“Tonight?” She knew her excitement saturated her voice—and knew it was probably unseemly. A wife of the king would be expected to graciously accept whatever was
handed her, be it more attention or less.
But he looked pleased, so she cared not what was expected. “You shall indeed. Now—that kiss.”
She gave it willingly, and sighed when the sound of the door opening intruded on her senses. Xerxes pressed one last kiss onto her lips and then pulled away. He rose without
any inhibitions, and his servants leisurely draped a robe around him. There were far too many eyes present for Kasia to get up so easily, but her maidservants seemed to
understand this. One of them approached with clothing and a small smile.
Kasia sat up, her back to the rest of the room, and reached for the tunic. Her motions halted when Xerxes demanded, “What is that?”
His voice sounded harsh, cold. Cloth clutched to her chest, she craned her head around. “Pardon?”
His gaze narrowed upon her side. “You have bruises, and they look only a few days old. What happened?”
“I bumped into some of the statuary.” Hopefully her smile looked self-deprecating, nothing more. “I am sure my grace will improve as I grow used to my surroundings.”
He planted his hands on his hips. “Tell me whose hand caused these bumps. I will see them punished.”
“Not on my account, please. It is nothing. I have gotten worse by playing with my little brothers.”
“You are too forgiving, Kasia. First you praise the others’ beauty, now you defend their cruelty.” He held her gaze for a long moment.
She begged him silently to relent. She could not bring trouble on the heads of those other women, whose resentment was perfectly understandable. But if she refused to give
names if he asked for them directly, he would have no choice but to punish her.
Xerxes sighed, and his face relaxed. “As you wish, my love. But be assured the story of your forgiveness will reach the ears of whoever did this to you, so that they
realize my displeasure is tempered only by your kindness.” He flicked his gaze to one of the servants, who nodded.
“Thank you.” She gave him a smile and slipped the provided garment over her head. Somehow she suspected it would take a lot more forgiveness than that to hew herself a
place here.
He moved to tenderly cup her face and leaned down to kiss her. In spite of their audience, Kasia allowed herself to soak up all he poured into the touch. It would have to be
enough to sustain her through the day.
A moment later he swept from the room, and with him went her breath. It sucked out in a sigh that left her deflated. The same maid who had smiled at her stepped close to her
side. “Shall we show you to the house of wives, lady?”
Kasia shook herself and studied the servant. She was probably a few years older than Kasia, with features that looked European. “Certainly. What is your name?”
“Desma.” She dipped her head.
“It is good to meet you, Desma. And the rest of you?”
The other four maidservants introduced themselves, and then the two eunuchs. Kasia suspected it would take a day or two to remember them. They fell into formation around her
and moved forward, leaving her little choice but to go where they did.
An attempt not to gawk at the hallways they traveled proved futile. How did one man amass such wealth? Everywhere, gold and silver and bronze, the finest polished stone, the
rarest wood.
As they turned a corner, she spotted a statue carved of fine cypress that she would have loved to stop and examine. The figure itself held no interest for her, but the grain
was exquisite. Her father would have considered finding such a piece of wood a treasure in itself.
Her nostrils flared, and she inclined her heart to Jehovah. Prayed that he would bless her father, her mother, her siblings. Esther and Mordecai.
It took several minutes to reach the separate palace that Desma introduced as her new home. But as soon as they stepped inside, Kasia smiled. Children’s laughter and
squeals sounded, along with mothers’ and nurses’ admonitions. Her gaze settled on the courtyard, where a group of well-dressed women clustered with rhytons of wine in
their hands and a banquet of fruit and bread on a table between them.
How long before she saw them as her equals? Would she ever?
Desma stepped closer to her side. “Shall I show you the available chambers, mistress?”
Kasia swallowed down the rising panic and directed the question toward God. A peace settled over her. “No. Take me to the meanest one.”
Desma’s spine straightened. “Mistress?”
“I have enemies enough here, Desma. I will not create more by putting myself above any of them.”