly, letting her focus return to her duties. 

 

“Indeed, hal Devotia,” he smiles. “How astute your memory is.” 

 

Callie’s eyes take him in more thoughtfully for a moment. With every devoted platitude he offers, she comes closer to the conclusion that he would be more attractive if he spoke less. He’s relatively well-built, has an established and noble taste in fashion, and a pleasant smile, but it too often feels obscured by pretense. She wishes he would simply speak his mind instead of dancing through niceties; the confidence would suit him.

 

“The Mount Beacon Monastery, as your keen memory must recall, was damaged in last winter’s avalanche,” he continues. “I have been traveling frequently with my team to assist the monks in repairs, but it has been surprisingly laborious.” 

 

“How so?” Callie says, pushing away her annoyance as best as possible. With a few stealthy deep breaths, and the soft sound of the choir resuming below, she’s able to refocus a bit. She turns to face him more clearly, scooting forward and placing a more interesting smile upon her face. 

 

Frinniel shifts again, resting his arm on the back of the sette and leaning in. “While it isn’t overly far, it can take a great deal of power to lift the components back into place. Our mages are quite exhausted from the task of repairing threadstone.” 

 

“I imagine so,” Callie nods. She moves her legs slightly, letting a little more skin show underneath and hiding her smirk as Frinniel’s eyes flick immediately towards them. 

 

“With more strength,” his eyes drop again quickly before hastily returning to her gaze, “we might be able to complete the task before the first snow in the fall. The monks would be very appreciative…” 

 

“Indeed?” Callie lets her voice rise innocently. “Well we must ensure that is so.” 

 

“As your wisdom decrees, hal Devotia.” 

 

“I am quite sure Suul smiles on these efforts,” Callie’s tone lowers, a little more suggestive. She moves closer, ensuring he notices her eyes take a long look at his lap as he does, and she revels in the anticipatory shift he makes in his seat. His face flushes ever so slightly. “You must be so in need to come all this way for my help. So dedicated.” 

 

“You honor me, hal Devotia.” 

 

“Is there something you would like to ask of me, Lord Artificer?” Callie lets her leg lightly touch his, wondering if she’s laying it on a little too thick. But, as his skin turns bright pink and she notices a rebellion against the belt to his trousers, she figures it must be working. 

 

“A-a blessing, hal Devotia.” 

 

“I would be happy to provide one,” she nods, letting her dress reveal a little bit more of her meager cleavage. She loves the feeling of Frinniel scrambling to keep focused as she moves in closer. “What have you heard about me, Frinniel?” 

 

“Ahem,” he clears his throat and looks away, a bit bashful. “That you’re… I’m not sure what the appropriate word is, hal Devotia.”

 

“Then tell me anyway,” she places a hand on his knee, pulling his gaze back to her. Junivere had given Callie so much advice on how to make people desperate for her, and she thoroughly enjoys all of the different reactions. Some were forward and eager, but others like Frinniel were more sheepish, and she finds it delightful to toy with them. 

 

“I’m not sure that I should repeat-,”

 

“Frinniel,” Callie raises her hand to his chin, turning it to look into her eyes, where she wears a seductive and confident glare. His body tightens, captivated by her touch. “Please,” she softens her look, pulling him in further, “There is no need to be afraid to speak plainly. Lady Suul’s light shines in truth.”

 

Frinniel nods nervously, eyes struggling not to drop lower. 

 

“What do they say about me?” 

 

He takes a quick gulp, replying, “That you’re… ahem… generous with your mouth.” He cowers slightly, concerned for her possible reaction.

 

Callie smiles, “Thank you, Frinniel.” 

 

“Is it true?” 

 

“Would you like to find out?” 

 

Frinniel’s eyes widen quickly, and as Callie lets go of his chin he nods rapidly. She smiles, gently pushing him to lay back on the cushions and climbing over him. Callie lets her hands run across his thighs lazily, putting a little pressure occasionally and watching his excitement build in response. 

 

She reaches towards his belt, undoing it as slowly and methodically as possible while making eye contact with the animated artificer before her. “I do have a couple of questions, however, Lord Artificer.” 

 

“Of course, hal Devotia,” he exhales, face flushed with color. 

 

Callie lowers the belt, letting his erection spring out from underneath his underwear. She places a kiss on the skin near its base, turning back up to face him. “Your mages, the ones who are so exhausted. How much do you pay them?” 

 

“12 gold a week, hal Devotia,” he croaks out, struggling to maintain his composure. 

 

“And how much are you paid?” 

 

He closes his eyes and takes a long breath as Callie drops a hand to put pressure just below the shaft, rubbing it slowly. “I’m not sure it’s releva-,”

 

“It is to me,” she replies calmly, letting her warm breath land on his tip, already leaking precum in anticipation. 

 

“3-300,” he croaks. 

 

“Thank you, Lord Artificer,” Callie nods, placing a kiss at the bottom of the shaft. “You will be reducing your pay and giving it to them, understood?” 

 

Frinniel freezes, staring at her with an expression of disbelief on his face. She meets his gaze, quietly staring him down to convey her seriousness, and as she pulls back slightly, threatening to end the blessing altogether, he folds.

 

“Of course, hal Devotia.”

 

“Good boy,” she chirps. She runs her tongue across the sensitive skin, moving slowly so that he can savor every little sensation along the way. “An extra 5 gold a week each should do, I believe.” 

 

“But that’s-,” he begins, interrupted by Callie taking him into her mouth, and she smirks as his eyes roll back with pleasure. “Yes!” 

 

With his confirmation, Callie nods happily, moving one hand to stroke his shaft while the other rubs below and her tongue flicks around the tip. She throws herself into the task, closing her eyes and hoping he’ll be quick. With each taste, Callie can almost imagine it’s Calvin, and her heart aches a little. 

 

“Hal Devotia,” a voice calls from the hallway outside of the booth. “Your presence is required.” 

 

“Of course!” Callie calls back quickly, thankful the couch hides the two of them. She sits up, feeling sympathetic for the disappointment on Frinniel’s face. “My apologies, Lord Artificer. It seems our time is at an end.” 

 

“But…” He sighs. “Very well, hal Devotia.” 

 

If only you didn’t waste your time talking the whole concert, she mutters inside. 

 

Frinniel sits up, lifting his pants to cover himself again. He takes a look out over the concert hall, standing up and preparing to leave. Callie grabs his hand and gently sits him back down into the seat. 

 

“A moment,” she tells him, taking a deep breath. “You may not need to leave empty-handed.” 

 

“But I thought-,” 

 

Callie holds up a hand, placing it into his own for a moment and closing her eyes. She takes a deep breath, trying to focus and call out to Suul. She exhales quietly, searching for the tingling sensation inside that accompanies the feeling of magic. She feels it bubble slightly and attempts to pull it out. 

 

As she opens her eyes, a little tiny spark of light courses onto his hand, spreading out over his body. Callie watches it closely for a moment, hopeful to see it expand and burst into the brighter tendrils of light she was used to, but after a few tense moments, it doesn’t. 

 

“My apologies, Lord Artificer. It seems it’s not in Suul’s will.” She stifles a sigh. It isn’t entirely a lie, but Callie also knows it has more to do with her own shortcomings as Devotia. Junivere always makes it look so easy. 

 

After another deep breath, Callie tells him, “I encourage you to stay here. Enjoy the remainder of the concert.” 

 

“But this is the Devotia’s booth, I shouldn’t-,”

 

“Nonsense,” Callie waves him to sit back down. “I’d like you to remain.”

 

“Thank you, hal Devotia,” he smiles politely. “I suppose I might stay for the Gorola Nocturnes.” 

 

“Enjoy,” she says happily, turning at the entrance to the booth. “And do be sure that your mages receive their raise. It is not good to lie to a servant of Suul.” 

 

Frinniel nods, watching her hungrily as she ducks between the lavish curtains. Callie steps out into the carpeted hallway, looking for the voice that had summoned her, but finds it empty. She gazes down both ways, taking a few steps forward and furrowing her brow in confusion. 

 

A hand suddenly closes around her mouth, quieting the surprised yelp that escapes her lips. Another hand joins it, gripping her torso tightly and pulling her back into the wall just outside of the booth. Callie’s sense alite and she scrambles to try to break free, frustrated that the captor seems to be stronger than her. A brief panic rockets through her until the captor’s voice bounces in her ear.

 

“Relax, Callie,” Junivere coos behind her, just above a whisper. 

 

Callie fights for a moment, and then nods with frustrated understanding, feeling the adrenaline still course through her veins as she tries to calm herself. She raises a hand to her covered mouth, hoping to speak, but Junivere keeps it in place firmly, leaning back against the wall and dragging Callie into her soft body. 

 

“Shh,” Junivere’s voice tickles her ear. Callie tries to speak again, but Junivere’s hand holds fast. “There’s no need to say anything. Just enjoy yourself.” 

 

Callie is about to ask what Junivere means when she suddenly feels a hand reach under her skirt. Junivere pulls her panties down carefully and Callie feels her heart drum across her chest. Frinniel was right there, what was she thinking?

 

“Stay quiet,” Junivere orders, as though reading Callie’s mind. 

 

Her hand caresses the underside of Callie’s clit, which hardens quickly at her touch. Callie squirms quietly in place as Junivere begins stroking slowly, feeling puffs of air blow out onto Junivere’s fingers at her mouth. She hates to admit it, but Callie is helpless to resist Junivere’s soft touch, always folding quickly into the pleasure that follows. 

 

“I was across the hall from you all concert,” Junivere’s voice buzzes with lust, “watching you do so well with him… wishing I was with you instead of the idiots I was around.” 

 

Callie leans back into Junivere, struggling to maintain balance as her fingers circle the drips of precum leaking from her clit. She tries to contain her moans as the speed increases gently, holding her breath and only letting it go in tightly controlled streams. 

 

Callie shifts slightly, freeing her lips from Junivere’s hand briefly, “You shouldn’t have interrupt-,” she hisses, only to be silenced once more. Junivere’s hand tightens on her erection, forcing Callie to stifle a heaving sigh. 

 

“Shh-shh,” Junivere breathes, continuing to tease Callie. “I was listening to you working… and I’m so proud of you.” Callie’s heart flutters quickly as she feels herself give into Junivere’s grasp. “You deserve a reward, don’t you think?”

 

It takes all of Callie’s focus to remain quiet, pushing back against the blissful waves flowing through her body. She shuts her eyes tightly, trying to direct her attention to staying as stealthy as possible; but as Junivere’s massage fills her with need, it feels as though she’s fighting a losing battle. 

 

“What reward would be fitting?” Junivere places a kiss on the side of Callie’s neck. “Should I bless you?” Callie shudders delightfully at the suggestion. “Or maybe I should take one from you…” 

 

Callie releases another tense breath through her fingers, feeling her body growing hot and slick with sweat as Junivere brings her closer to the edge. She throws her own hands over her face, pressing down into Junivere’s with the hopes it’ll stifle her gasps, steadily increasing in pitch. She feels the sounds buzz in her chest, somewhere between a whimper and a moan, rocking her hips hungrily as the feeling takes over. Junivere slips one of her fingers into Callie’s mouth, making her suck on it thirstily.

 

“What do you think Frinniel would do if he saw you right now?” Junivere wonders, voice low and lascivious. “Gods he’d be aching to touch you, don’t you think?” 

 

Junivere’s words pour through Callie’s mind, sending elated jitters to fill out the sensations. She imagines Frinniel seated in front of them, jealous and desperate for her, knowing that Callie belongs only to Junivere. With every stroke, Callie empties herself of anything other than devotion to Junivere, desperate for her approval, for the gift of her touch. 

 

“Tell me when you’re close, understood?” Callie hardly hears the words, only nodding after Junivere ceases touching her, resuming happily after she does. Her legs tremble slightly as she attempts to hold the surges of pleasure at bay. 

 

Junivere has been making good on her promise to give Callie more practice the last month and a half. They spent most nights together; and even when they didn’t have sex both appreciated having a companion against the loneliness of the night. As much as Callie may have initially resisted admitting her desires, Junivere had been right. The more comfortable Callie grew, the more she adored her role as Devotia and all the things that came with it. 

Callie exhales another barely quieted moan as she thinks about all of her encounters with Junivere. Most of the time, it feels surprisingly simple and comfortable, exploring each other as friends and something more than friends. But other times, like today apparently, Callie is helpless to resist the power Junivere likes to wield over her. The older Devotia loves to watch Callie squirm desperately in her arms, eager to please, eager to obey, and completely at her mercy. 

 

“Is someone there?” Frinniel’s voice calls out from the booth, and a wave of alarm crashes through Callie. “Hal Devotia, are you still there?” 

 

“Tell him…” Junivere whispers mischievously as Callie’s heart pounds heavily. She removes her hands from Callie’s mouth, but doesn’t stop stroking her.

 

“Y-yes, Lord Artificer,” Callie squeaks out, pausing briefly to repress the sounds trying to burst out of her. “Just having… having a brief conversation with my associate.” 

 

Callie’s eyes shut tightly as she feels the orgasm creep closer. She returns a hand to her mouth, breathing in short quick pants as quietly as possible. Junivere’s speed increases once more and Callie struggles to remain standing, twitching tensely with each delicious sensation. 

 

“How close are you?” The Devotia’s voice drips with pride. 

 

Before Callie can respond, Frinniel calls out once more. “If it’s not too much trouble, hal Devotia, might I ask another question before you leave?” 

 

“Close,” Callie hisses, then says louder to Frinniel, “Just a m-moment, Lord Artificer.” 

 

“It should only take a few seconds of your time,” he replies, and Callie hears the cushions of the couch rustle slightly as he stands. She tries to fight against Junivere’s grasp, but she holds Callie firmly in place. 

 

“Earn your blessing…” Junivere mocks happily in her ear, only releasing her and lowering her skirt a second before Frinniel throws open the curtain. 

 

Callie quickly jumps away from Junivere, inclining her head politely as Frinniel appears, still feeling her clit aching and her panties hovering at her hips. Warmth and desperation course through her, and she gravely hopes he doesn’t notice. 

 

“Hal Devotia,” Frinniel bows his head, smiling. He notices Junivere, leaning casually against the wall. “And hal Devotia, my sincere apologies for interrupting.” 

 

“Not at all, Lord Artificer,” Junivere grins, putting up a cheery front. “My apologies for borrowing her from you.” 

 

“I would hardly dare think my time more valuable than yours, hal Devotia,” he nods to Junivere. “Truly, it is no trouble at all.”

 

“What’s your question, Lord Artificer?” Callie blurts out, calming herself quickly afterwards. It takes all of her focus to steady her breathing. 

 

“I was hoping to inquire if you might have future availability before I need to return to the monastery.” 

 

“Oh she does,” Junivere replies before Callie. She smiles at her politely, but Callie can see the mischief in her eyes. “I only needed a quick word with her. I am sure hal Devotia would be happy to resume her meeting with you.” 

 

“Indeed?” Frinniel’s eyes flick happily over Callie, who is mildly annoyed by the resulting tightening in her clit. “I would be overjoyed.” 

 

“Of course,” Callie nods. “I shall meet you back in the booth in just a moment.” 

 

Frinniel bows once more, politely slipping back between the curtains with an excited twinkle in his eyes. Callie shoots an annoyed look at Junivere, who grins and pushes her back against the far wall, pulling her into a passionate kiss and drawing a surprised moan from her lips. 

 

You are reading story Devotia at novel35.com

“If you want to cum…” Junivere whispers in her ear, pushing her heavenly body into Callie’s and sending flutters of expectation through her, “Go earn it.” She tilts her head and gestures back towards Frinniel. 

 

Callie whimpers, feeling her clit aching against her abdomen, but nods obediently. “Just give me three minutes,” she whispers back.

 

“Oh I won’t be here,” Junivere grins smugly, lapping up the frustrated need in Callie’s eyes. “You’ll wait for your reward tonight.” 

 

“June…” 

 

“I believe you mean, ‘Yes, hal Devotia,’” she teases in response. 

 

“One of these days I’m going to slap you,” Callie whines. 

 

Junivere smirks at her, but pushes her back against the wall harder and replaces the smirk with a demanding scowl. She holds up a hand, twirling tendrils of light between it. “I doubt you’d be able to,” she threatens, and it takes all of Callie’s strength not to melt into her arms. 

 

“Give the Lord Artificer my best,” Junivere places a kiss on her cheek, freeing her and placing a tender pat on her ass as Callie steps towards the curtain. 

 

Steadying herself quickly, Callie steps inside. Frinniel sits on the couch, looking back at her excitedly. “Thank you for waiting,” Callie smiles, aching to be touched. 

 

---

A few hours later, Callie is convinced Junivere had cast a spell on her before she released her back to Frinniel. While the immediate desperation slowly leaves her, through the rest of the afternoon Callie feels desperately aroused. Any small touch, any lustful glare - really anything at all seems enough to leave her panties slightly wetter and tighter, and she spends most of her time flustered. 

 

Unable to locate Calvin at the concert, Callie continues with the rest of her day as scheduled. Improving as Devotia unfortunately meant more was expected of Callie, and these days it feels like her only free time is after the sun sets. Most of her days, Callie is escorted to events and galas and meetings and anything and everything under the sun. 

 

Sometimes it was fun and unexpected - she learns a remarkable amount about how Solva actually functions. Magic encompasses so much of the city's infrastructure, so she learns about the mages at the college who craft new spells to solve any and all problems that arise. She meets the guild masters and artisans who make Solva the artful city of culture it's known as, constantly astounded by the creativity and drama in their work. Occasionally, she’s brought out into the surrounding countryside, meeting the farmers and herders who keep the city fed and the miners and loggers that supply its raw materials. The scale of the city is unfathomable to Callie, often wondering how Solva could possibly be as large as it was compared to Rookwell. 

 

After she leaves the concert, Callie visits the sanctuary where new priestesses are trained, wondering what her friends must’ve been like when they were here. Priestesses are often trained from a very young age, and observing the classrooms Callie can easily imagine Salome causing disruptions and Willow shushing her. She spends the majority of her time at the sanctuary staring at the surprisingly muscled hands of the head priestess, annoyed Junivere had pushed her away unsatisfied. 

 

Most of the time, Callie isn’t giving out blessings. While she knows it’s the centerpiece of her role, the more she experiences it she realizes that most of her time as Devotia is simply spent encouraging Solva’s citizens. Compliments and praise and inspiring words become effortless for her; and usually it isn’t necessary to fake it. Rookwell had been so lacking in… anything, that Callie is easily impressed. 

 

By the time evening finally arrives and Callie enters the threshold to the villa that increasingly feels like home, she’s prepared to pounce on Junivere at first sight. Callie wonders if she might have anything special prepared for her, and decides that she must. After making Callie agonize all afternoon, the least her fellow Devotia could do is make it worthwhile. 

 

She stops at the intersection of hallways that lead to their respective rooms, trying to guess where Junivere would be waiting for her. She figures Junivere would probably make her come to her, so Callie turns and heads for Junivere’s room. Her feet strut against the marble floors expectantly, resisting the urge to run to the room. She should at least try and keep a little composure, Callie muses. 

 

“Hal Devotia,” Mirabelle calls out to Callie, a little ways behind her. “You’re back. Should I draw a bath for yo-,” 

 

“No thanks, Mira!” Callie replies back. She’ll apologize for brushing past her later, but Callie’s mind feels consumed by a singular focus. But then, she pauses quickly, turning to her and asking, “Is Junivere in her room?” 

 

“I think so,” Mirabelle smirks, rolling her eyes and waving Callie away. “Try to be quieter this time!” She giggles as Callie returns to her eager hunt.

 

Callie’s face flushes, but she turns back and taunts, “Join us and see if you think differently.” 

 

“Not a chance,” Mira cackles. “I don’t want to get between… whatever this is.” 

 

Callie waves her away, smiling proudly. She turns back down the hall, finding the heavy door that leads to Junivere and knocking loudly. As she waits, Callie takes a few breaths, adjusting the neckline of her dress to hang just a little lower and trying to look less desperate than she feels. 

 

The door swings open and Junivere pops her head out, looking at Callie with an expression she can’t read. 

 

“Fuck you for doing this to me,” Callie simpers.

 

“Calli-,” 

 

“Can you please help me out now?” Callie leans forward, kissing quickly and moving to enter the room. “I’ve been going crazy all day.” 

 

“Callie,” Junivere says, a little more forcefully, blocking her from entering. 

 

“What?” Callie folds her arms across her chest and shifts her weight impatiently. Junivere looks at a loss for words, and Callie grumbles, “Are you really going to send me away again?” 

 

“Get over it,” Junivere sighs, pausing for a long moment. A surprisingly serious expression decorates her face. “Just… gods, um…” 

 

Callie furrows her brow, confused and annoyed. “What is it?” 

 

Junivere pokes her head out of the door, looking down the hallway both ways nervously. Something about her aura feels alarmed and on-edge in a way that was unnatural for her. She keeps most of the door closed as though hiding something behind her. 

 

“Is… is someone in there?” Callie’s eyes widen, trying to look around her. “June if you get caught-,”

 

“Shut it,” Junivere hisses. “It isn’t like that.”

 

“There is-,” 

 

Junivere huffs, throwing a hand over Callie’s mouth. “Quiet, okay?” Callie rolls her eyes again but nods, letting Junivere pull her inside and shut the door to the darkened room behind them. 

 

It takes a moment for Callie’s eyes to adjust and she turns to Junivere, concerned, whispering, “So who’s worth risking excommunication for?” 

 

Junivere shakes her head, leaning back against the door and dropping her shoulders. “He’s not here for me, Callie.” 

 

“What do you me-,” 

 

“Callie?” a third voice calls out, timid and cautious, from the far side of the room. She hears a small rustling sound as the figure moves forward, sitting up from the chair he’s seated in. 

 

A chill spirals down Callie’s spine, recognizing the voice instantly. She turns to the figure, trying to make out his face in the lowlights of the room. 

 

“Thank gods, it is you,” he speaks again, relief echoing in his words. 

 

“Mykah?” She ventures, stepping closer. “How did you get here?” 

 

“Quimere,” he chuckles, and Callie’s face is unable to resist the smile that creeps onto it. She throws her arms around him, pulling him up from his chair, holding him tightly. 

 

“Of course,” she giggles happily. “Of course she found you.” 

 

“Yeah,” he grins, hands gently embracing her back. 

 

Callie pulls away slightly, enough to look at him, “How did you get here?” She lets out a nervous breath, “Why are you here?” 

 

“Quimere said you came here, and it seemed better than being hunted down,” Mykah says simply. “I’ve been searching the city for a week and some, but I couldn’t find you. And then I caught a glimpse of a Devotia through some guards on the street, and it had to be you. I couldn’t believe it.”

 

“I know,” she sighs, full of relief. “Me either, to be honest. I can’t believe you’re here.” 

 

“I can’t believe you’re here either,” Junivere hisses behind them, snapping Callie’s focus back. “You could get her into an insane amount of trouble.” 

 

“Do you know how impossible it is to meet a Devotia down there?” Mykah retorts. “I had to come see you,” he nods to Callie. 

 

“And now you’ve seen her,” Junivere scoffs, holding her arms tightly across her chest. “You need to leave before someone sees you.” 

 

“How did you get inside?” Callie asks.

 

“Magic, obviously,” Mykah grins. 

 

“Callie,” Junivere says firmly, “a word, please.” 

 

Callie rolls her eyes, telling Mykah, “Just a second.” She follows Junivere to a corner of the room, where she hisses, “What’s wrong with you?” 

 

“Callana,” Junivere grips her shoulders tightly. “Do you understand how difficult it is to break into the villa? Do you understand just how many wards are in place to protect us?” 

 

“So what?” Callie retorts calmly. “Mykah is an incredibly talented mage-,”

 

“So am I,” she replies hastily. “But I sincerely doubt I could do it.” 

 

“What are you trying to say?” 

 

Junivere purses her lips for a moment, taking a controlled breath. “I have warned you since the very first day I arrived that Devotia are constantly under threat.” 

 

“June, this is Mykah,” Callie waves away Junivere’s concern. “He’s been my friend since I was a child. He literally performed my threading. If I can’t trust him-,”

 

“I’m not saying not to trust him,” Junivere’s eyes soften, though the fire remains lit inside. “He doesn’t need to be your enemy for someone else to be using him against you. If he managed to get inside this villa, it’s because someone wanted him to. Every second he’s here, your danger increases.” 

 

“I can’t just send him away. I haven’t seen him in-,”

 

“If you have ever trusted me,” Junivere’s fingers clench her shoulders with more force, “Trust me now. You can find a way to see him tomorrow. He needs to leave now.” 

 

Callie sighs, mulling Junivere’s advice carefully. She looks over at Mykah, feeling her heart ache seeing him again. How many times since she’d been Devotia had she wished he could be here with her? She constantly missed having him next to her, sharing glances, gossiping, telling stories. 

 

“Please,” Junivere pleads. “Be smart about this.” 

 

Callie nods slowly. “You will be helping me find him in the morning.” 

 

“Deal,” Junivere’s tension drops. “Let’s get him out of here.” 

 

Callie takes another breath, walking back over to Mykah, who waits expectantly. “I’m sorry,” she begins, disappointed. “But it isn’t safe for you to be here. I’ll come find you tomorrow.” 

 

“I came all this way to see you.” 

 

“I know,” she takes his hand gently, squeezing it. “Where are you staying in town? I’ll come see you tomorrow.” 

 

Mykah looks away, frustrated. After a few moments, his face softens and he says, “I’m at the Fleeting Fox in the Rust district. Room eleven.” 

 

“Okay,” she nods. “Wait for me?” 

 

“Of course,” he hugs her again. “Don’t be late.” 

 

Callie wants to snap a joke, but then she imagines Velena’s expression upon hearing she wants to cancel her schedule for the morning. “I’ll do my best,” she says gravely. 

 

“I’ll get him out safely,” Junivere perks up. 

 

“I can do it-,”

 

“I’m not letting you risk that, Callie. Stay here, and I’ll be back shortly.” Junivere approaches the door, gesturing for Mykah to follow. He exchanges a longing glance with Callie but follows Junivere, quietly slipping out into the hallway. Callie lays down onto Junivere’s bed, stretching her arms out and letting her thoughts wander. 

 

How did Mykah escape? What was surviving on his own like? 

 

She thinks back to the horrible first hours of pursuit, scrambling out into the countryside and forests in the dark of night, trying to put as much distance between herself and Rookwell as possible. It had been safer to split up, and she remembers the fierceness in his eyes as he held her goodbye. 

 

“It’s worth it to me,” he had told her. “It’s entirely worth it to me.” 

 

Callie had no idea how to thank him. Mykah had thrown away everything just to help her transform. Everything she had now, all of the good that was in her life these days, all of it happened because Mykah had cared enough about her to help. He’d lost everything and everyone around him. 

 

What must he think of her now that she was Devotia? As stressful as being a holy figure was, it was certainly more rewarding than scraping by like she had been in her first days at Solva. She’d only been able to eat because a tavern keeper had taken pity on her, letting her be a server in his restaurant for a few days. What had Mykah needed to do to survive? 

 

She rolls over in the sheets, pulling her knees to her chest. She wonders about Junivere’s warning. If someone had deliberately let Mykah in, hoping to trap Callie into a scandal… who could it have been? And why? What could they be hoping to gain?

 

Callie’s been getting so much more skilled at the day to day art of the game, learning how to seduce or pretend to be seduced. Junivere had told her the key was letting people think they were using her but to actually be using them back, and Callie feels that she is only just learning how to take control like that. But in the larger machinations of politics, like attempting to have her removed or scandalized - Callie knows she’s entirely out of her depth. Junivere and Velena seem to be the only ones around her that really understand how those levers of power work. 

 

For a brief moment, she wonders what it must have been like for Ellava in her final days. Did she ever really understand she was being entrapped? How obvious could it have been to her? Callie was fortunate enough to have Junivere’s experience; she couldn’t imagine how much more difficult it would be to be surviving alone as Devotia. 

 

Some time later, a light tapping at the door rings into the room, and Junivere quietly ducks inside. She closes the door carefully, only letting out a breath when it’s fully closed. 

 

“I don’t think anyone saw us,” Junivere sighs with relief. 

 

Callie exhales as well. “Thank you.” 

 

“Of course, Callie,” Junivere smiles weakly. “I’m just starting to get used to having another Devotia around me. I’d hate to see you go.” 

 

Callie stands up and pulls Junivere into a sweet hug. “People’ll think you’re going soft.” 

 

Junivere snorts, leaving the hug and plopping down onto the bed. “So this is the Mykah,” she muses, then adds with a smile, “He’s cute.” 

 

“Just a friend,” Callie confirms. “Only ever just a friend. I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen him interested in anyone, to be honest.” 

 

“Shame,” Junivere huffs absent-mindedly. “I was looking forward to seeing you longingly stare at yet-another unattainable man.” 

 

Callie tosses a pillow at her, falling onto the mattress next to her. “So, who do you think is trying to get to me?” 

 

Junivere takes a long breath, turning back towards Callie and blinking thoughtfully. She’s quiet for a long moment, face contorting lightly as a variety of thoughts flash through her face. 

 

“Honestly, I haven’t got a clue. If we were in Tulla I’d have some guesses. Here in Solva, I’m still learning the field.” 

 

“Excellent,” Callie mutters. “Do you think they want to go back to having only one Devotia?” 

 

“Suul proclaimed it at the Feast of St. Valvedor…” Junivere trails off. “I can’t imagine anyone would be able to write that off as something that could be ignored. Maybe they want to replace you with someone more favorable to their agenda.” 

 

“But who’s agenda? I can’t have made enemies this early on.” 

 

Junivere lets out a puff of laughter. “You made enemies the day you were anointed. It comes with the job.” She reads the concerned look on Callie’s face, and gently adds, “We’ll figure it out.”

 

“It’d be one thing if someone sent Calvin to my room at night,” Callie reflects. “People know that I’m close to him. How would anyone know about Mykah already?” 

 

“Do you think people know you’re threaded? I know you’re still a little shy about it.” 

 

“No clue,” Callie closes her eyes, opening them a breath later. She sighs. “Guess we’ll find out tomorrow when he can tell me more.” 

 

“Yeah,” Junivere exhales. 

 

Letting the feeling of dread inside settle, Callie shifts closer, resting her head against Junivere’s chest and letting the Devotia scoop her up into her arms. As much as she wants answers, a frustrated part of her recognizes that it’s unlikely they’ll find them today. 

 

Junivere places a kiss on the top of Callie’s head. “Did you still want some help finishing?” 

 

Callie giggles softly. “I’m not sure I’m in the mood anymore. You owe me.” 

 

“I absolutely do not,” Junivere smiles warmly. “But perhaps you can ask me about it again tomorrow night.” 

 

Callie nods happily, letting the tiredness in her bones seep in. It’s so much easier to sleep when Junivere is around, making Callie feel safe and comforted. As much as her body ached for Junivere’s touch, her spirit also longed to sleep peacefully in her arms.

 

“You, Calvin, Velena, Mira, Civa, Salome, and Willow,” Callie mutters some time later, teetering on the precipice of sleep. “Those are the only people I’ve told about Mykah.” 

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