He despised her for this. She saw it in the shutter of his eyes, the tension in his arms as he reached for his tunic. It was only a matter of time before he called a
halt to it and instructed her to pretend it never happened.
But Darius had not caught on yet, and she would not let this be for nothing. All the terror, the nausea that seized her after each tryst—what was the point of it, if her
husband did not even realize what she had done? He could not be humbled if it remained a secret.
And surely the king wanted him to know too. How was it a punishment otherwise?
She cleared her throat and prayed the god would steady her voice. “My lord.”
He paused but did not look at her. He never looked at her, except when his eyes were glazed with animal instinct. “Hmm?”
She drew in a deep breath. “I need a boon.”
Now his hard gaze rested on her, and she wished it did not. “A boon.”
She looked at the bed cover, woven with gold in an intricate pattern. “Yes. Your son does not pay enough attention to me to realize what is going on, but it is pointless
unless he does.”
The king sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “What do you want?”
Her gaze fell on the shawl still draped carelessly over a chair. The moment she thought to ask for a favor, she knew exactly what it must be. She nodded at it.
His face twisted. “No. Not that.”
“Nothing else will work, my lord. He will know the moment he sees it on me what has happened.”
“As will everyone else.”
Yes, that was the point. Humility would not be complete if it were private—not when all the court whispered that Darius had no use for his wife. “If you are worried of
what Kasia will think, you need not be. No one will speak of it to her.”
He gripped the frame of the bed until his knuckles went white. “But what of Amestris? She will not appreciate that I have given the work of her hands to her son’s wife.”
Amestris—Artaynte had done her best to avoid the former queen all her life, and for good reason. But since the woman could not appear anywhere the king did, she would be
safe enough wearing it to the birthday feasts. “I want the shawl.”
Even when pleading, he looked fierce. “Would you not rather have a city? Ten cities?”
“The shawl.”
He growled and spun away muttering, “No one wants my cities.” Whatever that meant. When he faced her again, she knew they were finished. Part of her cried out thanks to
the god while another prayed he would relent and come again if need be, and again until Darius opened his eyes.
His shoulders edged back. “Take the shawl. It had better be enough for you, because this is over.”
Her limbs trembled. “It is enough.”
But what if it were not? Would she have to play the harlot with someone else? She certainly hoped not. There was no other affair that would hurt Darius if this one did not.
No, if this did not work, she would be out of options. Out of hope.
Which was why she must succeed now.
Thirty-Seven
Zechariah brushed the shavings from his tunic and craned his head to look into the street. Esther should be by soon. Most of the city was celebrating the king’s birth, no
one conducting business, but Abba would still expect him to put in a full day in the shop. He would not mind him taking a break when Esther arrived though. Not today.
The addition was finished. He had smoothed the last coat of clay onto the last wall that morning. Had moved in the last of the furniture he had fashioned for it. Today he
would show it to Esther, tell her he loved her. Today he would speak with Mordecai and ask for her hand in marriage.
Sweat slicked his palms. He knew she loved him, knew Mordecai would agree. Yet his stomach was in knots.
He stepped out into the warm winter breeze just in time to see Esther exiting the house three doors down. His heart galloped. The knots loosened just enough to release a
smile onto his face. “Good morning, Esther.”
“Taking a break already?” She grinned as she approached. When he held out a hand, she fit hers into it.
Her fingers were so soft, so small. He squeezed them gently and pulled her into the shop. “It is a special day—a break is allowed.”
“Ah yes, the start of the king’s birthday celebration.”
“Not quite what I was thinking of, no.” He led her through the shop, out the back to where the house he had built for her cast its shade. “It is finished. Do you want to
see?”
Her breath caught, her eyes widened to enchanting circles. “Yes. Of course.”
“I thought you might.” With a wink, he pushed open the door.
“Oh . . .” She turned the word into a happy sigh as she stepped inside and moved in a slow circle. He had not invited her in since he started filling it. Seeing the
pleasure on her face as she saw all he had done, he knew it was worth the wait. “Zech. What a beautiful home.”
“This is the main living area. Through here are bed chambers for the children.”
Her fingers tightened around his. “Room enough for a large family.”