He bent down so that he could meet her watery brown eyes. “She told me,” he whispered. “About the men you two met the other day at the river. You are thinking of
that, are you not? That she went back to that spot?”
How could a girl no more than a child look at him with a gaze so very old? “I know she did. She had been unable to put it from her mind, but then I told her . . . you know
Kasia. She would have gone back there to settle her thoughts.”
Zechariah reached up to thumb away a stream of tears from her cheek. “What did you tell her?”
She pulled her lip between her teeth, eyes on his shoulder.
He drew in a long breath and straightening. “Tell me, Esther.”
She would not appreciate the tone—it would remind her that he was a man, she a child, in spite of the shy smiles she gave him. He had done his best to ignore her attention
in the past to keep from embarrassing her, but right now he would demand obedience along with her childish devotion. It was the only way to help her.
Her shoulders slumped, her gaze fell to the ground. “Mordecai was going to speak for her.”
A curse very nearly slipped out. If only he had, a week ago. Then Kasia would have been too busy with wedding preparations to sneak off to the river, and the ill-fated
meeting with the Persians would never have happened.
Zechariah scrubbed his hand over his face. “Let us not mention that to Abba, hmm? It would upset him all the more, to realize what could have been.”
Her nod looked heavy, sad. “I am sorry, Zechariah. I should never have mentioned it to her. Then she would not have—”
“Shh.” Unable to stand the sorrow emanating from her face, he pulled her against his chest and rested his chin on the top of her head. “This is not your fault, Esther. It
was an accident. Kasia escaped to the river more frequently than you know, to think and relax in the few moments she could.”
“But—”
“No buts. She went for a walk last night, nothing more. Got caught in the rain, slipped into the river. It is a tragedy, but it is not your fault.”
A shudder ran through her.
He knew the feeling. “We have both lost a sister this day. The pain will not soon ebb, but we shall get each other through it. I will be a brother to you, as she had been
your sister.”
It may not be what she dreamed of right now, but it would suffice. It was all he could offer, especially if he convinced Abba to let him join the army that would soon set
off for Greece. And even after the war, after she had grown . . . there could never be more.
Not with this secret between them.
Four
Kasia blinked her eyes open and stared at the rich, unfamiliar surroundings. Brick walls with a mosaic of mythical animals. Red-polished lime floors covered with thick rugs.
By the door two stone dogs stood sentry. Was it her imagination, or did they snarl at her?
She pushed herself up in the bed, softer by far than her pallet on the floor at home. Light from the low windows winked off ornaments of gold and silver. Everything mocked
her, screamed that she did not belong.
The heavy wooden doors swung open, and Hegai strode in, a line of servants behind him. He smiled, but it did little to ease the ache inside.
“Awake, I see. Good. We have much to do, and not much time to do it in. If you could rise, Kasia, we need measurements for a new wardrobe. Then you must have your first
treatments in oil of myrrh.”
She swung her legs out of the bed and planted her feet on the floor, even as questions swirled through her mind. “I have heard about these preparations. They are a year in
total, are they not?”
“Usually, yes.” Hegai sighed and motioned a man forward. She assumed him to be a tailor, given the string he held up to her. “But not in your case. The king granted me a
week, and I had to beg for that much.”
She nearly fell back onto the bed. “A week? I . . . but . . . why?”
Hegai shrugged and motioned more servants to the bath sunken into the floor. “I do not presume to know the mind of the king. Perhaps it is because he anticipates leaving
soon for his campaign against Greece and wishes to make you his wife beforehand.”
The room rocked around her. “What did Haman tell him about me?”
“I know not, but he need only speak the truth to capture the king’s attention.” Though his gaze turned critical, she saw satisfaction within it.
Kasia forced herself to swallow. “Who was the other man? The one with Haman when they first saw me?”
He motioned more servants to the other side of the room, where they set out dish after dish of aromatic food. Her stomach knotted in protest. “I am not certain,” he said.
“Probably Masistes, the king’s younger brother. He and Haman often ride together.”