Epilogue 8 - Gilded Devotion

The sun poured through the wide windows of the Granger house, gilding the dust motes that danced in the air. Afternoon light made everything shimmer: the clean floors, the soft rugs, the laughter of babies echoing throughout the house.

Vaelith paused for a moment at the top of the stairs, feather duster in hand, to take it all in. She'd never imagined she could live in a world like this, so bright, so alive. Even the air felt gentler here.

Down the hall, she heard Eliza humming. The sound carried like something holy, a melody born of contentment. Eliza was kneeling by the bookshelf, carefully dusting the rows of leather-bound volumes Joey loved. Her apron fluttered slightly as she moved. They'd both chosen to wear matching uniforms again today—crisp tiny black dresses with white half-aprons, fishnet stockings, and heels. It wasn't a rule that Joey had made, merely a habit the girls had started themselves that had grown into ritual.

Each day, they cleaned together from top to bottom. Each day, the house seemed to reward their care, glowing a little more warmly when they finished.

Vaelith smiled softly and continued down the stairs.

In the living room, Madison and Aynsley sat side by side on the couch, cooing to the tiny bundles in their arms. Their babies were so beautiful, just like their mothers—rosy cheeks, dark tufts of hair, curious eyes blinking up at the ceiling. When they noticed Vaelith passing by, both women smiled in welcome, and something in Vaelith's chest ached with a strange, tender joy.

Vaelith continued on into the kitchen, where sunlight pooled across the tiled floor. The scent of fresh bread and soap filled the room. She picked up a damp cloth and began to wipe down the counters, feeling the smooth rhythm of motion calm her thoughts. Service, she'd learned, could be its own form of meditation. Soon Eliza joined her, another part of the ritual. First they would clean the kitchen, then they would work together on preparing an afternoon snack for the women that were home. Once she had hoped to rule, but now that Joey had given her something to believe in, she had found that serving was so much more rewarding.

Looking over at the beautiful redhead emptying the dishwasher, Vaelith couldn't help but wonder what her former life had been like. She'd been told that Eliza had been a teacher at the school that Joey had attended, a woman who understood and conveyed the great context of history. This world was as alien to Vaelith as was she to it, and so the knowledge locked inside Eliza was of great appeal to the former dictator, but every time they started talking about it, their conversation usually dissolved into talk of Joey, of their love of him, of how to serve him better. Perhaps if Vaelith wrote her a letter she would fare better.

"Do you ever miss it?" Eliza's voice cut through the silence, startling Vaelith. She looked at her beautiful companion and blinked.

"Your world, I mean," Eliza clarified. "Do you miss your home?"

Pursing her lips, she considered.

Home.

What did that word mean to her now? Her world, where she had been born, grown, had been reborn, was undergoing its own rebirth. The world she remembered, the life she remembered, was no more. Gone were the beige tones that blanketed everything. Gone was the ether, obscuring all clarity, feeding on the cynicism baked into everyday life.

Her previous life had been filled with ambition, drive, a vicious desire to conquer, to rule. None of that mattered to her now. Even the thought of imposing her will on another person made her stomach turn. No, Vaelith had been made, remade, for something better. Her life was dedicated to Joey Granger. He had saved her world, saved her, and so she would spend every day of her life making his own life as good as she could make it.

And so she cleaned. And she cooked. And she made her body available for him, anywhere, anyhow. It had been easy to make the transition, really. Eliza had already gone through her own metamorphosis, letting her old life and goals slip away, becoming completely focused on serving Joey in all things. All Vaelith had to do was follow her model, stay lockstep with the woman who had known Joey, and loved him, longer than she had. And when she balanced the change, looking back at her old life of drive and her new life of service, there was no comparison.

"Not at all," Vaelith answered, confident in the truth of her words. "This world, this life, is far better than anything I knew. Far better than I could have even dreamed of. To be with Joey every day, to see him, to care for him, is greater than a mountain of gold and a world of power. I am forever grateful for the welcome that you and the others gave me. This has become my home."

"Oh, Vaelith," Eliza laughed, straightening and closing the dishwasher. "You don't have to be so formal. It's just us girls! I love serving Joey as much as you do, but tell me honestly: I saw you two in the laundry room yesterday. You did, didn't you? And how was it?"

Vaelith could feel her ears burning. Of course when Joey had approached her from behind as she was loading the laundry, Vaelith had gladly spread her legs and pressed back into him. He wasn't just the man she served, he was the man she loved! And while she hadn't admitted it to anyone yet, watching Madison and Aynsley with their children had awoken something deep inside Vaelith, something she hadn't known was there. Perhaps one day soon Joey would give her the great honour of letting her carry one of his children as well. The thought almost brought tears to her eyes. A baby. Joey's baby.

So yes, the laundry room had been a glorious celebration of a man and a woman enjoying each other's bodies, but her hope went beyond one encounter.

"Joey was incredible," Vaelith said in a slow, warm, and honest voice. "He is always incredible. I don't think there is a man in either world who could make me feel the way he does."

"Oh, tell me about it," Eliza gushed. "Being with him is a dream come true for me. I've been leaving him notes on his pillow after I tidy his room, every day this week, giving him my schedule, listing where I'll be and when, hoping that he'll come and find me. Looks like you were yesterday's lucky girl. Hope it's my turn tomorrow!"

"Or today," Vaelith said, crossing to the refrigerator to retrieve some cucumbers to slice. "I heard him with Juniper at breakfast, but he is young and energetic. Last Tuesday he found me three times in the same day. I thought I'd died and gone to heaven."

"That was you?" Eliza stared at her, agape, "I knew about the first one - I hope you don't mind that I peaked - but I thought for sure the other two were Indira and Serena."

"All me. All three times."

"Damn."

"Indeed."

The women busied themselves in their food preparation. Again, Vaelith's mind began to wander to her old world. Elorae had visited through the portal. Short visits, not infrequent, and had told Vaelith about the many changes to their land. Colour had erupted from every surface, repressed by the ether for so long, as if it were a long-held spring released to fly. And the changes didn't stop there. Hope. Joy. Excitement. All things that were readily expressed by the population. No more hiding in obscurity. Now people lived in the light.

And faith. Her world had found the power of belief. Not in something strange and distant, an unknowable deity that nobody could touch. No, they had begun to believe in Joey, just as she did. Elorae had described the silver spired cathedrals that had begun to be built throughout the world where Joey's believers would gather and pray, teach, and learn to live a better life.

But Vaelith needed no church to connect to Joey. She had him in her life every day.

Still, she wouldn't mind seeing those spires once. And the colours. And the hope. Just to see.

Maybe one day Joey would take her through the portal on a trip. Maybe he would let her serve him in her own world just as he allowed her in his. The thought put butterflies in her stomach. She had achieved so much in her new life, but to be able to go to the place of her birth and demonstrate to the women there how to perfectly serve Joey was a sublime concept.

Yes. When the time was right, she would ask her man for permission. But for now she had food to make and a house to clean. And so, humming softly, she set to work again—content, purposeful, and radiant beneath the warm light of her beloved's world.