She sighed. “It is nothing. Perhaps a passing infatuation on his part, but he has long been in love with Artaynte.”
“Artaynte?” He dropped his finger, brows creasing. “Why did he not say so? We could have arranged a marriage years ago.”
“I believe he wanted to win her affection first. The irony being he had it all along.”
“Well, time enough has been wasted, then. He needs to marry soon and start producing heirs. I will speak to Masistes before we leave Sardis in a fortnight.”
And get his son wed as soon as they returned to Susa. Perhaps when he had the lovely Artaynte in his bed, he would not find the need to ogle Kasia.
He slipped the torc off his wrist and onto her arm, where it belonged.
*
Kasia left the feast with a smile on her face. Xerxes had kept her close to his side and frequently slipped an arm around her shoulders. For the first time in months,
excitement overcame the exhaustion. She had her husband back. More, he had returned in a way she had not dared hope—contrite. Humble—or as humble as the king of kings knew
how to be.
Light still infused her nerves. He had given her leave to worship Jehovah. He had cut his ties with his god. Perhaps . . . did she dare hope someday he would serve the Lord
with her?
“It is good to see you happy again, mistress,” Desma said from right behind her. “The sparkle is back in your eye.”
Her lips pulled up even higher. “I never should have doubted what Jehovah could work.”
Desma drew in a breath that sounded happy too. “I was glad to see the court speaking to you again tonight.”
“Except Parsisa and Artaynte.” Which pierced. And made guilt wiggle to life. She should not have mentioned Artaynte’s and Darius’s feelings to Xerxes, but it had seemed
the only way to assure him the prince had no designs on her. Although perhaps she could have found another way had the prince not had designs on her. She could hardly admit
that to Xerxes, though, unless she wanted to be a wedge between them.
She did not. And surely Darius would forget his supposed feelings for her when he had Artaynte.
“Ah, there she is.”
Kasia froze, dread settling over her. Running into Masistes was never fun when Xerxes was not there—especially when he had a slur in his voice. She forced a swallow. “My
lord. It is good to see you safely returned—your wife and children surely missed you.”
“And I them.” Yet as he swayed forward, thoughts of them seemed far from his mind. That lecherous glint was in his eyes. “Though not so much as my brother missed you. You
changed the course of the war, my lovely. He should have kept you there so his heart was not torn. Although . . .” He hiccuped, leered. “I suppose he did not want to watch
you increase with another man’s child.”
Fire pulsed through her and made her tremble. “How dare you accuse me of something like that!”
Ice followed on the heels of the fire. He was not the first to make such an accusation. Did everyone think she had betrayed the king with another man? Did they all think he
had sent her away because of that? Bile rose in her throat.
He chuckled and stumbled a step nearer. “You are a woman of passion, and he had ned . . . had niggle . . . had neglected you. I am only sorry I did not realize it so I
could have offered my shoulder. And arms. And—”
“That is quite enough.” She stepped back, happy to let Theron slide between her and the sot. “I have never been unfaithful.”
Masistes loosed a bark of laughter far too loud, too raucous. “Whatever you say. But it is never too late to change that. The king will be another hour or two at his feast,
if you would like some company.”
Her fingers curled into her palms. “No thank you.” With Theron as a barrier, she marched by. Masistes would not follow, but his words lodged in her mind.
Did the entire court think her so low? First the prince, now Masistes. Though he had said he did not “realize” it before . . .
Her breath stalled. Someone must have started the rumor, someone who had always hated her. Someone who had been here to whisper to Darius, someone Masistes would have spoken
to as soon as he arrived. She knew exactly who that someone was.
Haman.
*
Artaynte leaned into the window and sighed. The landscape no longer looked beautiful, the mountain seemed only to snarl at her. Though the rest of the people rejoiced around
her to have the king among them again, she cared little. What did it matter?
Mother sat nearby, looking pleased as could be. And why not? Father was home, they would head back to Susa soon, and she insisted all went well with Darius.
But it did not. Perhaps he had paid her attention lately, but Artaynte knew no love lay behind it.