“A world I cannot imagine. Well, I suppose I must go receive this friend of yours. Though if you have changed your mind and want me to stay with you instead . . .”
She gave him a little push toward the door. “You are ever determined to make the other women resent me, staying with me when you have promised them time.”
“It makes them respect you. And let it be noted that you are literally pushing me into another woman’s arms.”
She laughed and wrapped her free arm around his waist. Rested her mouth against his shoulder. “I love you.”
He turned to give her a proper farewell. “I will see you in the morning. I love you both.”
As he exited, she handed Zillah to Desma and turned to her prayer rug. He smiled and shook his head.
The evening was warm and sweet-smelling, pleasant enough to tempt him to linger outside. But he could hear Kasia in his head, admonishing him for keeping a nervous bride
waiting. He headed for his palace and only paused for a moment outside the door. Only dragged in one long breath. Only took a single minute to pray to Kasia’s God that this
one be better than the last ten.
Zethar gave him half a grin and opened the door.
Usually his brides set a scene for him, arranged cushions and placed themselves just so upon them. A few fell asleep when he kept them waiting too long, occasionally he
found one in a chair, once or twice weeping. But Kasia had, until now, been the only one he found at the window, looking out at the rest of the world.
From the back, he could note her excellent figure, the long sweep of unadorned hair. As she turned, he could suck in a breath of appreciation over the beauty of her
features.
But they had all been beautiful.
Her smile, though, held no pride. He stepped inside. “You are Esther?”
She genuflected. “My lord.”
Her gaze sought the ground before she seemed to remind herself to look up at him. He smiled. “Kasia tells me I will like you.”
Her smile changed, went from polite to warm, and it transformed her face from beautiful to something far more. “She tells me I will like you too.”
Kasia’s regard was mutual, then. That relieved an unnamed worry. “She was certainly right about your beauty—she assured me you surpassed the others in that regard.”
The girl blushed and looked at the ground again. “Thank you, my lord. If I may confess, I forgot what a handsome man you are. I glimpsed you once, when I was a girl.” She
shook herself, moistened her lips, and stepped forward with hands extended. Folded fabric rested upon them. “Hegai said we should all make you something. Kasia recommended
this—she said you were in need of a new one.”
He moved forward, slowly enough not to intimidate her. Accepting the gift, he opened it up and grinned. “A shawl. Yes, I am afraid my favorite has been lost to me.” And
leave it to Kasia to recommend this. She could have made him a new one herself, but no. She would prefer the symbolism of having her choice of his next queen replace the
garment from his previous one. “You are a talented weaver.”
“Thank you.” Her voice shook.
He touched a finger to her chin to urge her face up. “Are you scared, Esther?”
“A bit nervous.” She smiled again, but it was not so bright as when she spoke of her friend.
“And sad.” The sorrow deepened her eyes, as if providing a portal to the secrets of her heart.
“Not sad, exactly, but . . . do you know what she thinks? Kasia? She thinks we will fall in love and she will have to step aside.” She blinked back tears and shook her
head. “Yet still she has done all she can to mold me into the wife you will want, and I know she has told you only the good things about me.”
She thought that? Foolish, selfless woman. He dropped his hand and arched his brows. “What do you think?”
Esther focused her gaze somewhere around his throat. “You are my husband. And given all she has told me about you, I know I will care for you. I hope and pray you will care
for me too—but I will never hurt her. I give you what I am, my lord. But I think everyone but her realizes that will never compete with what she is.”
Compassionate, considerate . . . yet she clearly understood that no one would ever replace Kasia—even if Kasia did not. He took her hand. “About her, you have the right of
it. No one can be Kasia—but no one else has to be.” He lifted her hand, kissed it, and smiled. “I think you and I shall get along quite nicely, that we will enrich each
other’s lives and expand each other’s hearts.”
Peace gleamed in the eyes she lifted to him. “I think we shall.”
Kasia had been a fool if she really thought anyone, even as sweet a girl as Esther, could take his heart from her. But she had also been right. He had found his next queen.
*