He certainly hoped that gossip had not reached Kasia. “A compliment to the extraordinary beauty of your woman. You ought to be flattered.”
His brother sputtered, and for a moment Xerxes thought he might try to strike him. “Flattered? You expect me to feel flattered after watching you try to seduce her?”
Xerxes folded his arms over his chest. “Let me consider it. How did I feel two years ago when Mother told me you had threatened to have Kasia’s family killed if she did
not sleep with you? Not flattered, I suppose.”
Masisted paled. “That was ages ago, and the threat was vain. Surely you know that.”
“A more recent example then? Very well, how did I feel a week ago, when you approached her again, insulting her virtue and the legitimacy of my child? I was not
particularly flattered to overhear that either, I grant you. So I suppose I expect you to feel much like I did. Furious.”
Matching his stance, Masistes sucked in a long breath. Some of the rage disappeared from his face. “If you are so sure of her fidelity, you have no reason to grow angry.”
“So you think I have a chance of success with Parsisa?”
Masistes pressed his lips together and then tossed his hands up. “You win! Your point is thoroughly proven. I will never again whisper an untoward word to Kasia, if you
promise to stop foisting your attention upon Parsisa.”
“You have my word.” He chuckled—he ought to have done this years ago.
Masistes turned, but Xerxes caught his arm. “While I have you here, there is another matter to discuss. Your daughter.”
“Artaynte?” Masistes lifted a brow. “You may have her for a queen, but she will not be another nobody in your harem.”
Xerxes winced at the reminder of the task awaiting him in Susa. “She will be queen, but not mine. Darius would have her as his first wife—I spoke to him yesterday.”
His brother’s eyes lit up. “Ah! A perfect arrangement.”
“We can announce the betrothal tomorrow, and they can wed as soon as we get to Susa.”
Masistes grinned and clapped a hand to his shoulder. “This was a much better meeting than I thought we would have this morning, brother. I will go share the excellent news
with Parsisa and Artaynte, and our men can draw up the legal contracts.”
“I will come inside with you.” And there part ways. He would inform Kasia, too, that neither his brother nor his son would bother her again . . . and find a way to do so
without admitting his tactics. He had a feeling she would be none too pleased to realize his methods of procuring the promise from Masistes.
But it was hard to argue with what worked.
*
Mesopotamia, en route to Susa
Darius drew in a breath of the warm night air. The longer they traveled, the more temperate the weather became. They were halfway home, a fortnight into the trip, and he
longed to be home.
He had not considered, when he set out on campaign, how much he would miss his younger siblings. His mother and grandmother. Now that he knew he would see them so soon, each
day dragged against anticipation and seemed twice is normal length.
He glanced around as he entered his tent. A lamp burned within, welcoming and golden. “Themis?”
A woman stepped from behind the screen, but it was not his slave. “I sent her away. She objected, but given that I shall be her mistress in a few weeks, she decided it was
wise to obey.”
A simmer of excitement heated his blood. Not like if it had been Kasia greeting him in that translucent garment, but he could not help but respond. His future bride may not
have the heart he wanted, but no one could find fault with her beauty. “Artaynte, what are you doing here?”
She smiled. She probably meant it to be seductive, but it wobbled around the edges. “I would have thought it obvious.”
Pasting incredulity onto his face, he headed for wine. “A new plot of your mother’s? I assumed her satisfied, now that you are my betrothed-wife.”
“Mother would be furious if she knew I was here.”
Her voice shook, but it was the defiance in it that grabbed his attention. He sloshed some wine into a chalice and faced her.
She lifted her chin. “I will follow my own advice now. And yours, when you are my husband.” One step toward him, then she stopped. “I have always loved you, Darius. I
cannot bear the thought that I have ruined any chance of winning your heart because I listened to my mother.”
He took a gulp of the wine then set it down. “And this is how you think to prove your love?”
Whatever determination had brought her here, he watched it lose the battle to her modesty. She grabbed at a shawl and wrapped it around herself as she flew toward the exit.
“You are right. It was stupid of me to think—”
“Wait.” He jumped into her path and caught her. His grin refused to be tamped down. “I did not say I was disinterested.”