Page 84 of Of Love and Treason
“What are you doing here?” Lenia dropped her voice. “We heard you were in hiding.”
Valentine swallowed. “I’m here with a delivery.” He emphasized the last word. “Did you order something?”
“You?” Lenia’s eyebrows lifted. “TheFriend?”
“I don’t really like—”
“Well, God be praised!” She shook her head, wide face transforming from shock to glee. “Who would have thought it was you all this time?”
Iris looked from one to the other as if they’d suddenly shifted into a bizarre language.
Valentine turned to her. “Iris, this is Lenia.” He gestured toward the woman. “Lenia and her family once attended the gathering atMarius and Martha’s home, but when they moved across the city, they joined the church in the Tiberina district.”
“Pleased as pears to meet you.” Lenia looked at Iris, her eyes warming. “We’re glad to have any friend of Val’s here tonight.”
The house was small and did not have a courtyard, at least not a private one. Lenia brought Iris and Valentine into the adjoining room, which was not much larger than the kitchen but glowed with rosy lamplight and murmured voices. In the corner, an old man strummed a slightly out-of-tune lyre. The room held few people, but Valentine greeted each with familiar hugs and introduced Iris, who was met with the same welcome, as if they’d always known her.
Any awkwardness she might have felt intruding upon such an occasion melted in the warmth of friendly conversation. Valentine moved toward a young man, nervously twisting his hands together. Iris decided he must be the groom and looked for the bride, whom she didn’t see. Another older man entered and clapped Valentine and the groom on the back and said something that made the groom turn a deep shade of red.
Valentine laughed and raised his hands. “Let’s get started.”
The few guests stepped away from the groom and Iris followed suit before realizing Valentine had remained with him. She waited for him to join her along the edge of the room, but he didn’t. Conversations fell into a rustling stillness broken only by the old man with the lyre as the door across the room opened and a saffron-veiled bride entered. Iris glanced back toward Valentine and noticed the pomegranate-faced groom, whose tight smile struggled to keep the glint of tears well within his eyes. Valentine caught her eye and winked. Her stomach did a flip as he turned back to the young couple before him.
“We are gathered today to celebrate the much-anticipated union of Farro and Livia, who decided their love for one another was worth breaking the law.” Though Valentine spoke with a glint in his eye and a half smile, the mood of the room remained solemn. The music faded away and only Valentine’s voice carried through the room. Solemn now, as the occasion deemed. Iris caught her breath. It couldn’t be... He’d saidweddingbut she’d thought—whathadshe thought, exactly?
Valentine continued. “Farro and Livia, what you two are doing today can never be undone. Not on earth, nor in the eyes of God. You pledge yourselves together for times of plenty and times of want. Danger and peace. Health and illness. Life and death.”
The couple faced each other and stood in the traditional marriage pose, right hands joined and Livia’s left hand resting on Farro’s shoulder. As Iris watched, a thread of longing swept through her. Would she ever stand like that? Gazing into a face shining with love?
“Farro, before this crowd of witnesses and an even greater cloud of witnesses above, do you join yourself to Livia, until death parts you? To love her and protect her, to deny yourself in preference of her, to love her as greatly as God loved us—enough to give Himself up to death as a ransom?”
Farro swallowed and nodded. “I pledge myself.”
Valentine turned toward the woman, her face still covered by the orangey-yellow veil. “And you, Livia, before this crowd of witnesses and an even greater cloud of witnesses above, do you join yourself to Farro, until death parts you? To honor him, to respect him, to deny yourself in preference to him, to love him and follow him as we all ought to love and follow Christ our God?”
“I pledge myself.” The bride’s soft voice quivered with barely checked emotion.
Valentine’s amber eyes flicked toward Iris. “God created marriage as a picture of His love for us. He loves each of us with a love so deep He gave His own life for ours. When a marriage follows God’s plan, we become a picture of His love to the world around us. And yet, that picture is easily destroyed by selfishness, by putting one’s own needs above another’s, making them feel unloved, disrespected, domineered—and that selfishness ruins the beauty of what God created marriage to be.”
He broke her gaze and looked at Farro and Livia again. “But if we confess our sins, He is faithful to forgive us, and so you two must forgive each other and humble yourselves to ask for forgiveness when you fail each other—and you will.”
There were chuckles as Lenia elbowed a short man beside her who grinned and sent her a pointed look.
“So love one another, forgive each other, and fulfill God’s plan for your lives.” Valentine swept a hand behind him, where a papyrus scroll lay unfurled on a table. “The marriage contract has been ratified by your fathers, so there is nothing left to be done but to bless you both.”
As Valentine laid his hands on the couple’s heads and prayed over them, Iris felt certain that in all the temples and offerings she’d witnessed, there had never been a more holy sight than this. She bowed her head and couldn’t help but think of what would happen if the church would not agree to give up their funds and she and her father could not devise another plan to pay their debts or leave the city.Lord Jesus, rescue us from Tribune Braccus’s grip.
She looked up as Valentine twisted his shoulders through the cluster of well-wishers crowding the bride and groom and made his way toward her. His eyes were warm and steady as they locked with hers. A tingling swirled in her belly.
“You were a little distracting back here.” His voice was low. “I almost wished—” Stopping with something like a look of panic, Valentine swiped two glazed cakes off a tray, shoved one in his mouth, and offered the second to her.
“Cake?” He spoke with his mouth full.
Not sure whether to laugh at the sudden change of subject or be embarrassed he’d noticed her watching him, Iris held out her hand. What had he almost wished? Whatever it was, he didn’t want to talk about it.
“You’re—you...” She couldn’t bring herself to say it.The Cupid.Valentine. She stared at him, trying to reconcile the man who stood before her, mouth stuffed with cake, as... an outlaw.
A crack of a smile lit his mouth. “Are you going to eat that? Because if not—”
