She tilted her head back, and he lost himself in the simmering heat of her eyes. Though she did not smile, he knew her answer before she opened her mouth. “I love you
always. I forgive you. And I pray you forgive me.”
Unable to help himself, he pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. “You have done nothing wrong. I am the one who acted the arrogant fool, who lost sight of what mattered. I am
so sorry, my love. The things I said, the things I asked of you—”
“And I am sorry.” She pressed her lips together, tears welling in her eyes. “I obeyed you when I should not have. Jehovah bade me pray for you, and I refused.”
He could barely force a swallow. That proved her anger more than anything else could have. “You despised me.”
“I was angry.” She focused her gaze on his chest, nostrils flaring. “I later learned that was the day the spy came to you, to convince you to attack the Greeks at sea.
Perhaps if I had prayed, one of the Lord’s messengers could have whispered a warning in your ear.”
He saw again that flash of light, snuffed out by darkness. Was it possible? Had one of her Jehovah’s angels tried to reach him, only to be stopped by Ahura Mazda’s? Had it
been her prayers all along that made the difference?
Resting his forehead on hers, Xerxes closed his eyes. “I will never again ask you not to pray to your God.”
“And I would never again obey you, even if you did.” A smile colored her words. Then her fingers fisted in his tunic. “It must have been awful, for you to give up the
battle after one day.”
He lifted his head so that he might meet her gaze. “All my advisors said I should have mounted another attack. But it ceased to matter. I only wanted you. Besides.” He
smiled and moved a hand to her stomach, where the babe continued to make her presence known. “Had I delayed much longer, we would not have been able to make it back to Susa
before our daughter joins us. And that was your dream, was it not?”
The tears made her eyes glisten like sardonyx. “We still have two months before she is due.”
“It will take us nearly one to get home, and I know you will be uncomfortable at the end of your time. I would have you resting at the palace for the last weeks.”
She nestled against him, her lashes a black fan against her cheeks. “I have missed you so.”
“Oh, Kasia.” He cinched his arms around her and closed his eyes on the rest of the world. “You are the most important thing to me. The god was none too pleased—he came
in a dream again, threatened to destroy you and all your people, to undo me through my wives if I chose you over him.”
He opened his eyes again and found her gazing up at him, agape. “Yet you are here.”
“I am here.”
She swallowed. “Even though I chose Jehovah over you.”
“Jehovah preserves your life, protects you, ministers to your soul.” He shook his head and urged her to move to his side so they could meander toward the citadel. “My god
works through darkness and fear. I have had enough of that. I want only you, and will trust that your Jehovah can fend off the anger of Ahura Mazda.”
“He will.” Her fingers wove through his, and she squeezed. “He could be your Jehovah too, you know. Then he could minister to your soul, protect you, preserve you.”
If her ceasing to pray were the proof of her anger, this was surely the proof of her forgiveness. Xerxes lifted her hand, kissed her fingers. “I am no Jew, my love. It is
enough that he bless you.”
“Father!”
He looked up at the wall, where Darius waved to him with a smile. Xerxes lifted a hand in greeting. “I see you kept the empire in one piece while I was away.”
His son laughed. “There has been little to do. I will update you at your leisure.”
“Soon.”
Darius nodded, cast a long glance over Kasia, and drew in a breath. Did his son not even have the sense to guard his gaze? “Well, I will leave you to your stroll.”
Xerxes watched him stride away and then glanced down at his wife. Her eyes were focused straight ahead, and he had the distinct impression they had been throughout the
exchange.
Best to get it over with—he would not be able to rest if he were wondering. “Haman said you and Darius became friends.”
Her lips pressed together, pulled up. It was not a smile. “He was kind and attentive, but only out of pity. No one else has spoken to me since I arrived. Other than
Pythius, of course, but he does not appear in public these days.”
Pythius. “I am glad our Lydian friend has not extended his hatred of me to you.”
“He does not hate you. Not any longer.”
He appreciated the squeeze of her fingers, but that had not been the purpose of this conversation. “Good. And I am glad Darius welcomed you.”
Did she hear the question behind the statement? Her brows arched. “I would have preferred to pass my days with Artaynte, had Parsisa not forbidden it.”
He refused to be baited into discussing his brother’s wife. Instead he stopped, put a finger under her chin. “I saw the way he looked at you, Kasia.”