Epilogue
three years later
Casimir didn’t like dealing with Darrin and Lochan. He supposed Lochan had his moments of being congenial toward Casimir, given what her brother believed Casimir had put Olline through. But Darrin never let him forget he was due a throttling for lying to Olline, even years later. Casimir admitted he deserved it, but he would be damned if he ever told a meathead like Darrin that. Still, Casimir had no choice but to speak with her brothers occasionally, especially now.
The boys liked proof in Casimir’s devotion to Olline to be tangible. That, despite him being a seerani like them (sort of), there would never be an imbalance of power in the form of longevity between them. So, today, Casimir obliged both Lochan and Darrin and reminded them he was already close to two-centuries old, and with Olline being a caster, there would be no imbalance of power in terms of years, anyway. In terms of actual power? Well, Olline had that in spades. Lochan was moved by his speech, Darrin . . . not so much. But Casimir had gotten what he needed from them in the end, and that was the important part.
Zachery, Olline’s father, was a delight, however.
Casimir had only met him face-to-face once over the past three years, but that was more than enough to know that Olline took after him in the most charming ways possible. After Olline had told him of their relationship, and how it came to be, including the bag of shit that was Kullen, Zachery had practically adopted Casimir.
He couldn’t remember what it was like to have a father figure, but Zachery couldn’t have been a better model. Not that he would say that to Zachery Tavos, or, if he did, he would need to do it somewhere where his sons couldn’t hear. They would only become more insufferable.
Casimir shook his head. None of that should be what he was thinking about. Not when it was such an important day for his marvelous little caster.
He focused on the path beneath his feet and dodged all the people who had the audacity of slowing down and stopping to gawk at something right in front of him. Today, of all days, he could not be late.
This wasn’t like his brother’s trial, or even the prison visitation hours. Those he didn’t mind being late to. Routinely. Olline had convinced him to go, to talk with Kullen, that it would be good for his healing journey with Etzel being dead or some other overly pleasant tripe. He hated she was right . . . But loved her for it, too.
He didn’t think he would ever forgive Kullen, even if his brother apologized. And yet, Kullen had been a whole person before the drugs and alcohol and Etzel. If that man still existed, well, Casimir wanted to find that version of his big brother again, someday.
But not today. No, today was all about Olline.
He clenched his hand in his pocket, pushing through the crowd to get into the shop. A line was already forming, the inside far too crowded to squeeze into, but Casimir was a VIP and these people would move for him. He would make them if need be. He wouldn’t miss Olline’s grand opening.
Delora had tried to tempt Olline into a permanent position on her staff, but Olline had turned the offer down, even without Casimir having to say anything. She, like him, had her fill of politicians. Once she was free of that bloody contract, Olline had taken Casimir’s advice and opened her own place. A multimedia café and greenhouse.
Olline had even tempted her friend, Briallea Jensen, away from the Government Plaza to work with them. Despite the pay cut, the woman had been eager to join. Briallea wanted to work with tech and breathing people again instead of having only droids for company in the sub-basement with Olline gone.
Nothing like the multimedia café and greenhouse had ever existed in Antal before, and it was a risk, but one that Casimir’s instincts told him would pay off. It combined Olline’s amazing talent with plants and her joy of manipulating technology, and married it with the artist havens that Casimir had a penchant for. The result was a café where people could dive into their virtual blogs, simulators, or murmur over real coffee while a solo guitarist crooned on the small, elevated stage. All while browsing for spectacular plants they could purchase. At a premium . Casimir had made sure Olline would agree to that or none of this would work.
And if someone needed their magitech hardware or software amplified with a bit of magic? If they needed a digital past wiped clean so they could be free of a past they had long outgrown? Olline and Briallea were available for hire.
Admittedly, Casimir hadn’t anticipated the grand opening of Night Orchid going this well. Olline had a way of attracting people to her that he hadn’t foreseen, though he should have. He had been no exception to that allure. It didn’t hurt that all the people who had once had control chips in them had been the shop’s biggest advocates—especially for special software like the killware Olline had made.
He stayed out of the way as much as possible. This was Olline’s moment, and he wanted her to savor every second. She had earned this, and no one else deserved to be marveled at like she did. Watching her, flushed with excitement, her black and dark jade hair slowly unraveling from the neat bun she had put it in rather than her normal Mohawk, her impossibly bright emerald eyes flashing with joy, Casimir had never been prouder of her.
Or more in love.
He kept his hand in his pocket the whole time, waiting for a lull in the grand opening, but one never came. By the time Night Orchid quieted down, it was time to close. Olline had nearly sold out of all her plants and been hired for three hardware projects. Their barista was dragging their feet, having worked far too hard on too many custom orders despite their opening-day menu. The musician had finished, and Briallea was helping them pack their amp and clearing out before Casimir finally had a chance to wrap Olline in his arms.
“You’re a vision, my love,” he murmured, kissing her on the forehead. “I’m so proud of you.”
She smiled at him, her cheeks rosy, making her smattering of freckles darken. “Thanks,” she murmured, tucking her hair behind her ears. “But I couldn’t have done this without you. Night Orchid is our triumph, not just mine.”
He lifted her chin with a finger so she was looking him straight in the eye when he said. “I simply gave you a nudge. This is all you. I’m honored to merely share the space with you.”
She rolled her eyes, but her blush intensified in that way that made Casimir want to pin her to a wall and devour her whole.
Later.
Olline was pulling away, going to help Briallea, no doubt. Casimir let her go so he could finally take his hand out of his pocket. By the time she turned around, ready to close Night Orchid and go home, he was down on one knee, the black box open on his palm.
“Cas,” she gasped, her eyes wide as they fell from his face to the ring in his hand.
There was no way he could make a ring as spectacular as she could with her earth magic. But he did his best.
He had gathered the debris from the plants that had brought her back from the brink of death and kept them safe. In truth, he had known right then and there what he wanted, but he was such a mess he absolutely could not thrust himself at Olline in that capacity. The sweet woman may have acted merely to make him feel better, which simply would not do. So, he kept the remnants of her plants safe until he was positive he was finally worthy of her.
And until he found the right earth caster. One who could take the material and transmute it into a perfect, black-gold band that twisted like the vines that were creeping back over her windows.
In the center of each curl of metal was a small pink sapphire, a tiny bloom that framed the large teardrop diamond in its center. The diamond had been her mother’s, and Zachery had been all too happy to give it to Casimir for this occasion—once he had gotten her brother’s blessings.
“Over the years,” he began before his voice could crack with emotion, “I’ve called you my precious little caster, my darling, my love, Tav, Ollie, and a million other little endearments. But what I really want to call you is my wife.” He took a deep breath, and asked, “Olline Tavos, will you—”
But she jumped on him before he could finish, drowning him in kisses as she cried, “Yes!”