“If it were nothing, you would argue.” He led her away from the wall, down through the garden and into the women’s palace.
Her room was at once unfamiliar with all its new furnishings and blessedly recognizable. Her father’s touch, Zechariah’s. The artistry that must be Joshua’s. And, if she
were not mistaken, the soft, thin cover on the bed had been woven by her mother’s hand.
Though she had spent only a few hours in it this morning, already it was home. She settled onto the bed and gave her husband a smile. “There, resting and docile. Go plan
some ridiculous extravagances for your son’s wedding and leave me in peace.”
After a grin and one long, sweet kiss, he left. Kasia covered the taut muscles of her abdomen with her hands as another preparatory contraction gripped her. In all
likelihood, they would taper off as she rested.
Still . . . she wished Ima were here.
*
Xerxes sighed, his heart giving a twist at the way little Chinara hid behind her mother’s legs. What had he expected? That she would remember him, when he had been gone
nearly half her life? He would have to either win her affection again or accept this new reality—his favorite daughter no longer knew him.
Still, it could hardly hurt to bribe her. He crouched down and held out the confection he had ordered from the kitchens especially for her. “I brought you something, my
little sweet.”
The girl regarded him for a long moment, then the impish grin he adored flashed. She grabbed the cake and scampered off with a giggle of delight.
Jasmine rolled her eyes. “Do not let her fool you—she remembers you, and loves you as always. She also remembers that you are generous with your gifts when you think she
needs bribed into something.”
He straightened and chuckled. “Smart little devil. I shall reward her for it with some trinket she does not need.”
“Some things never change.” Jasmine glanced around, stepped nearer. “Even some things you intended to. I did as you asked, my husband, and kept my eyes and ears open to
the goings-on of the harem.”
“And?”
She shook her head. “You will not like it. Amestris has grown more powerful than ever. The women still cower in fear of her, and the palace guard answers to her without
question. Everyone calls her the queen again.”
Xerxes scrubbed a hand over his face. He should have had her killed after she delivered his child. Mercy was troublesome. “I shall banish her to Persepolis again after my
birthday celebration, but I want all my children present for that. I imagine her youngest is still quite attached to her.”
“Artaxerxes, yes. Have you met him yet? He is a dear little boy.”
“Not yet. Soon.” He sighed and surveyed the garden where most of his wives were out, trying to look as though they were not vying for his notice. He would have to get to
know them again, divvy out his favor.
There would be time enough for that when Kasia was indisposed after giving birth. For now he would focus on her, on his son’s wedding two days hence, and on planning his
birthday feast in a few weeks.
He glanced down at Jasmine, still as plump and pleasant as she had been when he left her. A worthy friend. “Kasia would appreciate a visit, I am sure.”
The woman smiled. “I saw her briefly this morning, when she returned from your palace. We plan to dine together later.”
“Good. See that she is still resting. I worry for her.”
“Another thing that has not changed.” She settled gentle fingers onto his arm, then withdrew altogether. “I had better chase Chinara down.”
He let her go, glanced through the garden again. And froze when he spotted the shadowed figure hovering in the far entryway.
Amestris. She would not dare take another step, not while he was there—she would never enter his presence again. But he knew what look would be on her face, what challenge
in her eyes. He could sense the darkness of the god hovering around her.
You shall be undone by the women you think you rule.
Xerxes spun on his heel. Let the god try to bring his curses to reality. He would fail. No one, not even Ahura Mazda, would take Kasia away from him.
Thirty-Five
Artaynte laughed and spun to a halt, clapping with the rest of the guests for the musicians and their magical beat. She wore the finest the world had to offer, soft linen
embroidered with gold, fastened with jewels. Her hair flowed in a glossy river, sparkling with gems, and a diadem of precious metals encircled her brow.
All her life she had been the daughter of a prince, but today she was the wife of one, destined to be queen. As she looked out over the sea of faces crowding the palace for
the wedding, she saw rejoicing everywhere. Everyone was still so thrilled to have the king and his family back in Susa that spirits already soared. Never had wedding
festivities been so festive.