Jewel of Persia (55 page)

She nodded, lifted the hair from her brow. “I cannot quite grasp it. I had hoped she and Zechariah . . .”

“Nearly. You will have ample time to speak to her of that, I suspect. And for that matter, your brother will be by the palace next week with deliveries.” He sent her a pointed look. “You ought to speak with him of it too. And perhaps give him a good wallop for the behavior that led to their break.”

“Oh dear.” Her hands moved to her cheeks, then fell. “I have missed so much of their lives.”

“And we of yours. Do your parents know you are home? That you have a daughter?”

“A message was sent, but I have heard nothing back.”

He nodded. He would speak to Kish as soon as he got home, do his best to convince his friend to relent. He pushed to his feet. “I ought to go. Seeing you are well . . . it is the best gift I have received in many years.”

“Now that it will not mean breaking my father’s trust, I will seek you out. Update you.”

He nodded, turned. And grinned. “I think someone will have to lead me out of here.”

“I will.” One of the eunuchs stepped forward, though it earned a strange look from Kasia. She waved them on, though, and headed the opposite way.

The eunuch waited until they were out of her hearing range before saying, “I usually refuse to leave her side—whenever I must, I regret it. But I wanted to speak to you.”

“Of course. You serve her out of love.”

He drew in a deep breath and motioned Mordecai down a path to his right, near the fountains. “Many love her—more hate her, and the influence she has over the king. Threats hide everywhere.”

“And you want to be sure I am not another.”

His companion smiled. “I can see you are not. More than once I heard her beseeching Jehovah to rally other Jews to prayer. You seem to be the one those requests started with.”

He was useful, then. “It warms me to realize that.”

“She has never spoken of this Esther to us—your daughter?”

“My cousin. I raised her as a daughter. She and Kasia were the closest of friends, though your mistress is four years the elder.”

“Desma spoke for us all. We will serve her, and hence you and your daughter, in this. You have my word on top of theirs.”

“I thank you for it.” And he could not help but smile. Perhaps this was not the way he had imagined their lives, but Jehovah obviously had it planned out.

Jehovah would see them through.

~*~

This was not the way life should be. His best friend dead, his queen and conspirator banished. Haman stood on the wall with arms crossed and looked out over Susa. Swarming everywhere were those worthless Jews, constant reminders of all he had lost. All his world had been whittled down to.

It was Kasia’s fault. Had she not sunk her claws into the king, then into his son, none of this would have happened. Amestris would not have gotten herself deposed and sent away. Masistes would still be alive.

Before she left for Persepolis, Amestris had told him to get rid of the witch and her people, no matter how long it took.

And so he would. He would be patient, he would be sly. He would send that harlot into the bosom of her precious Abraham and all her family and neighbors with her.

“Haman.”

He turned to face his king. Xerxes approached with a babe asleep in his arms. No need to wonder which wife it belonged to. He forced a smile, forced a warm tone. “Your newest daughter grows lovelier by the day.”

Let her grow lovely. Let her be the loveliest thing in the land—perhaps it would protect her when she was motherless.

“That she does.” Xerxes grinned, though it faded fast. “Haman, I have wanted to speak with you. My brother was your closest friend—you must be angry with me.”

Only an idiot would be angry with the king. Better to accept reality as it was . . . and change it when one could. “You did only what you must, master. He was always rash, always walked the line between pleasing you and provoking you—it was only a matter of time before he stumbled into a situation he could not grapple out of again.”

“True things—but fact never changes how we feel. If you wish for a position somewhere else, where you do not have to face me, you may have your pick. A satrapy, a governorship—”

“If it pleases the king, I would rather stay close to your side. You, too, have always been my friend. And I know you grieve as well.” The fault did not belong to Xerxes—Xerxes had done only what he must.

It was Kasia. It was all the Jews. And he would never find a way to rid Persia of them without Xerxes’ power behind him.

The king nodded, his face relieved. “I am glad. You were always a loyal friend. I hope, since you wish to stay, you will stay at my right hand.”

Haman did not have to force the smile this time. “There is no place I would rather be, my king.”

Forty-Two

Thanks to his fussing daughter, Xerxes had the rare opportunity to observe Kasia unnoticed. He watched her dash over to the cradle and pick up the baby, only to hurry back to the vanity when Desma scolded her with a smile. He saw the naked affection on her face when she soothed Zillah, the friendly, sheepish laugh she gave her maid.

Would she ever look at him with such love again? This past fortnight, she had been a ghost. Present but not—untouchable. It was not like those months after the stillbirth, when grief and loneliness overcame her. Not like that at all—she was her same vibrant self now with everyone else. The same bright woman, full of passion and life.

Just not for him. Oh, she would put on a show when it was called for—she would smile, laugh, place her hand on his arm. But it was empty.

His gaze fell on the tell-tale torc. On her table, not her arm. She would put it on again before she left the room, he knew. But the second she regained this sanctuary, off it would come.

He was down to his last few ideas on how to stir her heart again. If he failed . . . he could not contemplate it. Could not imagine a life without her love.

He cleared his throat and took another step into her room. “You look stunning, my love.”

Her smile went tense, her shoulders square. “Thank you. I appreciate the new garments, though they were unnecessary.”

“And a small enough gesture.” He drew in a long breath and regarded her reflection, since she would not look at him. “Hegai tells me you will introduce yourself to the new brides this morning.”

“That was the council’s will, was it not? Though if you would prefer—”

“I am glad you are going. Though if you did not want to . . .” He winced. Had they resorted to this?

A month ago, that tight smile would have been a grin. “If one of these girls is going to rule me, I would just as soon know her beforehand, and offer my opinion of which of them it should be.”

“You could choose entirely, for all I care.”

“Xerxes.”

Well, reproach was better than indifference. “You are the only one I want, Kasia.”

She turned even her reflected gaze away.

He looked to her servants, then his own behind him. “Give us a moment.” Once they filed out, he crouched down before her. “Tell me why that upsets you. Is it that you do not believe me, or that you fear it is too true?”

At least she looked at him, showed him the churning of her mind, the uncertainty in her heart. “Both, if that is possible.”

He sighed and took her hand, though her fingers did not curl around his. “I am not a temperate man. You know that, and I dared to hope you loved me for it, not just in spite of it.”

“That is unfair, Xerxes. This is not a rope or a river or even a single man you sentenced to death. This could have destroyed all of your family . . . even all of mine, had Masistes succeeded in an uprising.”

“I know that. I can only try to do better, which is far more likely if you are beside me.” He squeezed her unresponsive fingers and stood. “As for my devotion—all I can do is prove it. You underwent your purification yesterday, did you not?”

His heart twisted when her face hardened. She nodded, but rebellion gleamed in her eyes. He could call her, and she would come . . . but only because she must.

Must was not good enough. He kissed her fingers and then released them. “I will not force you to my bed out of duty. But I will call no other until you have come to me freely.”

And there, disbelief. “Be realistic, Xerxes. There have been times enough when you would not or could not touch me—you never had difficulty finding your pleasure elsewhere.”

A reality he suddenly wished he could spare her. “This time is different. This time our love is at stake, where it never was before. We are going through the fire now, Kasia, and I do not want us to melt away or burn up. I want us to emerge the stronger.”

She lowered the lids over her lovely eyes, but it only forced the tears in them onto her cheeks. “I feel as though I have already been consumed.”

“Impossible. Only impurities are consumed, and that is not you. Me, perhaps.”

Earning that smile, tiny but true, made his day worthwhile. She sniffed and shifted Zillah so she could dash at her eyes. “And what if it takes me too long, and you lose patience?”

“I will not. You are worth waiting for, my love.”

“We shall see.” She sobered into weariness and patted the baby’s back. “Hegai will come for me soon.”

“Dismissed, am I?” Hoping for one more smile, he tapped her on the nose. “And some people think
I
am the one in charge.”

She offered no return tease, but for a moment laughter lit her eyes.

For now, it would do.

~*~

Dear Jehovah, what was she doing here? Esther smoothed nervous fingers down the length of her fine chiton and tried to banish the doubt, the fear.

She was not like these other young women. Their jokes never struck her as funny, their gossip concerned figures she was not familiar with. She did not care who had received the better length of cloth, whose necklace weighed heavier with gold. She took no pleasure in pecking at the others’ vanity, though they did little but peck at hers.

It would be a lonely year. Quite possibly a lonely life.

“Lovely, all of you.”

At the voice of the custodian, all the girls straightened, beamed. Esther could barely dig up a smile. She liked Hegai, and, if she were not mistaken, he liked her a bit more than the others. Hopefully that counted for something.

He smiled at the line of them. “This morning you will have a couple visitors.”

Whispers sprang up—did they not realize how that would make annoyance flicker over Hegai’s face? Esther held her tongue as the others speculated as to whether it might be the king. And hoped against hope it was not. She felt nowhere near ready to meet . . . could he really be her husband? This man who tread over nations, whom she had never even glimpsed? It felt unreal.

“Ladies.” Hegai waited for them to quiet again. “I already told you the king will not see any of you until it is your turn with him. But this morning two very special women have come to talk to you. First, the Queen Mother, to tell you what is expected of the next queen. She will be coming every few weeks to share her wealth of knowledge.”

The most outspoken of the brides laughed. “All well and good, but who will tell us how to win the title?”

Hegai gave the girl a tight smile. “That falls to our other guest—the king’s favorite wife. Since she joined the harem three years ago, the king’s heart has belonged to none but her. If anyone in the world understands him and knows how to please him, it is her.”

The girl raised her chin. “Then why is
she
not the new queen?”

“Because she is only a concubine. But make no mistake—you may join the harem as queen, but you will still answer to her. All of you. So watch what you say, do not try to fool her with duplicity, and be grateful for the help she is offering you. Now if I can trust you to behave yourselves and refrain from giggling for half an hour . . .”

He led them into another room, where couches and cushions and chairs dominated. Esther chose one tucked into the corner, well behind the other girls, and settled in with a sigh. The tittering kept up for another minute, until Hegai shushed them and the door opened again to a slew of servants.

Perhaps she should have chosen a closer seat. She could barely see anything, first through the other brides and then the mass of servants. They spread throughout the room, one maid ending up so close Esther had to crane around her to try to get a glimpse of the queen mother and wife.

The maid leaned toward her, face intent. “You are Esther?”

Her voice was barely a breath, but it shot an arrow through her. She nodded.

The maid sent her a look filled with . . . warning? “Watch your reaction.”

“What?”

The girl stepped aside, and Esther sucked in a sharp breath. The woman that stood in the center of the room—more beautiful, a bit older, but . . . Kasia? It could not be. Kasia was dead, Kasia had been sucked away by the monsoon-swollen river—yet . . .