Valeria’s Cross (18 page)

Eugenia’s accusations stung Valeria like a hornet, swelling her heart with grief. “What a cruel thing for you to say.”

“It was not my intention to hurt you,” Eugenia conceded. “But you have grown double-minded in your faith.”

Before Eugenia could continue her tongue-lashing, Prisca appeared at the door. “I am deeply sorry, my darling,” she said, rushing to Eugenia’s bedside and gathering her into an embrace. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“No. But thank you. I will be fine.”

“Her baby will bring her happiness in her sorrow,” Valeria said.

“Baby?” Prisca’s face lit up. “What a great God we serve! I am so happy for you, dear Eugenia, even in the midst of your sorrow.”

“It is difficult to rejoice when I have lost Octavius.”

“But you are going to have his child,” Prisca soothed, “and your baby will bring you great joy.”

Valeria could stand it no more. Ashamed at the twinge of jealousy she felt toward her friend’s pregnancy, she stood to her feet, wanting only to escape the emotional scene and return to her own room. “Will you be all right,” she asked, “or shall I stay with you for a while longer?”

“Do not worry about me. You have a wedding to prepare for, so please go,” Eugenia said. “The servants are here to care for me.”

“I regret that we cannot stay, but there are so many last-minute details we must attend to since the wedding is tomorrow,” Prisca said.

“Please give the young bride my deepest regrets that I am unable to attend.”

“She will understand,” Prisca assured her.

Once out of the room, Prisca and Valeria walked down the hallway in silence.

“I know what is going through your mind,” Prisca said at last.

Valeria refused to look at her mother, knowing full well that her mother truly did know what she was thinking and praying, and that she was restraining her tears with great effort.

“You do not understand why God blessed Eugenia with a baby and not you.”

Oh, why had her mother voiced those selfish words? The tears were moving from her eyelids to her cheeks as she
answered. “I understand why God blessed her with a child. It is only right. The baby will be her comfort in her time of sorrow and will provide a will for her to carry on.”

Prisca put her arm around Valeria. “Your time will come, my dear.”

“First, I have to overcome these awful feelings I have toward my husband.”

“God will give you the strength to do so. You must trust Him.”

“Trust whom? Galerius?”

Prisca shook her head. “No. Your Father in heaven. You cannot put your trust in man, for he will always disappoint you, but God never will.”

Valeria stopped at her doorway before going inside her room. “But he already has,” she said, wiping a tear from her eye and turning away from her mother.

V
aleria’s own words sliced her heart like a spear.
God has disappointed me … many times! My whole life is a disappointment.
She slammed the bedroom door behind her and ran to her bedside. Overwhelmed with conviction she fell to her knees. For the next couple of hours, she cried out to God, begging His forgiveness for her lack of trust in Him. She then begged God to supernaturally flood her heart with love and forgiveness for her husband. She prayed for strength for Eugenia in her grief and for the marriage of her stepdaughter, especially for happiness on her wedding day. When at last there were no more tears, she felt the peace that only a restored relationship with God can bring.

The wedding is tomorrow,
she thought, rising from her knees.
I must get a good night’s sleep, as I will need every ounce of my strength to help my stepdaughter get through the ordeal.
Even more emotionally taxing, she knew she would have to face Galerius again, though she was sure he would not come to her chambers tonight, for she had angered him so.

Although Valeria had mentally forgiven Galerius during her prayer time, her heart still struggled with hatred for him
over the death of Octavius. If Galerius did come tonight, it would be difficult for her to make love to him. Just the same, she hurried to the door to make sure it was unlocked.

A servant knocked on Valeria’s door the next morning, awakening her from a sound sleep. Before she opened her eyes, she reached to the other side of the bed, but her husband was not there. Valeria sat up and saw that the covers were still intact. She was relieved that he had not slept in the bed, but her relief was mingled with sadness, her heart nearly as empty as her bed.

“Come in,” she called to the servant, who wished her good morning and went about her tasks of opening the curtains, lighting the lamps, and stoking the fire. Soon the room was overflowing with servants, each assigned tasks in preparation for the wedding day.

Valeria quickly ate the breakfast they served her, and then, with their assistance, bathed and dressed, though not yet for the wedding. She planned to go to her stepdaughter’s room to help her prepare, and then she would dress later.

As she passed Eugenia’s room on the way to the bride’s chambers, she felt compelled to check on her newly widowed friend. To her surprise, Eugenia was sitting up in bed, while a servant held a spoonful of food in her hand and coaxed the grieving woman to eat.

“How are you feeling?” Valeria asked, concerned at the sight of her friend’s red, swollen eyes.

Eugenia’s smile was weak. “I am better now that you are here.”

Valeria approached Eugenia’s bedside, hugged and kissed her, and then took the spoon from the servant. She sat down upon an ornately cushioned chair and tried to feed the oats to a reluctant Eugenia.

“You are now eating for two,” she reminded her friend, “so you must not refuse this food. Come, now; open your mouth and take a bite.”

“I cannot,” Eugenia insisted, placing her hand over her mouth. “I feel nauseated.”

“If you cannot think of your own well-being, then consider your baby,” Valeria urged. “This bite is for him.”

Eugenia finally opened her mouth and accepted the spoonful, though she quickly grimaced and gagged. Valeria jumped back, thinking her friend was about to be sick, and then ordered a servant girl to pour Eugenia some water in a goblet.

Valeria watched nervously as her friend sipped the water. When she asked Eugenia if she felt better, the woman shrugged and nodded. “It is not quite as bad as I thought.”

“Can you force yourself to get a few more bites down? Do not think of your stomach; think of the baby growing inside you! Your son is hungry.”

Eugenia laughed, though her eyes did not reflect any humor. “How can you be so sure this child within me is a boy? Perhaps it is a baby girl.”

Valeria shook her head. “No. It must be a boy. He will grow into a mighty man of God. I am counting on him and Candidianus to grow up and put an end to the Christian persecutions.” Valeria smiled wistfully. “Please, my friend, eat. Your baby will change the world, but you must provide the sustenance for him.”

“I thought you were the one who was going to change the world,” Eugenia responded. “The world cannot wait for this baby to be born and grow up. We need you, Valeria.”

“But I am a mere woman,” Valeria protested.

“Have you so soon forgotten the prophecy the Theban monks spoke on behalf of you and your mother?”

“I shall always remember and cherish those words.” Valeria rose and walked to the window, gazing absently into the morning sunshine. “Every detail of the time we spent in Egypt will remain forever etched upon my heart. I carry every moment with me, wherever I go and whatever I am doing—especially the time I spent with Mauritius.”

“Why do you torment yourself with the memory of Mauritius when you are married to Galerius? I thought you had grown to love your husband?”

Valeria shrugged. “There are things about Galerius that I find endearing, and one thing I am certain of is that he is in love with me. I can honestly say that I am devoted to him, but the relationship I had with Mauritius went far deeper. We shared the bond of love and the bond of faith. Galerius treats me as well as can be expected, but we are unequally yoked.”

“Yet you want to have his child.”

Valeria dropped her eyes. “It is the child I want so badly— not particularly
his
child.”

Eugenia reached toward her friend, and Valeria returned to the bedside and took her hand in her own.

“My mothering instincts have grown stronger since I have Candidianus,” Valeria said. “How I love that baby boy! And I have even grown close to young Valeria. I am on my way now to help her dress for her wedding.”

“Do you fancy yourself her mother?”

“I consider myself more of an older sister. Galerius’ daughter and I have walked similar paths. I sincerely believe that I have been called to comfort her in her marriage, especially on her wedding day.”

“Comfort? I find it strange that you would use this particular word for such a joyous occasion. After all, a bride should be happy on her wedding day. Perhaps young Valeria is looking forward to her marriage.” She paused. “I know you were
miserable when you were anticipating your wedding, but you were not a typical bride.”

“Surely I was not the first reluctant bride in this world.”

“Have you asked the girl about her feelings regarding her marriage?”

“It is not necessary. She puts on a good pretense, but how could she be happy about marriage to such a haughty man? And what a bad disposition he has! Father does not care for him in the least.”

“The child-bride confided in me that she was anxious to have his baby,” Eugenia told her.

Despite her affection for her stepdaughter, Valeria felt her resentment rise. “If she becomes pregnant before I do, I think I shall surely die!”

“Still the dramatic one, I see,” Eugenia commented, touching Valeria’s cheek. “Does it bother you that I am pregnant and you are not?”

“I am envious of any woman who is with child,” Valeria admitted. “But that does not mean I am not consumed with happiness for you. I praise God that He has given you a child to comfort you in your sorrow.”

“The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.”

Valeria marveled at her friend’s statement of faith. “What a gift our heavenly Father has given you.”

“And I am praying that He will give you the gift of a baby as well. But I believe that if this is to happen, you must first forgive your husband for killing Octavius.”

“I have forgiven him … in my head, but my heart? God will have to do this.”

“Did you tell Galerius that you forgave him?”

“I will.”

Eugenia smiled, a hint of pleasure in her still-sad eyes. “Good. It does no one any good to hold resentment against him.”

“Does this mean you have forgiven Galerius too?”

“It was not easy, I confess. But God has dealt with me to do what is right.”

“You are truly remarkable, my friend.”

“Not really. Like you, I am only human, but what good will it do for me to hate Galerius? Having resentment against Galerius would in no way harm him, but it would certainly destroy me.”

Valeria’s eyes grew misty at the thought, bringing a look of determination to Eugenia’s face. “This is no time for sadness— at least not for you, the official mother of the bride. Now, please, help me feed this child who will change the world.”

Valeria smiled and lifted a spoonful of oats to Eugenia’s lips. Once Eugenia had finished the contents of the bowl, a servant wiped her mouth and gave her some water. Valeria lingered a moment longer to make sure Eugenia was going to nap, and then left to go to her stepdaughter’s suite.

Valeria approached the heavily carved door to her stepdaughter’s room and paused, suddenly transported back to her own wedding day. She shuddered at the memory of how frightened she had been on the morning of the ceremony.

Surprisingly, when Valeria had told the young woman that she was to be married, the girl had reacted with childish excitement. If she felt any resentment or fear today, Valeria wanted to assure her, just as her mother had done, that God would give her a supernatural love for her husband.

Dismissing the thoughts from her mind, Valeria took a deep breath and knocked.

A servant girl answered; standing behind her was Valeria’s mother-in-law, Romula. Valeria saw the telltale signs of a
fading beauty shining through the makeup caked over the older woman’s face. Valeria forced a smile at the high priestess. “Good morning, Romula. How nice to see you on this joyous occasion!”

Without a word, Romula stepped close to Valeria and peered into her eyes. Valeria shuddered at the fear and hatred she saw mirrored there, but she stoically reached out to offer an embrace. To Valeria’s dismay, Romula pushed her away. It was an awkward moment, as Valeria trembled at the presence of evil. It was obvious their spirits were in conflict.

“I have come to see the bride,” Valeria announced, her voice pleasant. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

As if Valeria had not even spoken, Romula squinted her eyes and hissed, “I have heard from the servants that you did not join the others in the temple this morning for worship. I sense the gods are angry.”

Before Valeria could respond, an unfamiliar male voice interrupted the confrontation.

“Nonna! Who is this beautiful creature with whom you have become so cross?”

When Valeria looked past Romula to the stranger who had spoken, her heart skipped a beat. A handsome young man with dancing eyes had joined the discussion and now stepped in between the two women.

“This is Galerius’ wife,” Romula said.

“Ah, the beautiful temptress Valeria. Your reputation precedes you. Although after seeing you, I must say there are truly no words in our language to adequately describe your beauty.”

Valeria found the young man mesmerizing. He appeared to be about her age. His green eyes were flecked with droplets of gold, and his dark hair was sprinkled with sunlight. He was tall and lean, with a broad chest and strong arms. Dimples
marked his cheeks, and his lips were full as they dripped words from a deep voice that was as soothing and sweet as honey.

“I am pleased to make your acquaintance at last,” he added, bowing before her and kissing her hand. When he continued to hold it, Valeria became flustered.

“And who might you be?” she demanded, her voice laced with irritation and curiosity.

He laughed. “I am your stepson.”

This time he leaned over and kissed Valeria on the cheek. Stepping backward, she tugged her hand away, disturbed by the emotions that swirled inside her. The young man was far too handsome for any woman to feel safe in his presence— stepson or not.

At that moment, the young Valeria appeared, her petticoats rustling. “Leave Valeria alone,” she ordered, and then swung around to face her grandmother. “And, Nonna, you behave yourself too. Valeria is my beloved stepmother and my most cherished friend.” The beautiful bride-to-be turned toward Valeria. “I will not allow them to torment you,” she announced, planting a kiss on each of Valeria’s cheeks. “Now,” she said, stepping back, “you deserve a proper introduction. This beautiful but highly irritating young man is my wicked cousin, Maximinus Daia, more commonly known as Daza.”

“Daza may be your aunt’s son,” Romula interjected, “but he is also your brother. Have you forgotten that your father has adopted him?”

“Perhaps,” Valeria huffed, “but he will
never
be my brother. Why, it would be shameful to have such an attraction to a brother!”

“As you have probably deduced by now,” Daza said to Valeria, his green eyes twinkling, “I am the black sheep of the family. But I am told that a mother can love even the darkest sheep in the fold. Is that true … Mother? Do you love me?”

Daza’s sister stepped between them. “Be forewarned, dear Valeria, that no woman is safe around this rogue’s good looks and effusive charm.”

Daza laughed. “It is one of life’s rare privileges to make your acquaintance, dear Mother. I trust our paths will cross again soon.” He kissed her cheek, this time with such fire that Valeria feared he had burned a hole in her skin.

“Come with me,” the young girl said, snatching Valeria’s hand. “I will protect you from this scoundrel.”

Stepping away from Daza and Romula, Valeria was surprised to sense such a strange attraction to the man who had called her Mother. It was not the admiration or type of attraction she had felt when she first saw Mauritius, nor the affection she had developed for Galerius, but more of a strong animal magnetism that drew her to him. Her feelings both frightened and startled her, but she reminded herself that God would not allow her to be tempted more than she could bear. At the same time, if Daza had invited her to ride away on a white horse with him at that very moment, she might well have accepted.

The sound of Romula’s harsh, raspy voice broke the spell, and Valeria nearly jumped at the interruption to her thoughts.