CHAPTER
Twenty-two

Xerxes gazed at Esther as she slept, marveling at the way her expression held such peace, her dark hair splayed over the pristine white cushion beneath her head. He had found not a single flaw in her and had quickly concluded that she surpassed even Vashti in beauty.

He released a deep, contented sigh as he shifted slightly on one elbow. Esther stirred and opened her eyes to meet his gaze. Her smile, slow and appreciative, caused a greater sense of protectiveness to rise within him. Did she love him? Could she love him? Without doubt he loved her. She had pleased him like no other.

“You are awake,” he said, surprised at the huskiness in his voice. What was this new feeling of exuberant joy? He was not one to grow flustered like this. Never like this. But Esther . . . he could not stop the need to touch his lips to hers.

“I find you have tempted me beyond reason,” he said when he felt confident that his voice would not again betray him.

She wrapped both arms around his neck and pulled him closer. “I am glad,” she whispered against his ear. “If I were not a temptation, you might not find me pleasing.” She kissed him, this time not waiting for him to take the lead as she had the night before.

He laughed when she pulled away, and they both caught their breath. “How bold my queen has become!” He drew her closer. “It is a good thing that I am king. We can take a week, a month, however long we wish, to be together.” He brushed a length of hair behind her ear. “Does that please you, my love?”

She cupped his stubbled cheek. “Very much, my king.”

“I will know we have made progress when you call me Xerxes without fear.” He sat up and helped her to rise. “Let us see what they have set for us to break our fast.”

They soon settled at a large table near the window, where he had fed her the night he thought he could claim her as he had every other concubine. But that night had changed him forever.

“Today I will show you the rooms that will be yours as queen. They are not yet ready, so you will stay with me until they are. Does this please you?” He could send her to the second harem, but then Amestris would lord it over her that she had separate apartments while Esther, his queen, did not. He would not allow Amestris to gloat over this woman. Not now. Not ever.

“That would please me very much . . . Xerxes. I am anxious to see what you have prepared for me, but I am grateful for every moment we can spend together.” She took a date and kissed it before offering it to him.

He bit into it and then bent to kiss her again. This woman never ceased to amaze him. How bold she had become for one so young, and yet so graceful and even obedient. Not like Amestris or Vashti. She captured his imagination in ways he did not understand.

“Tell me, my love, more about yourself. I know nothing of your past other than that your parents are dead and Mordecai adopted you.” He leaned one elbow on the table and gazed into her eyes.

Esther picked a piece of goat cheese from her plate and held it in her fingers. She looked at him, her dark eyes somber. “My past is filled with joy and sadness. I do not wish to sadden you, my lord.”

He took her hand. “I want to know you, Esther. Whatever saddens you matters to me. Whatever brings you joy, better still.” Had he ever asked such questions of Vashti? What had happened to make him so enamored with this woman?

She searched his gaze and squeezed his hand. “All right. As you know, my father died before I was born, and my mother shortly after my birth. Mordecai, my cousin, was married to Levia and they had three sons, so adding me as their daughter seemed not only right but a perfect fit to their family. Mordecai has been the only father I have ever known. Levia was like a mother to me.”

“Was?” He caught the slight change in her expression as she spoke of the woman.

“She passed on shortly before I was brought to the palace.”

“So Mordecai lost you and his wife close together.”

“Yes. Though he still has his sons, they are married with children, so he lives alone now. This is why I try to look out for him when it is possible . . . if it is possible.” Her eyes held a glint of wariness.

“Of course it is possible. Your father will never need to fear in my kingdom. He will be under my protection for your sake.” She set the cheese aside, and he took both of her hands in his. “You are close to these cousins, Mordecai’s children?”

She shrugged. “Yes, we were as children. But they are much older. I did not see them often.”

He nodded. He would have to make sure her family was cared for and protected.

“Are you ready to visit those rooms?” He pulled her to her feet.

“I would like to change my clothes first. Unless we should walk about the palace in our night robes.” She laughed, a delightful sound.

He joined her. Somehow the way she spoke never embarrassed him, even if he should have thought of her suggestion first. “Wear that blue and purple robe I like. The one trimmed in gold.”

“The one I wore the first time? With the same tunic?” Her cheeks held the most becoming blush of color.

He drew her close and kissed her forehead. “Yes. What else did you think we were going to do during our wedding week . . . or month?”

Her smile turned coy. “I will do my best, my king.”

He chuckled. She was toying with him, and he loved her for it even more. She had bewitched him, this dark-eyed beauty with no parents and no lineage. His mother was probably apoplectic by now, considering how upset she had been that Vashti was not a full-blooded Persian. And now he had placed a woman with no obvious past in Vashti’s place, above his mother’s pick of a pure-blooded Persian.

He moved to his dressing chamber, smiling as he went. Anything he could do to thwart the plans of his mother and Amestris suited him just fine. And Esther was the perfect person for that role.

Amestris paced Atossa’s chambers while her sons, Darius II and Artaxerxes, played quietly in an adjacent chamber, watched over by one of their maids.

“You are going to wear out the rug, my dear. Please, sit.” Atossa crossed one leg over the other and folded her hands over her knees. “I know this marriage upsets you, but stop fretting. Xerxes will grow tired of the girl in time, and your sons are still heirs to the throne. Don’t let a simple peasant girl destroy all that we have built.”

Amestris sat opposite her mother-in-law, but she could not stop fidgeting. She twisted the rings on her fingers. “He should never have held that contest. And I should have done more to stop it. To stop Hegai from helping Esther.” She stood again, unable to sit. “Did you see that he didn’t even have her cover her face at the banquet? She willingly allowed herself to be dressed in such a way that everyone could see her beauty—exactly what he had asked of Vashti, which she rightly refused—and this unknown nobody allows the world to gaze on her face? If she were of Persian birth, she would know the customs. She would have insisted on a screen to separate her from the guests. Xerxes should not have allowed the people to see his bride.” She slumped into the chair again. “Instead, he displayed her for all to see, even placing the crown on her head? Himself? It’s an outrage!” Her voice rose on the last syllable.

Atossa held up a hand for quiet. “You’re going to alarm the servants. Hush now, my dear.”

“You agree with him?” Amestris’s eyes widened. Did her mother-in-law actually like the girl?

Atossa shook her head. “No, of course not. But Xerxes has never been the same since Vashti’s loss. I should have known that he could never follow through with a law that would take her from him without consequence. He loved her from his youth.”

“And what am I? Just an added necessity to give him sons born after he wore the crown?” She glanced toward the chamber where the boys made fighting noises as if they were in battle with an enemy. Perhaps they were. At least that’s how she felt.

“If Esther bears a child, what then?” The thought had caused her to lose more than one night’s sleep.

Atossa lifted one shoulder in a slight shrug. “So she bears him children. It will not affect Darius’s claim to the throne. He is the heir. Artaxerxes is the second if something ever happens to his brother. You have nothing to fear.”

“I have everything to fear. I should be queen. I always should have been queen. Instead I have to contend with her.” She could not bear to say the girl’s name aloud. Star. Her husband had fallen in love with a beautiful young girl with a celestial name, so how was she supposed to compete with that?

“You have nothing to fear, Amestris.” Atossa seemed to be growing weary of the conversation. “In time my son will find his new wife less than attractive. Or he will discover something about her he cannot abide. Or he will find a different concubine to fill his appetite for all things new. He is rarely satisfied for long.”

Amestris released a frustrated sigh. This visit had profited her nothing. Atossa was no help. She had come hoping for suggestions, for ways to unseat Esther from Xerxes’ grasp and take her place. But she did not know how to do that. She had spent plenty of time with him, long enough to conceive his children, but he had rarely spoken to her since Vashti’s loss. He had flatly refused her suggestions that she would make him proud as queen in Vashti’s place.

Perhaps she had acted too soon when she’d made that plea with him. What if he had figured out that she had conspired with Memucan to rid him of Vashti? She felt the color drain from her face. He had deposed Memucan but allowed her to stay. Why couldn’t she be satisfied with that?

But it wasn’t enough. It was never enough. And the longer she thought on it, even after she left Atossa and took her boys back to her apartments, she knew she could not continue to live this way. Xerxes had done her wrong by ignoring her wishes. He had no business placing a young woman with no royal heritage on the throne that rightfully belonged to her.

Anger brewed within her chest, a fire burning hot. Whatever love she’d had for Xerxes had fled long ago. But she had never considered herself capable of hating him.

Did she hate him? Hate was such a strong feeling.

As the sun set over Susa and she lay alone upon her bed, she did not see the opulence around her or the privileges she held over most of the king’s women. She only saw him looking at Esther instead of her. Crowning Esther queen in her place. Loving Esther as he should have loved her.

Someday she would find a way to make him pay for what he had done to her, to her sons. Kings were not immune to disasters. And once Darius was old enough to rule in his place—or sooner if she had her way—she would destroy the things Xerxes held so dear. Perhaps even take his life.

That thought made her sit straight up in bed. No. She was not one to go that far. But the seed remained planted in her mind as sleep eluded her for yet another miserable night.