“She did not recognize her own king?” Haman snorted. “I assumed she knew.”
“Or wanted her to be in as much discomfort as possible? My friend, your distaste for her people is too consuming.”
Haman looked none too concerned at the rebuke. “They are a race of slaves.”
“As is your own. How grateful you should be, then, that your king is one who grants grace to the peoples he conquers. Hmm?”
“I am most grateful, master. It is the Jews who refuse to acknowledge your power and might.”
Masistes laughed and slapped a hand to Haman’s shoulder. “You will never convince him, my lord. And I must say, I too wonder how she could not recognize you.”
“I daresay she did not expect the king to be riding with only one attendant—she would not have seen my eunuchs. And since Haman did not make it clear and Hegai had assumed it was you Haman rode with . . .”
Haman attempted to fight back a grin. He failed. “Fascinating. Masistes, your brother’s new wife thought herself in love with you and yet forced to marry another.”
Darius shook his head. “What a terrible week she must have spent.”
Haman rolled his eyes. “It serves the girl right for her shameless conduct.”
“Shameless? She is shameless for trying to talk her way out of a situation she considered dangerous?” A familiar heat thrummed to life in Xerxes’ chest, pushing him to his feet. “Whatever your opinion of her and her people, Haman, you will do well to remember that she is now my wife.”
One thing must be said for Haman—he always knew when to back away before Xerxes’ temper could flare too hot. “Of course, master. I am glad you have found some entertainment with the girl.”
Masistes took a step away. “Well, I am intrigued. I say we visit the women, flatter the queen, and get a glimpse of my brother’s newest paramour. What say you, my lord?”
Xerxes grinned and fell in beside his brother. “The queen could use some flattering. Let us go.”
He had not paid a visit to the women’s palace in several weeks, but he was not surprised to find the gardens flourishing, the adornments shining. The younger of his children ran about, darting this way and that, though the older ones were at their studies. He kept a close eye on all his sons’ progress—some of them would be generals, other satraps, governors. All must learn to bear the burden of responsibility.
His gaze raked over the women that were out of their rooms. A few sat at looms, others stitched, some fastened gold decorations onto their clothing. Still more, Amestris among them, merely sat. Usually she made it a point to outdo the others and produce the loveliest garments for him, herself, and their four children. But she was not exactly a young woman anymore . . . perhaps carrying this child was harder on her than he knew, especially with the added stress of this week’s feast. He ought to arrange for a special gift for her. If he were lucky, it would deflect her irritation over “the wench young enough to be his daughter.”
Kasia he saw nowhere. It took a moment for the expectant spike in his pulse to smooth back down to normal.
After pausing to greet each child and its mother he finally reached Amestris and gave her a smile. “There you are, my queen. The child in your womb must be blessed indeed, for you are lovelier today than ever.”
Amestris turned her eyes up. They were a perfect almond shape, the color of a round of amber. But the only spark to light them these days was of irritation. Her temperament had worsened when she became queen. It seemed power fed her discontent.
Her smile, if insincere, was nonetheless stunning. “How kind of you to visit me. Unless it was another of your wives you came to see?”
Yes, there was that spark that could so quickly be fanned into a dangerous hatred. Xerxes grinned into it. “Naturally I must pay my respects to the group, but seeking you was my primary goal. Is it not so, Darius?”
His son smiled guilelessly. “The moment I told him you were not feeling well this morning, he hastened to see you.”
She looked far from appeased. “The others are muttering about this Jewess. Why must the king shame us by adding a slave to our numbers? One the very age of his esteemed daughter?”
It was all he could do not to roll his eyes. His brides were always within a certain age group. Could he help that his eldest daughter was now of marrying age as well? “I assure you, Amestris, all I do is out of concern for you. Have you not made it clear I am to find my entertainment elsewhere when you are with child?” Or with a mild ache in her head. Or a sore toe. Or in a sour temper. Or sometimes, he suspected, if her hair would not lie just so. Between all her complaints, she would not receive him three hundred sixty of the three hundred sixty-five days a year.
Amestris settled her arms over the protruding round of her stomach and scowled. “Is she pretty?”
“Pretty enough. Not so beautiful as you.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
The tension around her mouth softened. “I am ready to deliver this babe and present you with another son, that is all. This new girl—is she a full wife or a concubine?”
“Uh . . .” He straightened and glanced to Haman.
Haman arched a brow. “Her father had no money for a dowry, master, so she received the lesser contract.”
Amestris’s lips turned up. “Very well. Enjoy her while she holds your attention. And see that she is cautioned to stay out of my way. I am in no mood for the airs of an upstart concubine who knows not her place.”
“Of course.” He stepped back, giving the others a chance to smother her with flattery. His eyes tracked over the courtyard again.
Hegai stood in the corner—if anyone knew where Kasia would be, it was the custodian. He moved toward him.
Hegai bent low in greeting. “My king. We are honored to welcome you this morning.”
“Certainly. I was very pleased with Kasia. You did well with her.”
The servant smiled, his eyes bright. “Thank you, master. The young lady was very open to my advice, so I took pleasure in sharing your preferences. She is a lovely girl. A disposition unlike any of your other wives.”
“Indeed. Is she settling in well?”
Hegai’s smile curled into a grin. “You may want to see for yourself. She is in the back garden.”
Since his companions said their farewells to the queen, he motioned them to join him. “We will do that. She selected her room?”
“Yes, master.” Humor laced his tone.
Xerxes lifted a brow. “Let me guess—the smallest, barest one she could find.”
Hegai chuckled. “You know her well for so short an acquaintance.”
Darius, Masistes, and Haman drew near, so Xerxes only nodded and led the way down the hall that would open into the rear gardens. He stopped them just inside the door.
Amidst the trumpeting blooms and trees stretching toward heaven, a gaggle of tots sat entranced around a cross-legged Kasia. Though the eldest of the children could not be more than four, they all held still, faces intent upon her. And she sang. Hebrew, but he needed no vocabulary lesson to understand the playful tone. Her voice clear and sweet, she moved her hands in a dance of movement. When she tapped each child on the nose in turn, a chorus of giggles broke out.
Finding a woman who had a way with children was no great thing. But finding one whose face betrayed total delight as she lifted her voice? One who laughed along with them as if there were no greater