Jewel of Persia (18 page)

“Your father provided only for your basest needs.” His gaze swept down her and sent a chill up her spine. “What would happen to those siblings, I wonder, if something were to befall your father? And if your brother slipped into Bijan’s blade?”

The dog’s growling grew louder. Kasia soothed him with a stroke and glanced at Theron, whose hands were fisted at his side. He could make no move against a menace not physical, but she knew he waited for such an opportunity.

She looked back to Masistes. “Why do you threaten me? Do you hate me because I am a Jew, as Haman? Do you not like my closeness to your brother, as Amestris?”

“It is a strange closeness—one must wonder what he has found in you.” He plucked a lily and twirled it in his fingers. “He calls you every night he can. Visits you during the day when he must see another that evening. And yet he cannot be as attached as he seems, since he is not taking you into Greece.”

He was not? Kasia drew her lip between her teeth.

Masistes’ half-smile had none of the charm of his brother’s. “Perhaps he is getting his fill of you now, since once we leave Susa it will be years before we meet up with the royal house again. And my brother is not famous for his devotion to his wives. Once out of sight . . .”

She blinked back hot tears. Their love was too strong to be put aside, too consuming to be forgotten even after a separation of years. Was it not? She would not be relegated to the ranks of all the other women so soon. Would she? “Why do you speak of these things?”

“I want you to be prepared.” He leaned close. So close she could smell the wine on his breath. “There is no purpose in loving a king. His heart belongs to Persia. You are only a diversion, my dear, while he finalizes his preparations for the war. He will forget his feelings for you, and with his affection will go the support he is sending your family.”

She turned her face away. “You know nothing of his heart.”

“I have known my brother all but the first two of his thirty-six years. You, but a few weeks. Do you dare claim to see him more clearly than I?”

She did—she must. But she only pressed her lips together.

Masistes leaned closer still, though he was careful not to touch her. “You would do well to find a lover not so occupied with matters of state.”

Her head snapped back around, eyes narrowed. “Is this your sorry attempt at a seduction? Let me assure you now, my lord, that I will remain faithful to my husband all my days—no matter what he does.”

“On the contrary.” His eyes flashed, dangerous as lightning. “The next night the king calls another, you will come out here and order your slaves inside. Or else the following morning you will be getting news of a few deaths in the family.”

“I will not be extorted. I will tell Xerxes—”

“And cause a civil war?” Masistes straightened again. “Then you love him not as much as you say. You would still taste my wrath, and it is not so much less potent than the king’s. Is your father’s life not worth one night?”

A rustle came from behind, and panic seized her tongue. She knew not if it was her salvation or her destruction when Atossa stepped from behind a bush.

The queen mother’s gaze locked on her son. “I believe your question is better asked of
you
, Masistes. Would you risk all you have for one night with your brother’s wife? When he found out, he would not strip you of your holdings as he did Amestris—he would kill you.”

Masistes stood, though he looked none too concerned. “He would not find out, Mother.”

Kasia took to her feet to keep from feeling so overpowered by the others.

Atossa shook her regal head. “You give him too little credit. Your brother knows what transpires in his house.” Her gaze flicked to Kasia and softened. “You do well to refuse this arrogant pup. Forget he ever approached you, child, and fear not for your family. He will not raise his hand against them. You.” She glared at her son. “Keep your distance from Kasia. And if anything happens to her family, rest assured Xerxes will know who to blame for it.”

Masistes rolled his eyes and brushed the soil from his clothing. “As always, Mother, your favor is clear.”

“If I did not love you, I would not have taken the time to warn you—I would have gone directly to your brother and let
him
deal with you. Do not question my heart. If it seems I favor him, it is because he is king and I must focus more on his goings-on.”

Masistes turned away, as if all this were nothing to him. As if the threat that had her quivering inside was nothing but a game.

She would never learn to live with such intrigue. Never.

He even dared to smile. “He is king only because of an accident of birth. Had
I
been the firstborn of Darius after his ascension—”

“Then the god would have made a grave error.” Teasing colored Atossa’s tone. “You may have the same temper, but you lack the wisdom your brother has shown. Get you back to your own house, my foolish son. I will not have you disrupting your brother’s anymore.”

Masistes chuckled and bowed to his mother. “Good night, sweet matron.” He turned to Kasia. “My apologies for upsetting you. Rest assured I will find my amusement elsewhere.”

Kasia sagged when he strolled away. These people were baffling. How could they toy so easily with matters of the heart, tamper so readily with fidelity and trust? Was nothing sacred to them?

Atossa’s hand settled on her shoulder. “I know it does not seem so to you, but this is nothing to concern yourself over. Masistes will not harm your family, and he will not approach you again. He was only intrigued, I think, because he heard you thought it him you met that first day.”

Her brows drew together. “Xerxes told him that?”

“He was chastising Haman for not making the truth known to you, that is all.” Atossa patted her shoulder, then withdrew her hand. “You are given much to prayer, I hear. Why do you not return to your chamber and spend some time in quiet contemplation? I am sure your God will grant you a return of peace.”

Kasia nodded and sent a glance to her servants so they could stir themselves. Prayer was exactly what she needed. Perhaps Jehovah could help her better understand this world she would spend her life in.

~*~

Xerxes hummed a snippet of one of Chinara’s songs and stepped into the silent sanctuary of his private palace. He was glad the feast was over. Soon enough the expedition would begin, but he would enjoy these last days of quiet.

The women had calmed down, praise the god. Their docility was undoubtedly a show, but it was a show he appreciated.

“My son, wait.”

He paused and turned to greet his mother with a smile. It froze when he saw the furrow etched into her forehead. “What is it?”

She shook her head and indicated they should continue moving. He led her into his receiving chamber and motioned her onto one of the gilded couches. “Is something wrong?”

She sighed and sank to the cushion. “Will you take Kasia with you into Greece?”

Xerxes frowned and motioned a servant to the wine. “You concern yourself over which concubines I take?”

“In this case, yes. I know you are fond of her, Xerxes. Why would you not include her in your entourage?”

He accepted the golden rhyton put in his hands and took a long sip. The wine did nothing to settle the question in his mind. “I want to. The thought of being away from her so long . . . but there are no guarantees in war. There is always the chance an enemy could take us unaware. Or that the travel itself could harm her.”

Mother lifted her brows. “And if you leave her here, she will be dead by the time you return. Amestris still has much power, my son, and much hatred for Kasia. You would have done better to have her executed.”

“It would have been simpler. But her anger was justified.” He paced to a window and looked out over the citadel. It gleamed bronze in the evening sun. All the past week he had been weighing the situation. “You recommend taking her?”

“Strongly, both for your peace of mind and her safety. Would even the war be enough to distract you from worrying over her if she were not with you?”

His lips pulled up. “Probably not. I have never loved like this, Mother.”

“Understandable—I am fond of her myself. She is the first person I have ever met who is completely free of guile.”

He chuckled and took another drink from his cup.

When he faced his mother again, she had a contemplative look on her face. “I believe this to be the wise choice, but you must be cautious. What attracts you will attract others, and women will be in short supply.”

“I trust Kasia not to involve herself in an affair willingly, and any who attempt to force her will wish they are dead long before I grant such relief.”

Mother leaned back, regarding him steadily. “Perhaps you ought to have made that clear before now, Xerxes. I just interrupted your brother in the garden trying to threaten her into a tryst.”

“
What
?” Blood surged, thrummed, and awoke every fear. “I will kill him! I will—”

“Calm yourself.” A small smile fluttered over her mouth. “She was admirable in her refusal, and he will not attempt it again.”

“That is hardly the point.” His fingers gripped the chalice so tightly it was a wonder the metal did not deform. “Does he think such behavior will go unpunished?”

“He thought such behavior would go unnoticed. But had I not overheard and stepped in at the time, I have no doubt Kasia would have run to you to seek your help. He threatened to have her father and brother killed.”

He could squeeze no tighter on the cup so dashed it to the ground. “I would threaten his parent and brother in return, were they not you and I.”

Mother chuckled. “All he did was make a foolish attempt for a charming girl. To his credit, when he saw there would be no success, he desisted immediately.”

“Irrelevant. The fact that he would even try! Perhaps I ought to seduce
his
wife and see how
he
likes it.”

Mother shook her head and stood. “When will you boys leave behind the follies of youth? Leave his wives alone and let this rest. I only told you because I did not want it to reach your ears from another source—one that would not temper your anger.”

It would have, he was sure. Kasia’s servants knew to pass along anything of relevance. He grunted and folded his arms over his chest. “I will not forget this.”

She glided forward and stretched up to kiss his cheek. “You have larger concerns to occupy you right now. Be content in the knowledge that Kasia loves you. Good night, Xerxes.”

He let her go but held his ground for a long moment. The blood still simmered. Was he surprised that Masistes wanted Kasia? No—his interest had been clear enough. But Masistes was always interested in every new female, and it had never led to an attempted seduction before.

No matter that his attempt had been foiled. It was unforgivable that he would try to steal the wife of his brother and king. Unforgivable that he attempt it by a threat against his beloved’s family.

But he could not afford vengeance yet. Masistes had command over one of the largest parts of his army, was governor of a few vital cities. The war was more important than punishment for a failed mistake.

He would remember this, though. Only a fool would think he would forget.

And Kasia—she was not accustomed to these things, she would be upset. He spun around and found the door open already. Xerxes shook his head as he strode forward. “Am I so predictable?”

Zethar smiled. “If I could not predict you, I would be a poor servant indeed.”

When he arrived at the minuscule room that was becoming as familiar to him as his own, he was not surprised to find Kasia lying on her rug. With a motion for silence, he crept in until he could hear the cadence of her murmurs.

She spoke in Hebrew, but he caught a few words he recognized. Ahasuerus, which he knew to be his own name in her tongue. His brother’s name. And . . . “Who is Vashti?”

Kasia started and sat up, a hand to her chest. “How can a man who travels with a whole slew of servants surprise me so frequently?”

He chuckled and sat on the edge of her bed. “I suspect it is because you give yourself so fully to your tasks. Vashti is . . . ?”

“It carries the same meaning as Amestris.” She rocked back on her heels and then stood.

Xerxes grinned. “She would hate it. We all ought to make it a point to call her that.”

“Xerxes.” Though she chided him, she sat beside him and snuggled into his side.

When he slid an arm around her and held her like this, it was as if the rest of the world ceased to matter. If only it were so. “How can you pray for her? She would be the first to call herself your enemy.”

“All the more reason to beseech Jehovah on her behalf.” Her gaze fell to the shawl draped over him, her hands splaying against the fabric. “This is exquisite. Such detail in the weaving—I have far to go before my skill could match it.”

Xerxes lifted the hem of his favorite garment. “Amestris began it when my father announced I would be his heir. I wore it the first time when the crown was put on my head. Perhaps I ought to put it away now, given—”