Then she smiled, and he sighed. Perhaps the trouble lay not with her God—perhaps it lay in the fact that not one among his people were as faithful to Ahura Mazda as
she to Jehovah. He opened his arms to her and gave her a kiss of greeting.
When the babe in her stomach nudged him, he pulled away and frowned into Kasia’s grin. How far along was she now? She was larger than she had gotten with their son, and
never had he felt the boy’s movement like this.
Everyone knew she carried his babe, but none spoke of it since he refused to. He could see the strain of that in her eyes. Still, he could not regret it. Not if it saved
her.
“There is to be a battle, then?” She turned to where her servants had set out a meal for them and sat on her favorite cushion.
“It is inevitable. We must have access to the pass.”
Her hum sounded sad. “They will all be killed. That too is inevitable, but it is a shame. They are a noble people.”
He sat beside her, gaze locked on her profile. Something in her face, in her tone . . . “Tell me you do not empathize with these arrogant rebels.”
She turned peaceful eyes on him. “Can I not admire them for their dedication to their law, for their pursuit of honor? Seeing the line of them in front of that wall . . .
it helps me understand the spirit of my eldest brother.”
He tore off a piece of bread with more force than necessary. “Your brother would stand against my army?”
“My brother would have been part of your army had our father allowed it. I never understood what drove Zechariah to learn to fight. I never imagined what our forefathers
must have felt when surrounded by the Babylonian army. I do now.”
“Oh, that is right.” He tossed the bread back down without tasting it. “Your father raised you to think I am a cruel oppressor, so obviously you take the side of the
rebels.”
She paused with her cup halfway to her mouth. “I may understand why they resist you, but I do not take their side.”
Xerxes studied the angle of her chin, the gleam of her eyes, the straightness of her spine. “You actually believed all that nonsense Demaratus spouted about free men? You
think it logical for them to fight to the death rather than preserving their lives by bowing to me?”
“Logical? No.” She put her chalice down again. “But I think it faithful to what they believe.”
He raised his wine to her in a mock salute. “Well, you are the expert on faith.”
Her jaw clenched, she swallowed. Then she gave her usual grin. “Thank you for admitting it.”
Xerxes sighed. She did not want to tease him out of his mood today, but still she tried. He ought to let himself be teased. “Forgive me, my love. I apparently have a bit of
Darius in me—it pains me to see a battle on the horizon and know I must observe from a distance.”
She slid closer to him and nestled into his side. “I did not mean to make you think I would wish the Spartans success. I may admire their bravery, but that falls far short
of how proud I am of all you have accomplished.”
“I know.” Or at least, he ought not waste time debating it. “Let us eat.”
They did so in relative silence, and afterward his gaze fell on her stomach again. A small bump twitched the fabric of her chiton. He reached out to cover the movement with
his hand before he could think better of it. The babe kicked again.
Kasia let out a contented sigh but otherwise said nothing. Xerxes’ eyes slid shut. Perhaps silence was enough. There had been no problems, no threats from an angry god.
Either Ahura Mazda did not care about a girl-child, or he was appeased by how little attention Xerxes had given it—or perhaps how little she had spoken of Jehovah lately.
One or all approaches was working.
Still. He could afford no risks today. “Sweet one, I need you to promise me something.”
“What is it?”
He opened his eyes and studied her. In some moments the beauty of her face still struck him, sucked the breath from his lungs. But most of the time he saw her, rather than
her features. The passion that ignited his own. The love that lit her eyes whenever she looked his way. She was the only one of his wives who truly loved him, the man. But
today he needed her to obey her king.
“I appreciate the effort you have put into obeying me recently, Kasia. I expect you to do the same today. My men will face danger, and I know your instinct is to pray to
your God. You must not.”
He had no word to define the look in her eyes. Fear mixed with sorrow. Anger colored with dread. “Xerxes. That is like asking me not to think, not to breathe.”
“At least keep off your rug. If you must pray, let no one know you do it.”
Her lips pressed together. Rebellion brewed in her eyes. “I do not pray in public anyway, only the privacy of my tent.”
“The god can still see you.”
The babe nudged his hand again, no doubt in response to Kasia’s agitation. She drew in a long breath. “You would forbid me from seeking Jehovah entirely, if you could.”
“Kasia.” He drew his hand away. “What care of Jehovah’s is this war? It belongs to the god.”