The cella was a place of many memories, some pleasant, some near-miraculous, some not so happy, and thus only tenatively did the woman and widow step within its confines, marble and chilly, on the dawn of a cloudless winter day. Silks and wools would be her natural embrace, but an ermine-lined cloak of heavy velvet was likewise requisite to stave off the arctic air, and her hands were ensconced in leather likewise fur-lined. But as she sank onto the steps before the statue of the Kronian, one of those gloves was tugged off so that bare skin could caress the soothing marble of this ancestor.

The forefather, years and decades removed, of the man she mourned.

Why this place was her especial spot for communion with the lares of loved ones passed she could not say, but here she came for more detailed conversations - moreso, truly, than prayers - with two in particular. One-sided conversations to be certain, but her words to those lares was accomplished in a manner such that someone overhearing her would believe she expected a response at any time.

"I am so sorry," were the words to commence this particular monologue. "Six months, nearly, and I feel as if I were betraying you by doing what is expected of me. The children need a father. I want them to have a father." Eyes closing, she rested her cheek against the statue and continued more softly, "And the nights are unbearable alone. Since winter they are endlessly dark, endlessly cold...the empty space in our bed is nearly as painful as the empty space in my chest."

Snuggled as she was against the statue's base, she seemed to find the desired degree of personal contact and returned her glove to the recently bared hand...though her gaze focused on the ring about the third finger before leather covered its glimmer. Then her eyes closed again, more tightly than before, and tears were squeezed forth by the pressure. "I know, my darling, you would not want me to mourn. That you would agree with the sensible continuation of my life for my sake and that of our children. But gods, gods...every day, every hour, you are there, just beyond my reach. If those such as Gabriel who so respect my strength only knew of the sleepless nights I did naught but mourn you, infantile and enfeebled by my weeping and wailing, they would know my strength is but a ruse to cover the chasm in my chest....

"The ache, my love, the ache is so unbearable at times. 'Tis that as much as anything that has inspired this marriage to be. Yes, our son and daughter need a father, and who better than your closest friend? But I cannot meet the coming years and their weight without someone beside me. I do love him; my words were no sham, and neither do I doubt his love for me. But he is not you. No one is you, my darling. No one could be, ever."

The back of a hand wiped away those tears, the moisture glistening on the ebon leather of her glove. "So forgive me for my weakness. I have learned in my years and two marriages that I can bear all but loneliness. And believe me, believe me, believe me...I am still so desperately in love with you that while my body is sated by another's affections, my heart is with you. It rose in flames and with you, for it shall always be yours. But perhaps this new marriage will help to grow a new one so that I may in truth live again."

The elegant length of her frame was straightened then, dignity drawn about her as closely as the velvet cloak itself, and a tremulous smile followed. As if in farewell she whispered to the air about her, empty to all but her sight and soul, "Give me with love to the care of your best friend and confidant, Magnus...but do not leave my side, ever. I still need you. I still love you. And time, death, and life shall change none of that, ever."

Then the aquamarine irises, reflecting lingering moisture, studied the Kronian's statue a moment she concluded softer still, "And watch him for me, mighty Kronus; keep him company until I may do so myself." These last words seemed to smooth her emotions, and at last, with a stronger conviction and sense of peace, Olivia quitted the cella to begin a new phase of her existence.

FIN  

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