Esther : Royal Beauty (9781441269294) (19 page)

So I invited them to join me in the queen's garden.

The children soon began to arrive, accompanied by their mothers or eunuchs who served the harem. I greeted everyone with a smile and suggested the children play among the hedges while we waited for the others to arrive. Because I was not ready to reveal my barely visible pregnancy, my handmaids had dressed me in a flowing shift of white linen, leaving my hair to hang free around my shoulders. Not wanting to intimidate the little ones, I was glad I looked, as one of my handmaids said, “almost like a child” myself.

I spotted Hatakh counting the youngsters. When he had finished, he looked at me and grimaced. “Only three of the king's offspring are not here.”

I suspected which three were missing, but I had to be sure. “Who has not yet arrived?”

“The sons of Vashti, my lady. The crown prince and his brothers.”

I drew a deep breath to quell my irritation, then smiled. “Then we shall play without them. Maybe next time they'll beg their mother to come.”

Hatakh, who could not understand why anyone would want children underfoot, watched in bewilderment as I stood on a marble step of the portico and clapped. “Children! Come here, please.”

Those who were old enough to walk hurried forward, then prostrated themselves. “Thank you, now get up,” I said, embarrassed to see so many little rear ends wavering before me. “Please, this is a time to play. You don't have to lower yourself every time you approach.”

A little boy in the front of the group lifted his head and squinted at me. “But you're the queen.”

“This is true, yes. But when I'm in the garden with you, I will be your friend. And today I'd like to teach you a new game.”

The brave lad in front rose to his knees. “Do we ride horses?”

“No horses.”

“Do we need spears?”

“No spears, I'm afraid. We only need ourselves.”

More heads popped up, and puzzled looks appeared on the faces of the concubines who held their toddlers. “Even the little ones can play,” I said, smiling at the women, “but you bigger children must be careful not to knock them down. Understand?”

The children rose slowly as I walked into the midst of them. Soon one of my children would be among this group, and he or she would have the kind of family I had always wanted. Mordecai used to tell me that the Jewish community was all the family I needed, but
this
is what I longed for, the shiny-faced joy of little ones who did not have to worry about running on the Sabbath or eating a forbidden food at the bazaar. . . .

“This team—” I gestured to the group on my right—“will hold hands and form a line. You will be the army of Saul, a fierce king. And this team—” I gestured to the group on my left—“will hold hands in a line and be the army of the Philistines, a fierce people. And the Philistines will say, ‘By right or by might, send David to fight!'”

The children shuffled about in confusion, but the eunuchs helped them form two lines, one facing the other. Then the Philistines halfheartedly shouted the challenge to the first group, who then looked at me in silent expectation.

Would this be any fun for them at all? “Now,” I told the army of Saul, “you must choose a David.”

The children looked at each other, then one of them stepped forward. He must have been about the age of the crown prince and was equally as tall.

“Good choice.” I smiled in approval. “Now, David, you must run toward the line of Philistines as fast as you can. They will hold hands as you run, but if you break through the line, you may take a captive back to the army of Saul. If you can't break through their line, you become
their
captive.”

A light appeared in the boy's eye as he grasped his objective. With
his siblings around him, he crouched in a starting position, then raced toward the opposite line, choosing a weak spot between two of the younger ones. They released each other's hands as soon as it became apparent he was barreling toward them, and my young David burst through the line with a victorious shout.

His teammates cheered and chattered as I drew near. “Congratulations, David! Now you may take a captive back with you to the army of King Saul. And by the way—” I drew closer to hear him better—“what is your real name?”

“Pharnaces,” he said, lowering his chin as he gave me a shy look. “Son of Malta.”

“Congratulations, sweet Pharnaces.” I reached for his hand and clasped it. “You are a fine player, and I'm sure you are a fine prince.”

The charming child beamed at me, then snagged a little girl's hand and dragged her back to his group.

We played the game for over an hour, and at one point I joined a team and collapsed in delight when my gentle charge toward the enemy line resulted in my stumbling into a living net of arms and legs. I sank to the soft grass, breathed in the scent of warm, sweaty children, and decided I couldn't remember a happier moment.

Later, when the children had gone back to their mothers, I met Hatakh in the garden to inspect the battlefield for damage. “To my knowledge, no queen has ever done anything like this,” the eunuch said, shaking his head. “I shall have to ask Harbonah if Vashti—”

“I care not what she did,” I interrupted, taking pains to make sure my voice reflected the happiness I felt. “I am a different woman and a different queen. I want the king's sons and daughters to enjoy their station, but also to learn about the world outside Persia.”

The eunuch blinked. “But there is no world outside Persia—nothing that matters, anyway. The king's empire stretches from horizon to horizon—”

I turned toward the southeast, toward the distant rubble that
was Jerusalem. “Persia has not assimilated every people and culture, Hatakh.”

The sound of leather slapping on marble diverted my attention. A servant stood on the portico, his face red and his eyes as wide as hibiscus blossoms. “My queen! The lady Vashti approaches.” Remembering his manners, he was about to lower himself to the floor, but I waved him away with a flick of my hand. I struggled to remain calm before Hatakh, but my happiness vanished like morning fog.

What business did Vashti have with me? I had no wish to see her, and this ought to be the one place where I did not have to receive anyone I didn't want to encounter. . . .

A shadow fell across the lawn, forcing me to look up. Vashti waited on the portico, still far more regal and lovely than I could ever hope to be. She stood at least a hand's width taller than me, and though she had borne three children, she remained slender through the waist and richly endowed above.

Even Hatakh seemed stunned by her icy beauty.

Ignoring royal protocol, she did not bow or bend in my presence. Struck by her commanding personality, I resisted the urge to bow before her.

“You asked for my children,” she said simply, her voice as cool as an evening breeze, “and you shall not have them. They are mine, they are the king's, they are Persia's. They are most definitely not yours.” She arched a brow as her dark eyes bore into mine. “Nor do they belong to whatever people you come from, for you are most definitely
not
Persian nobility.”

She turned, a majestic column pivoting in one graceful movement, and walked away, leaving a trail of awe in her wake. My handmaids had been struck speechless, Hatakh remained stunned, and I felt . . . cowed.

I had lived my entire life in Susa, yet I had never felt like a second-class citizen until that moment.

I
HAD
JUST
SENT
ONE
OF
THE
LESSER
EUNUCHS
to fetch the queen when I saw Biztha approaching, his face flushed and perspiring. I took a deep breath and braced myself, sensing the eunuch brought bad news. No one wore such a worried face at the end of the day unless he was burdened with a troubling report.

“Harbonah.” Biztha whispered my name with a sigh of relief. “There is trouble in the harem and I don't know if we should tell the king. But Shaashgaz said I should tell you.”

I lifted a brow. “What kind of trouble?”

“One of the young princes has gone missing. His nurse left him sleeping with the other boys, but when she went to check on them, he had disappeared. We have searched the nursery and the harem, but no one has seen him. None of the women has seen him, either.”

I folded my arms. “That's a lie. No one goes in or out of the harem without one of the guards seeing something.”

“They insist they didn't see the boy leave. That's why I suspect trouble is afoot. No child of the king's has ever gone missing from his bed.”

I narrowed my gaze as I considered the implications. “Is it the crown prince?”

“No, Darius sleeps safely with his brothers. It's Pharnaces, son of the concubine Malta. He's a good boy who never causes trouble. His mother is hysterical, and his tutor is quite distraught.”

I scratched my chin. Biztha had good instincts, and he was almost certainly correct to think that trouble stirred in the harem. But who would take one of the king's children? A rival for the throne would snatch the crown prince or his brothers, not one of the king's lesser sons.

“Are you sure the boy did not wander away? Could he be hiding? Did someone reprimand him?”

“No, and—”

Biztha fell silent as the sounds of sandals slapping against tile alerted us to the approach of the queen's escort. Two Immortals led her retinue, two walked at her sides, and two followed in the rear. The queen smiled when she caught my eye, but I must have been too distracted by the problem at hand to adequately smooth my expression. She halted at once.

“Harbonah—is all well with you, my friend?”

Biztha and I fell to the floor in obeisance. “Grace and peace to you, lady.”

“Rise, please, and tell me what troubles you.”

I stood. “Nothing that need concern you, my queen.”

“If something concerns you, then it concerns me.” A line occupied the space between her brows. “If it will trouble the king—”

“In truth, the king does not yet know, but one of the young princes has gone missing. Guards are searching the harem for him now.”

The line between her brows deepened as her hand flew to the rising mound of her belly. I did not know if the king had discovered her secret, but I could not help noticing the change in her manner—of late Esther had been more quiet, more gentle, and more protective. She was undoubtedly in a most delicate condition, so news of a missing prince was bound to upset her.

“I'm sure it is nothing, my queen. The children often play hiding games—”

“Which child?” The eyes she lifted to mine had gone cloudy with worry. “How old?”

“He is called Pharnaces, my queen.” Biztha answered for me. “You should not worry. He is a big boy and quite capable of handling himself.”

“I know him well.” The corners of the queen's mouth went tight with distress. “Please find him, and will you send word when you do?” Her gaze met mine again. “I'll let you tell the king when the time is right, but please—even if you must send a message secretly, do let me know when he is found. He has become quite precious to me.”

Doubtless remembering that she was on her way to see the king, she drew her lips into a tight smile, then reached out to squeeze my arm. “Please, Harbonah, don't forget.”

I promised her I would not.

I
TOLD
H
ARBONAH
THAT
I
WOULD
NOT
SPEAK
to the king about the missing child, so I tried to put thoughts of Pharnaces out of my mind. But though I sat at dinner with my husband and smiled at his comments, I could not forget about the boy I had grown to love. Was he safe? Was he only hiding in some out of the way corner of the palace, or was he in the hands of someone who might hurt him?

Mordecai had warned me about the dangers of the palace, and I had heard enough stories to convince me that although threats might be silent and invisible, they were never too far away. Men with power attracted men who
wanted
power, and the axiom also held true for women. But who would be bold and heartless enough to involve an innocent child?

What if one day someone came for
my
child?

The king offered me a sprig laden with plump grapes. “You like
these, my love, yet you have hardly eaten anything tonight. Has something upset you? Some problem with your maids?”

I looked up, grateful he'd noticed my preoccupation but determined not to break my promise to Harbonah. And I did have news to share with him.

“My king.” I slipped from the small couch where I sat and went to kneel at his feet. Resting my head upon his muscular thigh, I held on to his leg and closed my eyes. “I am with child. In time, I hope to bear you a son or daughter.”

I waited with my eyes tightly shut because I could not bear to be disappointed by his reaction. He didn't need another son or daughter, and as far as I knew he didn't want another child. But I would soon have a baby, his baby, and I desperately wanted him to be happy about the idea.

A Sabbath stillness reigned in the chamber, with nothing but the heavy sound of his breathing to disturb it. His broad hand fell upon my head, but I couldn't tell whether he wanted to caress me or crush me.

“My darling little queen,” he finally said, his fingers finding my chin and lifting it upward, “are you happy about this?”

“Oh, yes.” I looked into his eyes and gave him a heartfelt smile. “I've never been happier about anything.”

“Then I am content.” Something that looked like a smile twitched into existence and out again among the curls of his beard. Then he lifted me and held me on his lap. For a long while I sat within the circle of his arms, my face pressed into his neck, his hands on my belly where his child safely grew.

If HaShem would be merciful and grant me the blessing of a son, I silently told myself, I would name the child
Avraham, father of many
.