Jewel of Persia (56 page)

The maid blocked her view again and gave the slightest shake of her head.

Esther drew in a calming breath. It did not quiet the race of her heart, but she schooled her features.

Kasia
.

To the others, Kasia would seem casually deliberate as she looked at each of them in turn, gave each a smile. But the others did not know her as Esther did. Did not realize that she looked at each of them only so that she could meet Esther’s gaze and smile without it seeming strange.

Esther knew. She had to blink back tears, and she knew her smile was shaky. But no one else would see. Only Kasia, whose gaze held all their past, all their secrets, and a whole future of promises.

Who cared if she became the queen? Esther had her sister back.

The Queen Mother stepped forward, her face absent a welcoming smile. “Women come into this palace all the time, but the twelve of you are special. One of you will be queen. With that title comes immense responsibility. You will think it also comes with power, and to an extent that is true. But as your predecessor can attest to, power can be taken away. My son is a fair man and a wise man, but he is done tolerating insubordination from his women.” She angled a grin at Kasia. “With, perhaps, one exception.”

Kasia chuckled. “When I was brought to the palace nearly three years ago, I felt overwhelmed and confused about what would be expected of me. I was blessed to have Queen Atossa take me under her wing. Shortly thereafter I left with the king for the war, and since we returned, I have been a bit occupied with a new baby. But I have been looking forward to extending to others the same advice and welcome I was given.”

Nearly three years . . . then she had come here from the start—but of course, Kish would not have liked that. He must have come up with the other story.

But how had she then gone with the king? Should she not have still been in her preparation when he left?

So many questions.

“Kasia will be speaking with each of you individually over the course of the next few weeks, answering questions and sharing her insight into my son.” The queen mother put a friendly hand on Kasia’s arm.

Kasia grinned. “I will meet with one of you each morning, as Hegai sends you to me. After our initial talk, you may decide whether you want to spend more time with me or if your time would be better spent in other pursuits.”

Esther gripped her skirt. How many meetings could she reasonably ask for without raising suspicions? Perhaps if she made a point of bumbling, she would need instruction each and every day.

As if reading her mind, Kasia glanced her way and seemed to fight down a grin. “And now I shall retire to the back and let the queen mother dispense her wisdom. Afterward, the first of you shall meet with me.”

Oh, praise Jehovah. There was no telling when Hegai would send her, but it hardly mattered. He would at some point.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” Kasia asked quietly, eyes twinkling as she took the chair beside Esther’s.

“Not at all. It is . . .” What was it safe to say, to speak of? “ . . . kind of you to come speak with us.”

“Ah, well.” She nodded to the front, where Atossa launched into an account of the Achamenid kings. “Had the queen mother not extended the same favor to me, I would have been lost. I only had a week’s preparation, you see.”

“A week?” She figured that would shock any of them. “But why?”

“It is a rather romantic story.” Kasia moved her chair a little closer, leaned in. “You see, I was at the river one day with my . . . little sister. We met two Persian men, one of whom gave me a torc. I did not know it then, but it was the king.”

Her stomach flipped. “It was?”

“Mm. He sent his men to my father a few days later, and I was brought here. He knew he would be leaving soon, though, and did not wish to wait until he returned. So after one short week, I went to him.”

“Very romantic.” And terrifying. Would he recognize her? Take one look at her and realize she was Kasia’s “sister”? If so . . . what did the king do to those who lied to his delegates?

But if Kasia feared that, she would not be protecting her identity. She had obviously known Esther was here, perhaps had spoken to Mordecai. For now she would trust. She smiled. “And you just had a baby?”

“A little girl.” Pure contentment flooded her friend’s face.

“Your first?”

Pain shot through the contentment. “The first to make it to term. A story for another day.” She nodded toward the queen. “I ought to stop distracting you. Dull as the history of kings can be, you will need to know it. You may be the next queen.”

The way she said it, so sure, so simple. Esther’s stomach did another cartwheel. It had never occurred to her that she would have an ally, one who apparently had the king’s ear.

Then again, it had never occurred to her that she would have to share a husband with her dearest friend. Somehow, that felt different than sharing him with all these other women.

When had life gotten so complicated?

~*~

“So you were a peasant.” The beautiful young thing across from Kasia blinked her doe-eyes in innocence and gave her a sickeningly sweet smile. “What a change it must have been for you, then. Of course, my father is cousin to the king.”

Naturally that meant Xerxes would drop the crown onto her brow and kiss her feet for good measure. Kasia tried to push her cynicism away, tried to smile at the girl.

What a gem she was. Sweet as nectar . . . left to ferment in the sun. Always knew the right thing to say . . . to belittle whomever she spoke to.

Definitely a daughter of royalty.

Kasia saw no point in prolonging this. Not when she ached to return to little Zillah, who would need fed. “You will have no trouble adjusting to palace life, then. If you have any questions about the king—”

“Oh, I have known him all my life.” She batted those wide eyes of hers. “I suppose that means longer than you have, now that I think of it.”

“Then I shall not bore you with what you already know.” Kasia stood and gave her a tight smile. “Though if you have questions later, I will be happy to answer them.”

“I do hate to bother you, what with that new baby. A daughter, you said?”

Kasia gritted her teeth at the tone. “Indeed. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

She saved the roll of her eyes until she had left the chamber. Hegai grinned and took her arm. “I figured you would want to get that one out of the way, mistress.”

“You could have warned me.” But she chuckled. Largely because she caught a glimpse of Esther, and the joy . . . it was nearly like when she returned to Zillah after time away. That feeling of family, of home. She nodded her way. “The young lady I sat beside seemed very sweet.”

“Esther—my favorite already. You will like her.”

“I am sure. You have excellent taste.”

“Liking you straight away as I did, you mean?” The custodian chuckled and led her out of the house of women, toward the house of wives. “It is good, what you are doing, mistress. Many of them will not heed your council, just as they do not heed mine. But we will know the ones who will, and it is they who have the potential to be the kind of queen Persia needs.”

Her servants fell in around her, and Kasia nodded. “You are right about that. Perhaps you could sprinkle in a few of the receptive ones early on? I am not overly fond of bashing my head into a wall day after day.”

Hegai gave a hearty laugh. Kasia grinned, but her mirth was cut short. Artaynte stood planted in the path.

Kasia patted Hegai’s arm. “I shall have to ask you to give me a minute, my friend.”

The custodian covered her fingers, gave them an encouraging squeeze. “I shall speak to you later, then.”

He headed off on another path. Kasia continued on hers until she was an arm’s span from Artaynte. Her once-friend looked uncomfortable at the best—and that built on the shadowed eyes, the sloped shoulders. Sympathy stirred, but she ignored it.

Artaynte shifted her gaze to the ground. “You look well. I see your figure has returned.”

Kasia blinked. “A year and a half since we last spoke, and that is the first thing you say to me?”

Tears welled in the girl’s eyes. The fact that she made no move to clear them gave Kasia the impression that the brine was a constant companion. “I had no choice in the distance, at first.”

“You always had a choice. I respect obedience, Artaynte, but you must still think for yourself.”

She tucked her chin to her chest. “I tried that with Darius. We all know how that turned out.”

Accusations tripped over one another for a place on her tongue. Kasia held them down. They would accomplish nothing. “I wanted to thank you for tending my son’s grave. For planting the flowers. That meant the world to me.”

A few tears dripped onto Artaynte’s cheeks. “I thought . . . I thought you had already been unfaithful to the king. That was the rumor. I doubted it at first, but then I saw the way Darius paid you attention, and jealousy . . . I began to think, ‘Why would she
not
give herself to him?’ Everyone else thought the same.”

The words burned. “Everyone else did not know me as you did. Everyone else had not spent hours in my wagon with me, chatting and dreaming. You
knew
how I loved Xerxes.” She pressed her hands to her eyes and willed herself to calm down.

Artaynte edged closer. “Please tell me I have not ruined that too. Please. I have already caused so much damage.”

“It can never be the same.” Kasia took a step back. “I know now what you would both stoop to for your jealousy and pride. When I look at either of you, all I see is someone who took deliberate action that you knew would be destructive. Took it
because
it would be destructive. And I want nothing to do with such a person.”

When she tried to step around her, Artaynte latched hold of her arm. “Kasia, please. Can you not see our sides too? His, at least. The king thought Darius had forced himself on you. He thought you had been hurt.”

Kasia drew in a quavering breath. How long had she staved off jealousy? But it still snapped at her, threatened her. Still whispered in her ear that Artaynte taking Xerxes’ part meant things were not as over as they should have been. She breathed a silent plea for help.

Then realization creased her brow. “You still call him ‘the king.’ I have never heard you use his name.”

Artaynte wrapped her arms around her stomach. “He always terrified me.”

“Even now?”

“Especially now.” She offered a weak smile. “You are the only one who calls him by name consistently, Kasia.”

Because she had always thought herself in love with the man, not the king. She had to wonder, now, if she had been wrong to draw a distinction. But that was not to the point in this moment.

After another silent prayer, Kasia gripped Artaynte’s hand. “I appreciate that you want to help relationships heal. You do realize now that nothing ever happened between me and Darius, do you not?”

She nodded. “He explained his feelings, told me what happened that day I saw him kiss you. I explained my heart, my hurt. We are going to try to put everything else aside and build a marriage.”

“Good. That is good.” But as she led Artaynte along the path, she felt certain that some things would always remain rooted between them all. Between husbands and wives, between father and son. Between friends.

She could try to forgive. But it would not change facts.

Forty-Three

Zechariah paced the confines of the small receiving chamber and refused to be intimidated by its wealth. How long had he been waiting for Kasia? It felt like half of forever, but probably only a few minutes.

He had to talk to her. See if she had seen Esther, make sure she was well.

Hurried footsteps sounded seconds before the door swung open. When Kasia stepped in along with a passel of servants, a smile won over his mouth, and he put thoughts of Esther aside for a few minutes. “Kasia.”

“Zech.” She flew through the room and into his arms, but he still had time enough to note how little she had changed. Her face had a few more angles, her hair seemed a little different. Certainly, she wore finer clothing than she ever had at home, and a simple gold rope around her neck. But none of the audacity of the rest of the palace.

He swung her around and gave her a mighty squeeze. “I missed you, little sister.”

“I missed you too, big brother. And I mean
big
.” She laughed and rested her hands against his biceps. “You are hulking. Did you get taller?”

“Or else you shrank.”

She gave him a playful punch, then another squeeze of a hug. “Did Mordecai talk to Abba?”

“He tried, but you know Abba. I promised Ima I would sneak her over if it came down to it, though. She wants to meet this granddaughter of hers. When Mordecai said you named her after her . . .”