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Cassia
Cassia entered the cooking room a short time after the midday meal had been cleaned up. She smiled at one of the serving ladies, then proceeded to check on the straining honey. She was pleased to see that the honeycombs were quite bare, and there was enough honey in the jar to make a few desserts. The servant knew not to touch the honey, that it was Cassia's project.
The past few days had been a blur. Spending so much time with Ilana and her brother, Nehem, helped Cassia forget about Alma the Younger. But not completely. Each time she remembered his visit to her room, her breath caught. Though the light had temporarily faded from his eyes, she knew her former best friend was still inside that man somewhere. She'd found herself praying more than once that he'd see the error of his ways, he'd return to his family, and all would be well again.
And what had he been about to ask her? The fact that he went back into the beehive yard and risked getting bitten to retrieve the honeycomb proved he still cared for her. Didn't it?
It had been years since her father's initial rejection of her suggestion of marrying Alma. Perhaps enough time had passed that her father might change his mind. Cassia's heart felt even heavier—with Alma's recent actions, she doubted her father would be any more lenient.
Besides, she'd seen her father's reaction to Nehem—they seemed to be very compatible. Of course it was easy for the king to be fond of Nehem; it seemed everyone was. He was all heart and was very vocal about his faith and his support of the king. A great deal of his time was spent mediating between Church members and the unbelievers.
Nehem also declared his feelings without reservation, almost as soon as he thought them. His sister, Ilana, tried to keep him subdued as much as possible, but Nehem was not to be deterred. Cassia found it quite amazing, but in truth, she was growing a little suspicious of his motives. Alma had warned her, and now her older brothers, Ammon and Aaron, seemed aloof around Nehem. But they had given her no reason why.
She poured amaranth seeds from a grain sack into a bowl coated with animal fat. Then she stirred the honey in until it reached a sticky consistency. She quickly poured the mixture onto a tray, wet her hands, and patted it flat. Within an hour, she could cut the treat into squares.
"There you are!"
Cassia looked up to see Ilana and her brother standing at the back entrance that led to the gardens.
"We were looking for someone to walk with us," Ilana said.
Nehem gave a short bow, a broad grin on his pale face.
"Let me clean my hands."
"Cooking?" Nehem said.
"I made a honey treat, but it has to sit for a while."
She washed her hands in the basin of water that had been changed out after the dishes were done. Stepping into the sunshine, she noticed Nehem move deliberately to her side. Ilana linked arms with her immediately.
"Show us where the beehives are," Nehem said. "We employ a few beekeepers at our home as well." He moved closer to Cassia and put his arm through her other one.
She didn't know what to think at first. She glanced over at Ilana, but her sister-in-law kept her eyes focused ahead. "How many hives do you have?"
Nehem answered. "Sx. One of them has been failing, though."
"Oh?" Cassia said. She half-listened to Nehem's description of what the beekeepers had done to encourage more bees to populate the hives. When they approached the bee yard, anxiety rose in her chest. She didn't know whether it was from the attack or because the memories of arguing with Alma came flooding back.
"Cassia?" Nehem said.
She shook her thoughts away and focused once again on him, giving him a small smile.
"I'd love to show you around my home some time," he said.
She nodded, recalling what she knew of Ilana and Nehem's home. It was an elegant structure, though not as large as the palace, of course. But their father, Limhi, was a former king. In Zarahemla, he was a member of her father's cabinet, and he served as a priest. In fact, he had been Alma the Younger's mentor when he first learned to become a scribe. There. She was thinking about Alma again. No, worrying about him.
She hesitated at the gate leading to the bee yard.
"Let's not go in," Ilana said, pulling back a little.
My thoughts as well, Cassia realized.
"We don't have to go in," Nehem said with a chuckle.
Ilana released Cassia's arm and walked away from her and Nehem. "I'm going to fetch my shawl," Ilana said.
Cassia watched her go, and suddenly she was alone with Nehem—and feeling nervous. She casually withdrew from his arm and wandered over to a low bench near where she and Alma had argued.
Nehem was right behind her. "What do you think, Cassia?"
She turned to face him. "about what?"
"about coming to my home?"
His skin seemed especially fair this morning, she thought. She couldn't help but compare him to Alma. Nehem was light, where Alma was dark. "To see the bees?" she asked.
A smile touched Nehem's face. "yes, and anything else you want to see as well."
"Perhaps, if my parents allow it."
The amusement in his eyes fled, and he looked serious. Taking her hand, he said, "I'm sure they will be more than pleased."
He raised her hand to his lips, but before he could kiss her hand, Cassia pulled it away. Her heart was pounding, worried about what exactly Nehem meant. Would going to see his home turn out to be more than a social visit?
Then his hand brushed her cheek, and she jerked back.
"Sorry," Nehem said, his eyes intent on hers. "It's just that you're so beautiful." He shook his head, and his expression softened. "Do you realize how beautiful you are, Cassia?"
She stared at him, wondering if he was speaking only to flatter, or if he really meant his words. "I—I don't know."
He laughed. "Of course you don't. That's what makes you even more exquisite."
Cassia reddened, wishing Ilana would come back—and quickly. "I'm not very good at this sort of thing . . ." She looked away and took another step back.
"What sort of thing?" Nehem moved slightly closer, watching her.
"I—you speaking such flattering words."
"I'm not trying to flatter or impress you," Nehem said, his eyes widening slightly. "I'm only speaking the truth of what I feel inside . . .here." His hand went to his chest as if to emphasize his words.
"I can't believe I'm really as beautiful as you claim I am." She clasped her hands together, keeping her eyes adverted.
Nehem took another step forward. "One thing I'd never do is tell a lie," he said, his voice low and serious. "You are beautiful, though I suppose there are many pretty faces around Zarahemla. But you are much more than that. You are kind and charming. You've been a friend to my sister, and you welcomed me with no reserve. You have many talents . . ."
Cassia found herself being drawn in, swept up in his compliments. She didn't know Nehem very well, but he was the son of a former king, the brother of her future sister-in-law whom she'd come to be such dear friends with.
"You don't know the effect you have on me," Nehem continued in a quiet voice. "And I plan to make that known soon."
"What do you mean?" Cassia asked, feeling her face heat up.
Nehem reached for her hand just as Ilana came into view. Cassia moved away as Ilana approached, a knowing smile on her face.
"Should we see if the honeyed treats are ready?" Ilana asked.
Cassia nodded, grateful for Ilana's distraction. Her heart still pounded to think of what Nehem was about to say. It wasn't that she didn't like him. He was very nice, and of course, flattering. He certainly seemed to like her. But she knew very little of men outside her family.
The three of them walked back to the palace and entered the cooking room. Ilana and Nehem chatted about what was growing in the garden while Cassia cut up the amaranth bars. She hid a smile, wondering what other man besides Nehem would have so much to say about a garden. Certainly not Alma.
"Try one and see if you like them," Cassia said, holding a bar out to Nehem and Ilana.
They bit in and exclaimed that they were excellent. "The honey is very sweet," Nehem said. "Your keepers have raised healthy bees."
Cassia shrugged at the compliment. "I'll prepare the rest then join both of you later."
Nehem furrowed his brow slightly, but his good humor remained, and he offered a bow. "Until later then."
With the brother and sister gone, Cassia felt relieved. She couldn't really explain why. They were both friends now—entertaining as well. But it was as if they were guiding her to think the way they thought and do the things they enjoyed. She didn't think she'd ever spent so much time in the gardens, just walking and talking, as she had until Ilana arrived. Cassia had neglected her cooking far too long.
As she finished cutting and wrapping the bars in thin sassafras leaves, she started thinking of Alma again, wondering if her brothers might know where he was staying. She decided that if she had the chance to speak with him again, she might be able to convince him to return to his family. And it wouldn't hurt to bring him some honeyed treats either.
She hurried out of the cooking room, several wrapped bars in her hands, and made her way to the side courtyard. She was sure to find Ammon somewhere in the vicinity. He spent any free time he had shooting targets.
She was disappointed to see Himni and Omner at the targets. "Where's Ammon?"
They both turned, and Cassia was surprised to see how unkempt they looked—as if they'd been awake all night. A guilty glance between them told her they were hiding something.
Omner shrugged and turned away, aiming his bow again at the tied bundle of maize stalks a couple of dozen paces away.
"Himni?" Cassia challenged. "What's going on?"
"He—he didn't come home last night," he said, then ducked his head.
"Don't tell her anything else," Omner whispered to Himni, keeping his back to her.
"Tell me—or I'll tell Father you were both out all night too."
Omner whipped around. "How did you know?"
Cassia kept a straight face. "I know a lot of things that might surprise you."
Another guilty glance between the brothers, then Omner said, "He's with Alma."
"And Aaron?"
"Aaron didn't come home either," Himni blurted out. "Maybe he was with Ilana."
Omner laughed, then immediately looked contrite.
"Where does Alma live?" Cassia asked.
Silence.
"You'll be in more trouble if you don't tell me."
"He lives at the top of the first hill outside of the city. It's the ugliest hut I've ever seen," Omner said.
"Yeah," Himni echoed. "you can't miss the place. The door looks like it was burned off, then reattached."
Cassia wrinkled her nose. "Thank you. Anything else I need to know?"
They started to elbow each other, but both shook their heads adamantly.
Cassia turned away from them, her pulse drumming. Did she dare? she didn't. But as she walked back to the cooking room, she realized how easy it would be to leave while everyone was busy. She could wear one of the servants' mantles and put on some old sandals. Maybe away from everything—from the palace and the temple—Alma would tell her what was really going on, and she could convince him to return.
"Oh, my dear, there you are," a voice said as soon as she entered the cooking room.
Her mother stood in the doorway. "Ilana said we might find you here."
We? No one else was with her mother, but for some inexplicable reason, Cassia's hands started to sweat. She set the wrapped bars on a high shelf, hoping her mother wouldn't question why she'd been carrying them around. Then she turned to face the queen.
Her mother was smiling like she had wonderful news that she could barely hold back. "Father wants an audience with you. He's just finished with court, and now he'd like to see you."
Cassia wiped her moist hands on her robe. "What's it about?'
"Oh, you will have to wait," her mother said. "Come with me. Quickly."
Well, at least the news was good, Cassia thought, which meant that her father didn't know Ammon had spent the night away with Alma. and whatever secrets her younger brothers were keeping from her were still hidden.
Cassia half expected to be led to the throne room, but her mother turned down the corridor just before, and they stopped in front of the king's private quarters. So it was not a public announcement, Cassia thought, which made her even more curious, although a bit anxious.
The guard posted in the hallway nodded at the queen and opened the door to let them inside.
Cassia never got used to the interior decoration of her father's quarters. He had gifts displayed from all over the land, from the highest mountain to the deepest stream that had been given to him by his people. Carved jade figures, lustrous shells from as far away as the high seas, exotic furs from animals she'd never seen, painted pottery, and more lined the room.
The fur of a huge jaguar had been made into a rug and covered a good portion of the floor. The king sat with two scribes who rose as soon as the women entered.
"You may go," Mosiah said to the scribes. They scurried out of the room.
Cassia turned to greet her father, who was all smiles. His beard had recently been cut short, making it look grayer than usual. He crossed the room and kissed her cheek. "Did you find her in the cooking room, Naomi?"
"Yes," her mother said with a laugh.
Despite the lightness of the conversation, Cassia noticed faint shadows beneath her father's eyes. His usually striking face looked drawn and aged, and frown lines pulled at his mouth where Cassia thought she'd only noticed smile lines before.
Mosiah rubbed his hands together, excitement plain in his eyes as he reached for his wife's hand. She took it and stepped close to her husband so they both faced Cassia, both of their eyes bright.
Cassia felt she might burst out of her skin with anticipation. Maybe Alma had returned to his family and made amends. That's what Ammon had been doing with him all night—convincing him to come back. And that's why Omner and Himni were so tired. They were helping Ammon, and now her father wanted to thank her for helping to convince Alma. She was about ready to ask, but her father spoke first.
"We had a surprise visitor this morning," Mosiah said, his eyes gleaming.
Alma was back!
Her mother broke in, her voice breathless with enthusiasm. "He made it very clear how he felt about you."
Was it possible?
"Of course, we told him we'd have to get your consent first," her father said with a soft chuckle. "He understood immediately. It seems he knows our Cassia quite well already."
What did her father mean? She'd known Alma forever.
Mosiah cleared his throat. "I'm happy to give my blessing to a union between you and Nehem."
Nehem? She looked from her father to her mother, who nodded encouragingly. "I—Nehem?"
"Why yes, dear, who did you think?"
"I—" Cassia said, feeling her heart twist. She tried to speak calmly
through her shaking voice. "I thought it might be him."
Her mother crossed to her and put an arm around her shoulders. "What do you think, Cassia? He's a very nice young man. He cares for you."
Cassia nodded, her eyes burning. She didn't want to cry in front of her parents, and more importantly, she didn't want to say anything she'd regret.
"He'll make a fine husband," her father said, coming to her other side. He squeezed her hand. "He even suggested a double wedding with Aaron and Ilana."
Cassia's eyes blurred. A double wedding. "I'll have to think about this. Tell him . . . Tell him I'll think about it." She backed away, trying to keep her forced smile in place. Then she turned and left the room before her parents could see her tears.
She ran. Past the guard and down the corridor. Fortunately, she passed only one person on the way—a servant who wouldn't question her flight. In her room, she shut the door and leaned against it. Her head was spinning, her heart bursting.
Nehem had asked for her hand in marriage. Not Alma.
She brought her hands to her head and groaned. Not Alma.
Then she sank to the floor, sobbing.