Juleios gently caressed Cristoia's smooth and as-yet-flat belly. "Until our child is born safely, you must take care of yourself. Do you hear me?"
Though Juleios's tone was commanding, Cristoia enjoyed his strict concern. Resting her head on Juleios's chest, she softly replied, "I understand…"
Juleios carefully moved the sleeping Cristoia, got out of bed quietly, and tiptoed to the side room. Feeling his way, he lit an oil lamp next to a niche in the wall, and the flickering light illuminated a bronze statue of Hera, smiling gracefully in her draped robes.
For the first time, Juleios knelt devoutly to pray, his eyes brimming with emotional tears. However, what he uttered was not a hymn to Hera:
"Dear Father and Mother, did you know? Your son is about to have his own child in this world. Please, bless them to arrive safely, grow up healthy, carry on my bloodline, and inherit my legacy…"
