He looked her way, and his smile bloomed anew. He held out a beckoning hand. “Kasia, my love. I ought to have known you would be out—there is a river, after all, and
undoubtedly some trouble to be found in it.”
With a laugh, she rushed to Xerxes’ side. “The Meander is far too calm here to lead me into trouble. Though it is alluring nonetheless.”
Her husband slid an arm around her and dropped a kiss onto her head. “Hmm. Pythius, if I did not keep this woman surrounded by a crowd of diligent servants, she would be
off climbing Mount Tmolus before I could stop her.”
Pythius gave her a fatherly grin. “The more I know of you, lady, the more you remind me of my daughter.”
She had already learned said daughter had died of fever a decade earlier. “The highest of compliments. And my husband, you must admit the mountain begs for an explorer’s
foot.”
Xerxes ran a hand up her arm and gazed into her eyes. “Not yours, sweet one, given your condition.”
Warmth bloomed inside. “Perhaps on our way home again, then. You can watch the babe for a day, and I shall go exploring.”
Pythius laughed. “Where did you find this creature, my lord?”
Xerxes grinned. “In the river at Susa, crying in delight at the icy waters.”
“Perhaps she is a nymph, then.” Pythius nodded toward the Meander. “Our waters may not be icy today, nor sweet as the legendary Choaspes, but you should enjoy dipping
your feet within, my dear. I shall go make sure tonight’s feast is ready.”
Pythius bowed and took his leave. Kasia turned to face Xerxes, grabbing his hands and tugging him toward the river. “What have you been doing today, O mighty king?”
He followed with a grin. “I just came from Otanes—we were discussing the likelihood of the city-states responding if we send out a demand for land and water again.”
She still found it a bit odd that Amestris’s father commanded the entire army and got on so well with Xerxes, but apparently Otanes was well aware of his daughter’s
difficulty—and grateful her life had been spared. Kasia nodded. “And you were headed . . . ?”
“To Mardonius and Masistes, to get their opinions on the same.”
“Ah.” She laced their fingers together and glanced over her shoulder. The river’s edge lay a leap away. “Have you time to bathe your feet with me?”
“No.” He tugged her close and teased her mouth with his. “But I shall give it to you anyway.”
She released his hands so that she could link her arms around his neck. “That is the type of spoiling I like.”
“Shall I spoil you even more?” His lips traveled her jaw and nipped at her ear. “We could skip the feast.”
“Not a chance, my love. I could not keep down breakfast or handle much lunch. I am famished.”
He pulled away enough that she could see his peaceful smile. “Well, we certainly must not starve the little prince or princess you carry.”
She arched a brow at him as he bent down to untie her shoes. “You speak of it.”
Sighing, Xerxes unknotted the leather around her ankle and eased it from her foot. “Pythius assuaged some of my concerns. It seems his wife went through what you have in
the beginning as well—but then she carried six healthy children and had easy, uneventful deliveries. He assured me I have every reason to believe this time will indeed be
different.”
Kasia planted her hands on her hips and sent him an exaggerated glare. “And you believe him, but you would not believe me?”
He gave her the crooked grin she could not resist and tickled the arch of her foot. “I trust experience before blind faith, yes. But when they agree, we can all be happy.”
Another time, she may have jumped into the debate about experience and faith. But he tossed her other shoe aside and snatched her up with a playful roar, so she put it aside
and squealed in laughter. It seemed the wise choice—even if that stretch of her soul said she would have to find a few minutes for quiet prayer before the feast tonight.
*
Haman nudged his friend on, deliberately keeping his gaze from the river where the king and his Jewess splashed like children. Masistes, on the other hand, halted again
after a single step to study his brother. “I cannot fathom it, Haman. He has never been so dedicated to a single woman so long.”
Haman sighed. “Must we have this conversation again?”
“He is more worried for her than the war. I suppose we must admit at this point that he genuinely loves her.”
Haman snorted and frowned at Masistes. “Will that finally convince you to stop offering her your company? You will cause a civil war with your nonsense.”
“Nonsense. She may have been upset by my ill-advised proposal in Susa, but she realizes my later whispers are no more than a jest.”
Haman folded his arms across his chest. “Unless she were to accept, then you would undoubtedly forget you were joking. Sometimes I thank the god that I was not born in the
palace. The lot of you have no more loyalty—”