The water felt cool. Although the water of the pool had long been separated from the cold currents of the ocean, it had cooled itself the shade. The damp cloth of his pants stuck against his legs, it felt uncomfortable. He swam often, both in the ocean and in rivers and considered himself used to being wet and even submerged in cold waters, but wearing linen that became so thick when wet still felt odd.

They walked slowly, impeded slightly by the water, forward through the leaves and flower heads that had been decoratively placed on the surface. They came into a shaft of light just before the door that rained down from one of the giant stained glass windows up above. They were lucky it was a clear day. In the light, the water felt warmer, and the light felt warm against the skin. There they stopped and waited for the door to open, with the water going up to Augustus’ thigh. Marielle’s dress floated behind her. He could see her slow her breathing in an attempt to prepare herself, and he started doing the same, timing his breaths with hers’.

The double doors swung open, and through it walked eight high priests of Aurelia, dressed in full priestly garb. Turquoise robe, porcelain mask, gloves and long sleeves made sure no bare skin was visible. They walked, along the edge of the room, where they didn’t have to enter the water then stood with their back against the wall. They were some distance from both Augustus, and the door they had just came through. Augustus knelt, submerging himself in the water so that it was up to his chest and Marielle did the same.

She was proceeded by her halo. The specks of light that hung in the air flew into the room. They moved with stunning coordination, expanding out from the doorway, each hanging an equal distance from the others. Then the feeling he had been told to expect began, the very air around him shakes and his vision became blurry. The water went from feeling cool to warm, then as hot as the water in a hot spring. He heard the footsteps and knew to look down into the clear water. Waves appeared in the water, ripples that emanated from her presence.

The goddess Aurelia had finally entered. She bent down with an empty pitcher and scooped up the water. As she did so, the smooth brown skin of her hand became visible for just a moment. Augustus quickly looked away, deeper into the water, fearful that putting his eyes upon her skin might offend her.

“I bless this water,” she said. He heard her place the pitcher down and then walk away. “Both of you will take small sips from the pitcher and then you will be wed. You may keep the contents of the pitcher and when you are ready to conceive, have her drink a cup of it. It will ensure conception and healthy birth.”

“We thank you, oh great goddess, for your generous blessing. We will honour you in our families, lives, and duties.” He and Marielle said it in unison.

They moved to the edge of the pool, pushing through the throbbing headache and tingling feeling on their skin. The heat from the water was becoming painful. Careful not to let their eyes wander, they took modest sips from the pitcher. It tasted sweet.

“It is done,” said the goddess.

Augustus could see the halo begin to recede, indicating that Aurelia was moving away from them. The halo followed and surrounded her wherever she went.

“Goddess,” said Augustus in a strained voice. He tried to stand, but his muscles felt weak. He could feel the stare of Marielle burning into his cheek. Of course, she wouldn’t be happy hearing her husband attempt to speak freely with a god.

“What?” asked Aurelia. Despite Augustus’ fear of speaking out of turn, Aurelia didn’t seem particularly annoyed. The question rang of boredom rather than contempt.

“I have a request.”

“You would make a request of your goddess?” she asked, now finally sounding shocked at Augustus’ presumptuousness.

“It is a small request. I beg it of you, and if you were to do it I would be in your debt.”

“And why should I care if you are in my debt?”

The weight of her oppressive force became even heavier. Blood came out of his nose and he had a dull pain in his teeth. He made sure to always look away.

“My… brother is dead,” he said, pausing to catch his breath. “I killed him.”

“I heard.” The oppression lifted slightly.

“Two weeks ago my seat had been usurped. Today my enemy is dead, and my seat will soon be restored. Have I not proven myself capable? Have I not proven my debt has worth?”

“What is your request then?” Although he didn’t dare look at her, he heard a smile on her face.

“I request that you ask the magistrates, as Imperator, to absolve my bodyguard Heratio of any crimes. He is held by them currently and is accused of attacking my brother’s estate. That brother is dead. There is no more pressure to have this matter pressed.”

“You would indebt yourself to save your bodyguard? Maybe you aren’t so capable.”

Augustus had no response. Even he thought he was being foolish.

“Fine, it will be done.” At her words, one of the high priests knelt then walked away. “I shouldn’t have to tell you that when I do call in this debt, it won’t be some easy task. You’ll likely regret your decision today.”

“That is something I will learn to live with.”

She continued moving away, the halo completely receding back into the doorway, then the seven high priests remaining followed and closed the door behind them.

He splashes his hand in the pool then wipes the blood from above his lip. The throbbing headache subsided and he began to feel normal again, except the skin that was submerged still felt tingly. Tomorrow, pieces of the top layer of skin would peel off and any clothes he wore would irritate him. He knew the stories from his parents and brothers of the after-effects of the goddess's presence, especially from the marriage ceremony.

Marielle let go of his hand finally, so that she could carry the pitcher of blessed water with both hands, giving it the reverence it deserved.

“Are you disappointed in what I did?” he asked her.

“No.”

“It could end up being a great burden to us.”

“I know. I get it, we need to protect those who are loyal to us.”

They shared a smile and began their retreat through the long hallway they had entered through. When they exited the main doors of the building, the crowd outside clapped their hands. He saw Julianna embrace Marielle in a loving hug, paying full mind to the pitcher between them and making sure it didn’t spill. He felt the hand of Cladius slap down on his shoulder.

“How did it feel?” asked Cladius. “Think you’ll survive a bit of drinking tonight?”

If Augustus were to speak the truth, he would have said he felt exhausted. That standing and walking felt like an ordeal. But instead, he said, “I think I can have a few glasses of wine. But I’ll have to turn in early tonight.”

“Great, I already booked a table at an eatery. We’re all going to head there now.”

He pulled at Augustus’ shoulder, directing him to his carriage. At first, Augustus felt annoyed at Cladius’ intrusion into his personal space and his forcefulness in directing him, until he noticed that he would also bring his hand down into Augustus’ armpit, then pulling up on his shoulder to help him walk upright. His legs were shaking with each step. Cladius handed Augustus over to Gillivan and told him the restaurant they would all meet at.

Once they were alone in the carriage, Augustus laid himself down on one of the seats. Marielle continued to sit, holding the blessed pitcher. She was no doubt as tired as he was, but she was too worried about the possibility of the water spilling. It was an invaluable commodity for a newlywed couple, and the goddesses wouldn’t replace it cheaply if something were to happen to it. The ceremony already cost them a fortune in donations and tips, they’d be truly remiss to have to pay any more coin.

When they arrived at the eatery, Augustus and Marielle sat opposite each other, at the two ends of the table. They were both exhausted, sitting lazily in their chairs. They could put no effort into having dignified posture. They drank and listened as those around them talked. The family members laughed and spoke of petty things, of things to do with business, and of life, of politics and of religion. But they all knew not to speak of Giovannus. That topic was finished, a chapter in the family’s history that was forever closed.