“In this case, yes. I know you are fond of her, Xerxes. Why would you not include her in your entourage?”
He accepted the golden rhyton put in his hands and took a long sip. The wine did nothing to settle the question in his mind. “I want to. The thought of being away from her
so long . . . but there are no guarantees in war. There is always the chance an enemy could take us unaware. Or that the travel itself could harm her.”
Mother lifted her brows. “And if you leave her here, she will be dead by the time you return. Amestris still has much power, my son, and much hatred for Kasia. You would
have done better to have her executed.”
“It would have been simpler. But her anger was justified.” He paced to a window and looked out over the citadel. It gleamed bronze in the evening sun. All the past week he
had been weighing the situation. “You recommend taking her?”
“Strongly, both for your peace of mind and her safety. Would even the war be enough to distract you from worrying over her if she were not with you?”
His lips pulled up. “Probably not. I have never loved like this, Mother.”
“Understandable—I am fond of her myself. She is the first person I have ever met who is completely free of guile.”
He chuckled and took another drink from his cup.
When he faced his mother again, she had a contemplative look on her face. “I believe this to be the wise choice, but you must be cautious. What attracts you will attract
others, and women will be in short supply.”
“I trust Kasia not to involve herself in an affair willingly, and any who attempt to force her will wish they are dead long before I grant such relief.”
Mother leaned back, regarding him steadily. “Perhaps you ought to have made that clear before now, Xerxes. I just interrupted your brother in the garden trying to threaten
her into a tryst.”
“What?” Blood surged, thrummed, and awoke every fear. “I will kill him! I will—”
“Calm yourself.” A small smile fluttered over her mouth. “She was admirable in her refusal, and he will not attempt it again.”
“That is hardly the point.” His fingers gripped the chalice so tightly it was a wonder the metal did not deform. “Does he think such behavior will go unpunished?”
“He thought such behavior would go unnoticed. But had I not overheard and stepped in at the time, I have no doubt Kasia would have run to you to seek your help. He
threatened to have her father and brother killed.”
He could squeeze no tighter on the cup so dashed it to the ground. “I would threaten his parent and brother in return, were they not you and I.”
Mother chuckled. “All he did was make a foolish attempt for a charming girl. To his credit, when he saw there would be no success, he desisted immediately.”
“Irrelevant. The fact that he would even try! Perhaps I ought to seduce his wife and see how he likes it.”
Mother shook her head and stood. “When will you boys leave behind the follies of youth? Leave his wives alone and let this rest. I only told you because I did not want it
to reach your ears from another source—one that would not temper your anger.”
It would have, he was sure. Kasia’s servants knew to pass along anything of relevance. He grunted and folded his arms over his chest. “I will not forget this.”
She glided forward and stretched up to kiss his cheek. “You have larger concerns to occupy you right now. Be content in the knowledge that Kasia loves you. Good night,
Xerxes.”
He let her go but held his ground for a long moment. The blood still simmered. Was he surprised that Masistes wanted Kasia? No—his interest had been clear enough. But
Masistes was always interested in every new female, and it had never led to an attempted seduction before.
No matter that his attempt had been foiled. It was unforgivable that he would try to steal the wife of his brother and king. Unforgivable that he attempt it by a threat
against his beloved’s family.
But he could not afford vengeance yet. Masistes had command over one of the largest parts of his army, was governor of a few vital cities. The war was more important than
punishment for a failed mistake.
He would remember this, though. Only a fool would think he would forget.
And Kasia—she was not accustomed to these things, she would be upset. He spun around and found the door open already. Xerxes shook his head as he strode forward. “Am I so
predictable?”
Zethar smiled. “If I could not predict you, I would be a poor servant indeed.”
When he arrived at the minuscule room that was becoming as familiar to him as his own, he was not surprised to find Kasia lying on her rug. With a motion for silence, he
crept in until he could hear the cadence of her murmurs.
She spoke in Hebrew, but he caught a few words he recognized. Ahasuerus, which he knew to be his own name in her tongue. His brother’s name. And . . . “Who is Vashti?”