Chapter Twenty-Two
Hadassah

AS GIRLS, PARYSATIS AND I HAD OFTEN REMARKED about the discernible difference in the city’s atmosphere when the king was away from his palace. We groaned about how boring and dull Susa was without him, but that difference was magnified a hundredfold when one lived in the royal fortress. When I entered the palace, the harem buzzed with activity, and every slave walked with a brisk step, never lingering for more than a moment in any one spot. But once the king and his household departed, an air of somnolence descended over the place.

Those of us who had been gathered into the complex reserved for virgins grew sluggish and lazy in the heat. We were still fed choice foods (Artystone claimed the eunuchs were fattening us like lambs for the slaughter) and given our beauty treatments: each morning we bathed in waters laced with myrrh, and each evening our handmaids massaged perfumed oils into our skin. I had already begun to notice the difference—when I removed my tunic each night, the fabric smelled of sweet flowers.

In the more relaxed atmosphere of the hot summer, we were allowed to sleep until we woke naturally, and nap in the late afternoons. I spent long hours lying in my chamber, staring at the painted ceiling and wondering how I had come to be in that place. I certainly had no choice in the matter, but what choices did any woman have in her life? Whether we were betrothed and married to friends of the family or sold into slavery or sent to a king’s palace, what did it matter? We had no control over our fate.

Yet we were not the only powerless beings in the palace. One afternoon I stood at the gate to our building and saw a line of shackled boys arriving with a caravan. Stick thin, barely clad, covered in scabs and grime, they stood silently, the fight gone out of them. These lads, the oldest of whom was probably no more than ten or eleven, were directed to another building where they would live until ready to serve the king.

I looked over and caught Hegai’s eye—he had seen the boys, too. “Will they be slaves?” I asked.

Hegai opened his mouth to speak, then clamped his mouth shut and nodded.

“Will they be eunuchs?” I asked, more carefully.

Hegai turned away, but a moment later he turned toward me again. His eyes brimmed with tears as he answered: “Y-y-yes. They will be c-c-castrated within the week.”

I gave him what I hoped was a sympathetic smile and reconsidered my fate. The king controlled everything in the palace, including our right to lie with a man we loved and create children. We virgins were not the only people who’d had the king’s will forced upon us, but I felt far more fortunate than those captive boys.

With the king away, Hegai allowed us to wander throughout the fortress so long as we promised not to draw attention to ourselves. Like surreptitious ghosts we slipped out of the harem at night to tiptoe over the marble floors and stare at the towering columns, marveling at their colorful designs. I ran my fingers over glazed tiles arranged into intricate figures of lions and horses and marveled at the luxury of my king’s palace.

I had never seen such beautiful images, not even in Parysatis’s home. Mordecai and Miriam had simple tastes and bare walls, but amazing art covered nearly every object in the palace. Walls, ceilings, columns, floors—colors blazed from every surface and shone in the slanting rays of the sun. Fountains bubbled up in the most unexpected locations, and the shrubs in the garden hung low with huge blossoms. I loved walking in the garden adjacent to the apadana and breathing in the scents of so many flowers. A shame, really, that the king chose to be away during the most beautiful growing season.

Sometimes I felt almost guilty for being so pampered. Mordecai talked as though I were being held prisoner, and while I was not free to leave the royal palace, no one asked me to do anything but submit to my lessons, ointments, and garment fittings.

When we weren’t eating, resting, or exploring, we attended lessons under Hegai. The little eunuch did not seem to enjoy speaking about intimate topics, but he had grown up in the harem and knew everything we would need to learn.

Such as how to walk so that our hips swayed from side to side. “Like a b-b-beguiling pendulum,” he said, waving a silk scarf back and forth like a cattail blowing in the wind. “The king’s view of your backside should be gr-gr-graceful and f-f-feminine, hypnotic.”

His advice confused me. When we were summoned to the king’s chamber, weren’t we supposed to immediately prostrate ourselves? And when he dismissed us, weren’t we supposed to back out of the room, head down, eyes averted, until the guards closed the door? If so, how would the king ever have an opportunity to glimpse anyone’s backside?

I wanted to ask my question aloud, but Hegai had said nothing about the span of time between our entrance and our exit, so perhaps some occasion in the gap might require walking away from the king. If he took one look at my face and pronounced me unattractive, perhaps I might be allowed to turn and slink away from his harsh disapproval . . . or maybe not.

An Ionian beauty fluttered her fingers to catch Hegai’s attention. “What are we supposed to do with the king other than . . .” She rolled her eyes in a coy gesture and tugged at her long hair. “Are we supposed to talk to him?”

“And what would you t-t-talk about?” Hegai shook his head. “Would you tell him how to run the k-k-kingdom? Would you give him advice on the r-r-royal children?”

Obviously sensing Hegai’s discomfort, another eunuch stepped up to finish the answer. “You forget, girl, that you will be talking to the most powerful man in the world. You could not possibly say anything he would find interesting or useful, so keep your lovely lips clamped together. You are there to please him. If he wants music, play the harp. If he wants song, sing for him. If he wants to be touched, touch him as he directs. But do not talk to him. The royal ear must not be distracted or disturbed by one so young, and a female at that.”

I cocked an eyebrow, annoyed by the eunuch’s advice. Mordecai was a wise man of some importance, yet he had never hesitated to talk with me. He had listened respectfully to my thoughts even when he considered them foolish, and then he had asked questions to make me think more deeply about my opinions. Though sometimes he talked about concepts and beliefs I didn’t understand, he had never told me to be quiet or shamed me for my ignorance.

Perhaps the king would like to know about the homes from whence we had come, or the plans we had made before his summons interrupted our lives.

I looked around the airy chamber and saw young girls from all over the Persian Empire. None of us had ever been in a situation even remotely like this, but under Hegai’s tutelage we had formed a bond. Nearly all of us had come to believe that our situation, though not of our choosing, was a step up in the world. If the king had not decided to choose another queen, we would probably be married to whomever our fathers chose. We would be eking out an existence far more difficult than the one we enjoyed in the harem. To the world we were anonymous females, but we knew each other.

And in our hearts we cherished one unspoken hope: that the king would remember our names.

One afternoon Hegai plucked my sleeve and pulled me from a group of girls who were painting one another’s faces. Artystone had applied cosmetics only to the right side of my face, and Hegai blinked at me in confusion until I picked up a towel and scrubbed some of the powdered malachite from my eyelids. “Sorry,” I said, blushing. “We didn’t think we’d be interrupted.”

Instead of answering, Hegai took a half step back and looked me over, his bright eyes drinking me in from head to toe. “G-g-good,” he said, more to himself than to me. “Even with the messy c-c-cosmetics, g-g-good.”

I squinted at him, unable to understand what he meant. “May I do something for you, Hegai?”

For the first time that day, he lifted his head and looked directly into my eyes. “The k-k-king is returning early this year.”

My stomach tightened. “He’s coming soon?”

“Advance r-r-riders arrived this morning, s-s-so we expect the king within days.”

An invisible cord pulled my shoulder blades together. “You don’t have to remind me to be more circumspect when the king is in residence. I know we won’t be able to leave the harem.”

“Not here to r-r-remind you.” An odd look settled over Hegai’s face. “I want you to see H-H-Humusi. Today.”

I turned to look at Artystone, but she had quietly slipped away. “I don’t believe I’ve met anyone by that name.”

Hegai shook his head. “Sh-sh-she lives in the palace of the c-c-concubines. She belonged to the present king’s f-f-father.”

Though she had outlived her master, she would reside in the harem until she died. I pressed my lips together, aware that my destiny had just unfolded before my eyes. Hegai might as well have said, And you, Esther, will languish with Humusi until you shrivel up and waste away. . . .

A lump rose in my throat. Did Hegai think me so unlikely to please the king that he would send me to live with the concubines now? Was this his way of preparing me for rejection?

Did he know I secretly dreamed of wearing a crown?

I swallowed hard. “Are you sending me to live in the house of the concubines?”

The little man’s face rippled with anguish. “By all the g-g-gods, you misunderstand. I am sending you to H-H-Humusi because she knows what a w-w-woman must do to please a man.” A furious blush glowed on the little eunuch’s cheekbones. “She knows things I will never know. B-b-but you need to know them, t-t-too.”

I lowered my gaze, embarrassed for both of us.

“I have asked H-H-Humusi to meet you in the harem garden. Your time is coming.”

“My time?” I asked even though my racing blood had already intuited the answer.

“I want you to entertain the k-k-king on his first night at h-h-home.”

After repairing my makeup, I went at once to find the old concubine, my head filling with imaginings as I walked. Would she be beautiful or an ancient crone? Would she be slender, or would she have grown fat after a lifetime of luxury and fine foods?

I hurried through the columned hallway, feeling small as I slipped from shadow to shadow. The harem garden lay beyond the hallway, and I could see a blur of green in the distance. I smiled as I kept my steps to a steady pace. Though I had spent hours in the room where Hegai taught his lessons, all my most important communications had taken place in the garden. I spoke with Mordecai in the garden. When Harbonah wished to give me an important message, he always guided me to the garden, where we could speak more freely than in the enclosed spaces of the harem. And now an old woman would teach me about men . . . in the garden.

A chorus of twittering birds heralded my entrance to the rectangular space, but in scanning the shrubs, fountains, and trees I saw no woman, aged or otherwise. I walked slowly over the north-south pathway, not wanting to startle one so advanced in years, and passed several tall cypress trees without glimpsing anyone. A rectangular pool, reflecting the sky like a silver mirror, lay parallel to the path I walked.

As I neared the three-quarter point of the path, I came upon the pavilion at the intersection of the east-west walkway. Beneath the shelter of the gleaming structure, I saw a woman wreathed in colorful veils. She wore a long garment that covered her arms, and a sheer veil concealed her face. Her hands rested upon a carved walking stick, and though she must have heard my approach, she did not look in my direction.

I stepped closer. “Be well . . . Humusi?”

Slowly, she turned her head, and through the sheer veil I saw a flash of the same head-to-toe glance Hegai had given me earlier. “You must be Esther.”

“I am.”

“Sit, please.” She nodded at the open space on the curved bench. I sank gratefully onto it, hoping this interview would be quick and to the point.

“Go ahead.” She lifted her veil. “Look me over and tell me what you see.”

I had not wanted to stare, but I was curious about what the years ahead held for an aging concubine. Grateful for the frank and open invitation, I studied her, knowing that I might well be looking into my future.

I was startled to realize that the woman could not yet be forty. Laugh lines radiated from the corners of her dark eyes like cracks, and her teeth, even and white, contrasted beautifully with her olive skin. Traces of humor lay around her mouth, and wisdom shone in the eyes that smiled at me.

Darius’s favorite concubine was still a remarkably beautiful woman.

“Hegai has high hopes for you,” she said, her eyes sparkling with spirit.

I lowered my head, uncomfortable with the compliment. “I will try to please him, but I can only do what I can do. Either the king will like me or he won’t.”

“And that’s where you are wrong, my child.” She leaned toward me and looked up into my eyes. “I have seen many beautiful girls come into the harem, yet the king forgets most of them by the next morning. Women are different in many ways, but basically we are the same: we have two arms, two legs, two breasts, two eyes, two lips, two ears. We are a vessel for a man’s pleasure and a nest for his unborn children. But if you would be called into the king’s presence a second and a third time, you must be a shelter for the king’s heart.”

I stared in silence, stunned by her words. From Hegai’s manner I had expected a lesson on how to give a man physical pleasure, but Humusi was talking about a man’s heart. I wanted to believe my king had a noble and generous heart, but Babar had not thought so. . . .

“I do not think,” I said, stammering, “that a powerful king, a man full grown, will want to entrust his heart to one so young.”

“And since when do you know so much about kings?” She laughed softly, her eyes dancing inside her veil. “When the king is alone with you he will be, at times, a man, a boy, and a baby. He will be at his most vulnerable with you if he trusts you, and if you would love him well, you will teach him to trust you.” She smiled, and her gaze drifted off to some invisible territory I could not even imagine. “I have never met the son, but I knew the father, and I have seen him weep when hurt. But I never spoke of his tears until today, and I only speak of them now because Hegai believes you are special.”

My heart pounded as her lips curved in a rueful smile. “When you go to the king, do whatever he asks, but never forget that he is a powerful man, and men who command others need a woman to admire and respect them. So listen, little Esther, and hear what is on his heart. Hold it securely and do not share it with anyone. And then, if you can find it in your heart to do so, love him for the man he is and the man he could be. Expect greatness of him. And then, perhaps, he will find it in himself.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Love him anyway.”

Grateful for this surprising advice, I smiled at her and kissed her on the cheek. “I do not know what will happen when I go to the king. But I promise I will not forget what you have shared with me today.”