“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.”
“But you are above them, mistress. The king has never given any of his wives the choice of their chambers.”
“Perhaps not. But since he has given it to me, it is my prerogative to choose the place most comfortable.” She smiled, wondering if this girl realized that until a week ago, their situations were not so different. “I daresay even the vilest of these rooms will be far more luxurious than to what I am accustomed. In my father’s house, I was fortunate to share a room with only my four sisters and not also with my five brothers.”
The corner of Desma’s mouth tugged up. “Ten of you? Your mother must be a woman of limitless patience.”
“And limitless love.” Who was helping her with the wee ones now? The twins were the next eldest girls, but they were too involved with their own thoughts. Ah well, they would have to step out of their private world. At least Eglah and Sarai were well behaved. The younger boys, though . . . they delighted in giving the girls grief.
Desma sighed. “Very well. This way.”
They skirted the courtyard and moved down a hallway lined with doors. Desma stopped before a closed one at the end, and another of the maidservants—Leda, was it?—tugged the iron ring to open it. The taller of the eunuchs, Theron, entered first and took account of the chamber before nodding. The group broke their ranks so that she might enter.
It was a dim room, the only windows low and small. But the scent of flowers wafted in from them, and the appointments were blessedly simple.
Desma shook her head. “It is too close, surely. There is another—”
“No, it is perfect.” She noted two other chambers connected to this one, probably intended for the servants or perhaps a child or two. Put together, it was as large as her father’s house. “Perfect.”
Though her surprise was colored with disbelief, Desma relented with a tilt of her head. “As you wish, mistress. We will have your belongings brought over.”
Three of the maids scurried away, and the eunuchs took up position in the corners of the room. Kasia looked around, wondering how a wife was to pass her days when she had no household, no mending or cooking, and no babes.
“Well, this is most unusual.”
At the vaguely familiar voice of Queen Atossa, Kasia spun back to the doorway. Xerxes’ mother stood in all her regal splendor with a lifted brow and a crooked smile. “Here you are in the lowliest chamber of the house of wives, yet my son assures me you are all he hoped and more.”
When the queen mother took a step into the small room, her presence seemed to fill it so much Kasia felt she should kneel in deference. She allowed herself only to dip her head. “He gave me leave to choose my own rooms.”
“And you chose this?”
“As you see.”
Atossa shook her head, but her face reflected approval. “You are an odd girl, Kasia. And I have not seen the king smile so brightly since he was a boy. Come, share the meal with me and some of the other women I think you will like. We will introduce you to life here—and teach you how to avoid Amestris, though you will have to appear at her feast this week.”
More relieved than excited, Kasia followed her new matriarch out the door.
Six