style="font-size:15px;"> Following Eugenia, Valeria hurried away, relieved to escape the clutches of Galerius.
“What did he say to you?” Eugenia asked when they were out of hearing distance.
“That I was pretty.” Valeria laughed nervously. She decided not to make an issue of the uncomfortable encounter because of Eugenia’s tendency to overreact. From now on, however, Valeria determined she would avoid their guest.
“Do not allow the general’s honey mouth to flatter you,” Eugenia warned. “He may be handsome, but it is inappropriate for you to be alone with such a charmer—especially a married one.”
Valeria was incredulous. “You find him attractive? And charming?”
Eugenia blushed. “There is no disputing that fact.”
“Well, I find him revolting.”
This time Eugenia laughed. “Oh, you are still such a little girl, dear one!”
Following her encounter with Galerius, Valeria avoided the hallways and enjoyed breakfast alone in her private garden. Though she noticed him every morning, watching her from his bedroom window, she managed to evade him. Yet his stares made her uncomfortable. Even during dinner he spied on her out of the corner of his eye, but she pretended not to notice.
This particular morning, Valeria hurried down the marble steps into the magnificent gardens surrounding the palace. Servants appeared out of nowhere, as Valeria glided toward the table for breakfast. Eager to please, they fluttered around the princess as she took her seat on the divan before the table laden with delicacies. A dark male servant filled her tumbler with grape juice from a golden pitcher. Valeria smiled in gratitude, then pointed to a sumptuous apricot that crowned the platter of fruit. Within seconds, it appeared in slices upon her plate.
A loud voice boomed throughout the garden—Galerius! Valeria ducked behind the flowers arranged in a cobalt vase on the table, but to her surprise, Galerius did not even glance her way when he and his entourage passed by. Instead, he proceeded through the garden, flanked by four bodyguards, toward a stranger who had just arrived atop a magnificent ebony horse.
In the short time Galerius had been their guest at the palace, Valeria and the servants had come to despise him. And yet Valeria enjoyed the company of his daughter, also named Valeria, which caused some confusion in the household. The girl was only a year or so younger than Valeria, and they both enjoyed the company of the Egyptian youth. But the younger Valeria’s parents, both pagans, strictly forbade their daughter to accompany the group of women to the monastery.
Valeria strained now to see the visitor in the garden, who had dismounted and stood erect, waiting. When she realized he was a soldier, she called to a nearby servant, “Official business? Perhaps another war has broken out.” The servant, appearing disinterested, nodded and set a bowl of honeyed pottage in front of her. She picked up her spoon but set it down again, squinting as the mid-morning sun glinted off the metal helmet held in the hand of the tall, broad-shouldered warrior. There was something about him . . .
Valeria rose from the table and peered through the boxwoods for a closer look at the young soldier who waited among the roses. His back was turned halfway toward her, his eyes fixed on some distant point of reference. Was that a cross emblazoned upon his helmet? She peered closer. Yes, it was!
Although there were many Christians in the Roman Army, Galerius’ hatred for them was well-known. Why would he choose to meet with this particular soldier? If the general had agreed to see him, Valeria presumed this young man was a distinguished warrior, which intrigued her all the more.
Though she could not see his full face from her vantage point, the outline of the handsome stranger’s aquiline features and his muscular build made her heart flutter. She thought he looked like a living statue of Apollo, and though she was tempted to stay where she was until he turned and revealed his face, she convinced herself to return to the table. There was no sense risking attracting Galerius’ attention. Besides, she would still have a nice view of the attractive soldier from the divan.
Lifting her goblet, she sipped the grape juice, hoping her pulse would slow and her hands would stop trembling. Excitement churned in the pit of her stomach, and the strange and unfamiliar sensation frightened her. Perhaps this soldier, unlike the athlete she had seen a month ago, was interested in marriage. The visitor remained oblivious to her presence, so she took full advantage of her brief invisibility to study him, trying to imagine his thoughts. Was he remembering his last battle, or anticipating the next? Did he have a wife who longed for him at home while he was away at battle? The thought disturbed her, so much so that she quickly and quietly returned to her earlier spot among the bushes.
When Galerius approached the soldier, Valeria ducked so he would not see her. From there, she watched the young man fall to his knees, cross his right arm over his chest, and pound his heart with his fist in a salute to a superior officer.
Galerius motioned for the soldier to stand. Both men reached out their arms and touched their fingertips in the traditional Roman greeting. Valeria listened intently while he addressed the young visitor. “Captain Mauritius, the great Emperor Diocletian has summoned your Theban legion into battle in Gaul. Are you prepared?”
Mauritius! Could it be? Valeria’s heart banged against her ribs. She had nearly given up hope of meeting him . . . and yet, she had prayed, had she not? Now God had brought him to her garden!
Valeria watched the men converse until Galerius strode away, perhaps on his way to the Great Temple of Ramses to make his daily sacrifices. She abandoned her meal and hurried to the other side of the hedges. This could be the only opportunity she would have to speak with Mauritius, who had resumed his pensive pose, possibly contemplating his new orders while he waited for a stable hand to fetch his horse.
The closer Valeria got, the more handsome the soldier appeared. As daughter of the Roman emperor, her privileged life had afforded her introductions to hundreds of rulers and kings, but she thought Mauritius far more regal than any man she had ever met.
Of course, she had no intention of admitting that to him. For now Valeria would be content to hear his voice. She had heard so much about Mauritius since the day she had seen him in the arena, but they had never met—until now.
Valeria stood behind the bushes for a moment, mustering up her courage to speak to the captain. At last she stepped forward and cleared her throat. “Captain Mauritius?” Her voice squeaked, causing her cheeks to flush with embarrassment, but she stood her ground.
Valeria had expected Mauritius to jolt from his reverie and spin around in the direction of her voice, but he did not. Slowly he turned, as if he had known all along that she was there, watching him. Perhaps he had.
Mauritius smiled, revealing the whitest teeth she had ever seen. His dark eyes twinkled with a delight that appeared close to amusement, and he dipped his head in a slight bow.
“Captain Mauritius, at your service.” He chuckled. “And who might you be, lovely lady?”
Valeria could not speak. His eyes! Valeria had never seen any quite like them. It was as though he could see inside her soul. And his voice! Joy resounded in his words, as smooth and warm as honey, yet authoritative, as she would have expected from a man in his position. If she had thought he was attractive from a distance, he was more so now that he faced her with his square jaw and chiseled features, his dark curls moving slightly in the breeze. The golden cross that hung
