“Your first?”
Pain shot through the contentment. “The first to make it to term. A story for another day.” She nodded toward the queen. “I ought to stop distracting you. Dull as the
history of kings can be, you will need to know it. You may be the next queen.”
The way she said it, so sure, so simple. Esther’s stomach did another cartwheel. It had never occurred to her that she would have an ally, one who apparently had the king’
s ear.
Then again, it had never occurred to her that she would have to share a husband with her dearest friend. Somehow, that felt different than sharing him with all these other
women.
When had life gotten so complicated?
*
“So you were a peasant.” The beautiful young thing across from Kasia blinked her doe-eyes in innocence and gave her a sickeningly sweet smile. “What a change it must have
been for you, then. Of course, my father is cousin to the king.”
Naturally that meant Xerxes would drop the crown onto her brow and kiss her feet for good measure. Kasia tried to push her cynicism away, tried to smile at the girl.
What a gem she was. Sweet as nectar . . . left to ferment in the sun. Always knew the right thing to say . . . to belittle whomever she spoke to.
Definitely a daughter of royalty.
Kasia saw no point in prolonging this. Not when she ached to return to little Zillah, who would need fed. “You will have no trouble adjusting to palace life, then. If you
have any questions about the king—”
“Oh, I have known him all my life.” She batted those wide eyes of hers. “I suppose that means longer than you have, now that I think of it.”
“Then I shall not bore you with what you already know.” Kasia stood and gave her a tight smile. “Though if you have questions later, I will be happy to answer them.”
“I do hate to bother you, what with that new baby. A daughter, you said?”
Kasia gritted her teeth at the tone. “Indeed. It was a pleasure to meet you.”
She saved the roll of her eyes until she had left the chamber. Hegai grinned and took her arm. “I figured you would want to get that one out of the way, mistress.”
“You could have warned me.” But she chuckled. Largely because she caught a glimpse of Esther, and the joy . . . it was nearly like when she returned to Zillah after time
away. That feeling of family, of home. She nodded her way. “The young lady I sat beside seemed very sweet.”
“Esther—my favorite already. You will like her.”
“I am sure. You have excellent taste.”
“Liking you straight away as I did, you mean?” The custodian chuckled and led her out of the house of women, toward the house of wives. “It is good, what you are doing,
mistress. Many of them will not heed your council, just as they do not heed mine. But we will know the ones who will, and it is they who have the potential to be the kind of
queen Persia needs.”
Her servants fell in around her, and Kasia nodded. “You are right about that. Perhaps you could sprinkle in a few of the receptive ones early on? I am not overly fond of
bashing my head into a wall day after day.”
Hegai gave a hearty laugh. Kasia grinned, but her mirth was cut short. Artaynte stood planted in the path.
Kasia patted Hegai’s arm. “I shall have to ask you to give me a minute, my friend.”
The custodian covered her fingers, gave them an encouraging squeeze. “I shall speak to you later, then.”
He headed off on another path. Kasia continued on hers until she was an arm’s span from Artaynte. Her once-friend looked uncomfortable at the best—and that built on the
shadowed eyes, the sloped shoulders. Sympathy stirred, but she ignored it.
Artaynte shifted her gaze to the ground. “You look well. I see your figure has returned.”
Kasia blinked. “A year and a half since we last spoke, and that is the first thing you say to me?”
Tears welled in the girl’s eyes. The fact that she made no move to clear them gave Kasia the impression that the brine was a constant companion. “I had no choice in the
distance, at first.”
“You always had a choice. I respect obedience, Artaynte, but you must still think for yourself.”
She tucked her chin to her chest. “I tried that with Darius. We all know how that turned out.”
Accusations tripped over one another for a place on her tongue. Kasia held them down. They would accomplish nothing. “I wanted to thank you for tending my son’s grave. For
planting the flowers. That meant the world to me.”