Disclaimer/Author's Note: Hey everyone! Are you surprised? Sorry, it seems that I ended the last chapter with such finality that a lot of you guys thought I was done for good! But, of course, it probably didn't help that I haven't updated in forever and a day… Sorry about that! Things have been pretty crazy for me. I just started college, which I LOVE, but it's a lot of work and I haven't had much time for writing lately. But know that I am continuing this story, and I'm working on it as often as I can! This chapter is much shorter than I was hoping it to be, as I've hit a profoundly solid wall of writer's block… You know what would help? Reviews! I really love to know what you guys think about this story, so please give me any and all thoughts and feedback that you have! Thanks guys, and enjoy!

Obviously, I do not own the Bible, or any of the people therein. Ebio and Raziya belong to me, but no one else. Don't sue.

Chapter 11

Let me begin by saying this: Our wedding was a mess. A mess of cultures and traditions and observances, all jumbled up, shaken together, and running over. This was us, the marriage between a very devout man and a young wife who was striving for that same devotion to a God she had just met, both of them deeply and inextricably linked with a differing and often opposing faith and culture—one that held much more political power than their own... And both very much in love.

But I am getting ahead of myself. Before I regress, however, I would like to say one more thing: It was a beautiful mess.

My father's house was overwhelmed with activity when Yosef and I returned inside. My future husband had been quite certain that his proposal would be well received—a point that I made sure to tease him about later—and had loaded a barge past its full capacity with lavish gifts for me, his future wife, as well as with enough food and drink to supply a feast and celebration the like of which Heliopolis had never seen before. My mother must have sent all of our servants throughout the streets of the city, inviting absolutely anyone and everyone they met to come and celebrate our engagement. I was whisked away from my dear Yosef so that I could change into the light blue engagement dress that my mother had been keeping for me for several years, ever since I had come of marrying age. By the time my hair and makeup were made flawless and I finally returned to the banquet hall, every man, woman, and child of the city of Heliopolis was there, feasting and toasting in Yosef's and my honor. There were so many people that cushions had to be taken outside for there to be room enough for most everyone to be seated. There was music, and dancing, and food, and fun, and so many people that I needed to speak with and thank for their congratulations, that it was nearly three hours before I was able to speak with Yosef again. He had silently come up next to me, taken my hand in his, and led me off to where drinks were being poured. He poured out a single cup of wine, and then turned to me.

"There is a tradition in my culture," he began, his soft voice barely audible over the noise of the party, and I had to stand quite close to him to be able to hear what he said—not that I would ever complain about such a thing. "When a man is interested in taking a wife, he must go to her father's house and pour a cup of wine. The bridegroom takes a drink of this cup, and then offers it to his bride. If she accepts, then they are officially considered engaged." Keeping his eyes locked on mine, he slowly took a drink from the cup, and then held it out to me. I smiled up at him, took the cup with trembling hands, and gladly took a drink.

Our joy was indescribable. Even the minutest detail of that day has been engraved in my memory forever. And I knew things were going to get even better, but first they had to be hard for a time. There were many months after this day, during which I was unable to see Yosef. He spent much time traveling throughout Egypt, visiting with all of her highest officials and teaching them how food was to be stored during the coming years of plenty. Whenever he was able to return to Heliopolis, he only came to visit with my mother and discuss the wedding contract and ceremony; I was not to be a part of these discussions, and so I did not see him then either. But those months were such a flurry of activity and busyness that I would have found it difficult to find time to spend with my husband. There were so many things I still needed to learn to become a good wife and mother that I often feared my memory would be unable to keep them.

There was one day, one hour, one moment of inactivity during those months that I will never forget. My mother was still busy with preparations that evening, and so had to miss dinner, causing my father and me to eat alone together for the first time since he had locked me in my room. Our meal was overwhelmingly silent, and neither one of us spoke a word until we had finished eating. Then my father solemnly turned to me with sad, tired eyes. "Asenath…" he sighed, "I have treated you horribly, have I not?" It was not a question to be answered, and I stared at my empty plate, trying to hold back tears. "I am sorry for what we have become. For what I have made us. I wish you to know… No, I need you to know that I have always loved you, that I have always wanted only the best for you. I am… I am so proud of you. Not simply because of whom you are going to marry, but because of whom you have become. I am sorry for how I have hurt you. I will not ruin your wedding with my presence."

I wished to run to him, to throw my arms around him and cry with him, and tell him all was forgiven...but the pain was still quite fresh. And so I sat there with my fists tightly clenched in my lap, and replied in as calm a voice as I could, "Please, father… I would love for you to be there. I have always loved you, and I always will, and I would do anything for you to be there."

He stood and cleared his voice before speaking, closer to tears than I had seen him since Tumaini's death. "Very well. I promise I shall attend." And he turned and left the room, and I stood and left as well. I was grateful for the maids that came and whisked me away—such a distraction from my thoughts was welcome.

Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading! Sorry again that this chapter is so short; but the more reviews I get, the higher the likelihood of a longer, speedier update--I thrive on feedback! Anyway, I love you guys, and I hope you're enjoying reading this story as much as I'm enjoying writing it!!