I'm unaware of when Claudius may have been enlightened, or brought to the light of my deeds. Probably from the matrimony of Victoria and Percius, or that of the bald, stoic soldier and Priscilla. My unlawful act of wedding these fellows.

And I was arrested, locked behind the dark mossy walls of a Roman prison for performing my priestly oblige. "Why ban these soldiers from getting married?" I always asked myself, and if opportune, I may have asked Claudius the same. Percius was young and fine, and the bald soldier had the soul of a father, graced with a warm loving heart.

But so be it. On the cold marble floors I lay.

Still I remained a clergy, and no confine could blurt that away. A priest must perform his duties and so did I, by the grace of God. As a vessel, I was used by the lord to heal a cripple soldier, disabled with such grave infirmities. And an epileptic man, from the never ending seizures. 

And then a fair lady, vibrant with youth but impaired with blindness amidst her radiance, I grew fond of. She was the jailers daughter and helped with the simplest of tasks. I prayed to God, and he restored her sight. 

In a flash, the eve of the 13th day in the month of February had reached, and the next day, I was to be beaten and beheaded at the Flaminian  gate. Oh!! what grief did fill my heart. So I asked for a note and ink, and wrote a letter addressed to a friend - the jailers fair daughter.

And after I had penned the last phrase "From your Valentine", I laid my back on the cold marble floors and slept my last sleep.