Esther pulled her robes tighter and rested her elbows on the bottom of the window. The first strokes of dawn painted fire on the horizon. Her first day as a wife, not
just a faceless bride. Her first day of freedom in the palace.
Kasia had promised to “introduce” her to Mordecai now, and joy surged through her at the thought. She had missed him beyond words. Missed his quiet wisdom, the sound of
his unintelligible prayers. She had missed the short walks to Kish and Zillah’s house, the chaos of all their children. And yes, Zechariah. She had missed him too.
Her gaze moved to the river for the tenth time in two minutes. She could just make out the figures doing mock-battle in the soft morning light. There must be twenty now,
though their shapes blurred in the distance. Which figure was his?
The anger had faded months ago, leaving in its place a pervasive resignation when she thought of him. She would always love him. How could she help it, when he was one of
her oldest friends, the only man she had ever dreamed of until she married the king? But he was not hers. He had never been hers. And now she was no longer his.
Large hands enveloped her shoulders. Esther started, then grinned. “Good morning.”
Xerxes hummed sleepily and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Her insides reacted with a strange little flip. This was her husband, this man she barely knew. Already she
liked him. She had enjoyed the long, languid night with him. She looked forward to getting to know him better.
But Kasia was right—he could never be her first love. That part of her heart would forever reside there on the banks of the Choaspes, caught between sword thrusts and
hurtling spears.
“It is Kasia’s brother out there,” Xerxes murmured, apparently following her gaze. “Zechariah. I have watched him many a morning from this window, and he has the skill
of the best Immortal.”
A shudder coursed through her before she could stop it. “I have no heart for conflict.”
He chuckled and rubbed at the tension in her neck. “Her brother was born for it. He has mustered quite the little army of Jews, which drives my friend Haman to insanity. He
keeps begging me to put a stop to these daily drills, but I have forbidden anyone from interfering. Poor Zech is working off a broken heart. If this were taken away from him
. . .”
She forced her breathing to stay measured, even as his words struck her like a whip. Kasia had mentioned that Zechariah and—finally—her parents had visited several times,
but she had not realized Xerxes and Zechariah actually knew one another.
Her feet were on a thin line. Pray Jehovah she could keep her balance.
“Well.” He slid his hands down her arms. “The servants will be in soon, and we must get ready. You will move into the queen’s quarters now, and the ceremony will take
place this afternoon. I will declare a holiday tomorrow in your honor.”
She spun, knowing her eyes were round as the full moon. “What?”
His lips smiled. His eyes laughed. “Do you not think ‘Queen Esther’ has a pleasant sound?”
Mordecai had said he had faith . . . Kasia had said it would be so . . . but deep inside she had never believed either of them, not really. She could hardly wrap her mind
around his words.
Her. Esther. Queen. “I . . . know not what to say. Is this simply because Kasia recommended it?”
“Would you refuse the crown if it were?” But he chuckled and shook his head. “Rather, my dear, she recommended it because she knew exactly what I needed in my next queen.
A woman of beauty to stun the masses, yes. But also one of a sweet and caring spirit, who will be able to guide the harem with quiet wisdom. One who will put her own
ambitions aside for the sake of her position and her kingdom. You are that woman.”
There must be something wrong with her, that the very thing she had set out to achieve now terrified her when it was given her. “You have not even met the last girl . . .”
“I do not need to. I called Hegai in last night while you slept—my last new bride is no better suited to the crown than the first ten. Only you, Esther.”
If he really wanted a queen who was opposite Amestris, then she could see that. She nodded and drew in a long breath. “I am honored beyond words, my husband.”
So long as she did not think of the deception. Of the ambitions that indeed hid within her . . . though really, those were vague, were they not? She only wanted to be in a
position to help if necessary, which would never happen with the king so determined to support Kasia’s people. And the deception was really no more than silence for the
sake of safety.
She closed her eyes and praised Jehovah that she had been such a recluse in recent years. The only people who would recognize her were her own, and none of them would ever
come to the palace. No Jew did but Mordecai.
Her secret would be safe, and she would be queen.
“Ah, there are the servants. Come, let us dress. We will tell Kasia before I make the announcement to the court.”
She only cast one last look out the window before she obeyed.
*