Page 41 of Of Love and Treason
Valens inhaled, grabbed the parchment on top of the scrap pile, and turned. “Of course, Investigator, please, sit.” He gestured to the chair on the opposite side of his desk, though the investigator had already seated himself. Valens returned to his own chair, laid the parchment carefully on one side of his desk, then noticed it was covered in crude doodles. He flipped it over.
The Praetorian leaned back in the chair. “Your supervisor made me aware of your family connections.” His dark-blue eyes settled in Valens’s direction. “I apologize for the waste of your time, but you must understand this is standard procedure. I can’t have anyone thinking I’m showing preferential treatment.”
The tension in his shoulders broke as Valens realized the investigator was nearly giving him a free pass. He hoped the relief did not show on his face. Still, it could be a tactic.
The Praetorian propped a tablet on his lap and settled one ankle on the opposite knee. “What is your full name?”
“Valentine Favius Diastema, but my friends—” He suppressed the urge to continue.
A bronze stylus scraped through the wax tablet, recording Valens’s name, living address, education, and years of service as a notarius. Valens relaxed under the easy questions before they took a sharp turn.
“As a notarius, it is required for you to have extensive knowledge of the law.”
“Yes, sir.”
The investigator’s eyes drilled him. “And knowledge of the consequences for disobedience.”
Valens’s stomach clenched. “Yes, sir.”
The investigator shifted. “You are well aware, then, of the marriage ban?”
“Of course, sir.” Valens’s blood began to race. “One would have to live in the Balkans under a rock not to have heard. None of us were able to come to work for a few days because of the riots.”
“Yes, I remember.” A corner of the investigator’s mouth lifted. “A few days off must have been nice.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you are aware that disobedience of the ban is considered treason and punishable by execution?”
“I am.”
The investigator set aside the tablet and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “There are rumors of secret weddings taking place despite the ban.” He lowered his voice. “Legally contractedweddings.”
Valens’s eyebrows rose and crinkled in genuine surprise. So wordhadreached the Praetorians after all.
The investigator shrugged. “Someone’s probably making a pretty sesterce or two.”
“Seems like a risky venture for some coin.”
The Praetorian leaned back and locked his hands behind his head. “Maybe he’s a traditionalist. Anyone you know having financial difficulties? Or has anyone recently come into money?” His eyes roamed the room.
Valens shook his head, unwilling to cast suspicion on anyone else even if they had mentioned financial issues. “None I can think of at the moment, sir.”
The investigator’s mouth tipped. “And it wasn’t you?”
Valens forced a chuckle. “Well, I might think about it, now that I know there’s money to be made off a few ex-legionnaires.”
The investigator didn’t smile.
Valens sobered and cleared his throat. “I have no burning desire to be executed for treason, sir.” That was the truth.
“What about a scribe?” The investigator turned his attention to the group of copiers hard at work in one corner of the room. He scratched the back of his head, brown hair cut short and neat to spite the curl.
Valens shifted, wondering why the man bothered asking his opinion. “They have access to the tools, I suppose.” He wouldn’t blame an innocent for his own crime. “Have you seen one of the contracts?” He shook his head. “No. If you had, you wouldn’t be here. You’d see the notarius’s signature and have your man.”
The investigator smiled. “You have the makings of an investigator yourself.” He pushed to his feet. “If you see anything suspicious or think of anything else, send me word.” He tossed a wooden tile onto the desk with a click. Valens took it as the investigator moved to the next desk where Galik wiped his ink-stained hands and invited him to please sit, even though he already had.
Valens turned the tile over.
