It wasn?t Eanna, The House of Heaven, but Abri nan syel la, the shelter in the clouds. This was not Athens either but Belglade outside of Rhydin?s walls. The smith was no Zues, though he cut a good if somewhat marred figure. The woman in question was not Hera, but to Kruger, Shai would always be so much more than any goddess could be. Shai was real, he could reach out and touch her at a whim. The hours spent decorating the halls and lining the carpets with rose petals was not likely to be a true representation of the hieros gamos. It was felt in his heart though this marriage of the gods would be put forth in as close to Greek tradition as the smith could.

Rochelle had been instrumental in helping him secretly. Whenever the inquisitive Shai would start to question the needs for things Kruger was asking she would arrive seemingly by chance and distract her with questions about the baby. The smith appreciated the help, Shai was too intelligent to be easily fooled. There was in him a belief that she already knew exactly what he was trying to accomplish but indulged him in this way as she did so many others.

The traditions of Valentine?s called out for friends and loved ones, but the smith bent this rule today. This would be about the pair of them. How long until she showed? There had been a pretense of going into the city to purchase more for the coming child. That had been hours ago though, the house had changed since their leaving. Pillar candles of white lined the path to the bedroom; they lit the stairs and illuminated the flower petals that carpeted the floor.

He heard the carriage roll up, and Antonio?s voice halting the horses. He imagined he could hear Rochelle begging leave to take a nap in the little house that had been commissioned for her. Antonio would hurry to offload the carriage and place the goods just inside. Kruger could also imagine a gentle knowing touch to Shai as she took in the state of the house.

Footsteps on the stairs, and the shuffling of feet in the corridor outside the bedroom. The door opened on Kruger, who moved forward with an intensity sparkling in his eyes. He stood naked before her, his calloused hand going to her face. The smith was a man who knew what he wanted, and in that very moment he wanted her hair free to spill down her back in dark waving splendor. He wanted her that never seemed to change, belly bulged or not the smith needed to feel the touch of her across waiting flesh. To know her kiss and let her know his; Kruger pushed the door closed behind her wondering if The Greek would indulge him once more.