How he loved that smile of hers, especially as she curled against him. She kissed their daughter’s head, then him. “I love you, Xerxes.”
“And I you, lovely Kasia. More than anything. Now—sleep.”
He must have slept too, for he jerked awake when the babe in his arms began to fuss and root for nourishment. Smiling, he passed her back to Kasia and stretched. “I suppose
I must bid my guests good night. I will visit again in the morning.”
Kasia nodded, eyes closing again once Zillah was settled at her breast. “Good night, my love.”
He stole another kiss, then left her room. The hall outside was not as quiet as he had expected—two of the other wives walked down it, laughing. Just returning from the
celebration, he would guess.
They bowed, their gazes darting from him to Kasia’s door. Their contemplation was obvious—never before had he left a feast as important as this one to check on a wife and
new child.
Well, let them all learn anew that Kasia was like no other wife. He picked up his pace, the servants who had been waiting for him rushing ahead to open doors. The refreshing
evening air breathed over him, scented with jasmine and night-blooming water lilies.
“Father.”
He paused, knowing a thunderhead gathered on his face. That particular voice ought to have been nowhere nearby. He turned slowly. “What in the world are you doing here? It
is your wedding night—you ought to be with your bride.”
Darius smirked. “She is sleeping and satisfied. I thought I would check on Kasia for her.”
Every muscle in his body went taut. He stepped close to his eldest son, pitched his voice low. “You think you fool me? Not for a moment. Artaynte does not care so much
about Kasia anymore—probably because you care far too much. Leave my wife alone and go tend your own.”
The smirk faded away, challenge sprang up. But only for a moment—whether by force or acknowledgment that he would lose this battle, Darius looked contrite. “She is my
friend, Father. I only wanted to make sure she was well. I asked a servant for an update, but all he knew was that you had been with her for more than two hours. I feared
the worst.”
Would that have been enough to lure him away from his beautiful bride on their wedding night? He did not think so. But there was little point in arguing it. “She is well,
as is our daughter. Now return to your own house before your wife awakes and realizes you are gone.”
Charging past Darius and the guilty obstinance on his face, Xerxes returned to the celebration.
Thirty-Six
“This is ridiculous. How many times can one woman flirt with death and still escape it?”
Haman sighed as Amestris paced and muttered. He understood her frustration—since their return a fortnight ago, the king’s behavior had been disturbing. Every spare moment,
he was with the Jewess. Even when about business of the empire, he seemed all too eager to dispense with it so he could leave the throne room.
All the work Haman had done, all the rumors he had carefully planted . . . perhaps he just needed to tend those sprouts more diligently now that they were home. “It matters
little if she lives, lady. There is still much hurt between them, and your husband is more jealous than ever where she is concerned. I can use that.”
“See that you do.” Amestris shoved a coil of hair off her forehead, though it looked as though it had been placed there deliberately. “It is insufferable. When he was
gone, I could do as I pleased, and all knew better than to disagree with me. Now—it is that snake Parsisa leading the women against me. Now that her daughter is married to
my son, she thinks the kingdom is hers. Then there are these whispers that the king fell in love with her at Sardis—preposterous!”
Haman studied a mosaic on the wall. “I cannot speak to Parsisa’s ambitions, lady, but I can assure you the attention the king paid her was only to make his brother
jealous. Masistes had attempted a seduction of the Jewess.”
Amestris stopped before his seat and glared. “We agree that the Jews are a menace, one that will only increase in power as long as that witch holds the king’s attention. I
will do what I can within the harem, but since I am not allowed in the king’s presence . . .”
“Leave that to me.” He stood, dredged up a smile. “I will go speak with him now.”
“Good. That frees me to deal with Parsisa. Had she been here all along, she would not dare spout such poisonous words as I have heard from her—about me, her natural
superior . . .”
Haman escaped with a roll of his eyes. He would indeed leave the battles of women to her. It would be effort enough to deal with the men.
The god must be with him—when he finally located Xerxes, he was directing a fierce scowl at Darius’s retreating form. Hopefully Haman’s smile did not look too victorious.
“Good afternoon, my king. Trouble with the younger generation?”