He strode back through the gardens, back into her banquet, then came to a halt when he saw Haman across her lap and horror on her face. Familiar red tinged his vision.
“Will he also assault the queen?”
Haman jolted up, tear-streaked and shattered. Terror consumes his countenance—and well it should. Xerxes charged across the chamber and plowed a fist into his face,
satisfied when the beast sprawled on the floor.
One of Esther’s eunuchs stepped forward with a smirk. He pointed to the window that overlooked Susa. “Look, master. Even now in Haman’s house are gallows, fifty cubits
high—he had them built for Mordecai.”
He stared at the man he had called brother. Nothing but reviling filled him. He leaned down long enough to rip his signet from the wretch’s finger. “Hang him on it.”
The servants smiled as they grabbed him and dragged him screaming from the room.
When the racket died down, Xerxes turned to Esther. “And you. How can you call yourself my wife, my queen, yet hide who you are from me?”
She folded her hands peacefully in her lap, as if nothing in the world could disturb her. And blast it if that peace did not try to curl into him too, to soothe the ragged
edges of his soul.
He pushed it away and folded his arms across his chest.
Esther drew in an easy breath. “Had my heritage been known, I would not be your wife and queen.”
“You wanted the crown so badly that you lied to get it? You, who I always thought above such ambitions?”
Hurt flashed in her eyes, but the calm smothered it. “It had nothing to do with ambition, only with obeying the will of Jehovah. Do you think he did not know all along it
would come to this? Haman would have executed his plan regardless of who your queen was. If it were not me, who then would have spoken to you?”
He spun away, plunged a hand into his hair. Her questions did not bear considering—the answers were all too apparent. Had Esther not spoken, he would have remained in his
cloud of oblivion until the guard arrived to hack Kasia to pieces.
He shuddered and faced her again. “Even so. You could have told me at some point, after you were queen.”
Her lips curved up. “My husband, if I were going to risk your wrath, it was going to be for a purpose.”
He opened his mouth to rebut that, but movement in his periphery captured his attention. He turned—and his words died on his lips.
Kasia gripped the post of the door. “If you are going to be angry, my love, be angry with me. I am as guilty of this deception as Esther is.”
Xerxes could only stare.
*
Kasia willed strength into her stiff limbs and motioned her servants to stay back. If she must face her husband on this, she would not do it leaning on Desma or Theron.
Jehovah would be support enough.
The screams had jarred her from her stupor, screams she knew well—Haman’s. The same screams that had sounded before the mountainside rushed at her in Sardis. And as they
rent the air, the gentle shackles holding her down released.
She had all but flown here on her unsteady legs.
“Kasia.” Xerxes breathed it as if uncertain of what his eyes beheld.
Unable to ignore the desperation in his voice, she took a step inside. Her knees protested, and she wobbled. In the next moment, her husband’s arms were around her.
“My love.” His voice shook, as did the hand that stroked her hair. “I feared you would never wake again.”
“As did I, at first. But it was the work of Jehovah, Xerxes. He held me protected in his embrace to spare me Haman’s scheme.”
He shuddered and pulled her closer still. “To think I could have lost you to one of my own decrees . . .”
She tilted her face to him for the brief, intense brush of his lips. “Jehovah had a plan in place.” She pulled away enough to look past him, to where Esther had taken to
her feet. “I am proud of you, my sister.”
Esther inclined her head. Humble, even in perfect confidence. “I did only what you would have done.”
“You did what I could not. Had the Lord not held me immobile, Haman would have killed me and blamed it on the Jews to rouse the king’s anger against them.”
Xerxes stiffened. “Impossible.”
“He confessed it to me, that first day. I could hear, even if I could not respond. You have proven before how far you will go to avenge me.” She searched his gaze, praying
he would finally believe her. “And he tried before. In Sardis. He is the one who pushed me from that wall, I am sure of it.”
“I have no reason to doubt you now.” He sighed and led her over to Esther’s couch. “Sit before you fall.”
She obliged. When Esther sat beside her, she gripped her friend’s hand.
Xerxes eyed them warily. “So then. You knew all along she was a Jew.”
Esther smiled. “We were neighbors. Best of friends.”
“She was told I was dead. Neither of us knew what became of the other until she arrived here.”
Each muscle of Xerxes’ face hardened. “And instead of letting me rejoice with you over reuniting with this dearest friend, you shut me out. You lied to me, both of you.”