Читать книгу Jewel of Persia - Roseanna M. White - Страница 11

In the corner of the room, two of Kasia’s maidservants sat with their instruments while Desma sang. Kasia had taught them a few Hebrew psalms the day before, and she smiled now when Desma fumbled some of the unfamiliar words. It may not be perfect, but it did her heart good to hear David’s lyrics.

Though her hands worked the loom, her mind and heart inclined toward Jehovah. Thank you, Lord, for sending me Jasmine. Please help me to be a true friend to her and Chinara.

The quick swell of joy crashed into concern. But Esther, Jehovah God. Please care for her. Whom will she turn to when she needs womanly advice? Who will tease the sorrow from her eyes? I know she must be in such terrible pain. . . . Give my family and her cousin wisdom in what to say to her. Perhaps you could give Mordecai an assurance that all is well?

She let the music minister to her spirit. All in all, a pleasant way to pass her afternoon and evening, since she need not prepare herself for Xerxes tonight. Never before in the chaos of her large family had she realized how precious these moments of quiet communion with the Lord could be. Floating on this golden sea, she could almost forget how sharply she already missed her husband.

But the night stretched long and empty before her. She tried not to think of which of the spiteful girls from the house of women would be in her husband’s arms tonight. Such thoughts only made bile churn in her stomach. She breathed in a long breath. Soothe my heart, Lord. I am but one of many wives, and I need your help to find peace with that lot. Please, help me to be content with Xerxes’ affection, since I cannot have his whole devotion.

“Now that is a wistful look on my lovely Kasia’s face.”

She jumped up, weaving forgotten. “Xerxes! What are you doing here?” Hardly caring about the answer, she rushed forward. Perhaps she must share him—but she need not let it soil the moments that were theirs.

Xerxes chuckled and opened his arms to receive her. “How could I stay away, knowing such a reception awaited me?” He caught her mouth with his for a long moment. “I missed you. I hoped to lure you out for a stroll through the gardens.”

She tucked her arm into his. “Consider me lured.”

He covered her hand with his as his gaze swept her room. That now-familiar quirk pulled up half his mouth. “What is this little hole you have chosen for yourself, my love?”

She pasted sternness onto her face. “Are you insulting my room, Xerxes?”

“I was unaware I even had such a small closet in the house of wives. And it is all but bare. Why have you not requisitioned more furnishings?”

She had not thought it bare, though another table would be useful. “I did not want to take anything away from another room.”

“Then we shall have you some things fashioned. You know a woodworker, do you not?”

Her heart swelled. “I could have my father make me some things?”

Xerxes bent down to kiss her brow. “Of course. And if I am pleased with the pieces, I will order all the palace woodworking from him.”

She turned to face him again and framed his face in her hands. “Do you realize what that would mean to my family? They would never want again, never have to wonder how to feed all the children—”

“Sweet Kasia.” The precious contours of his face lifted in a smile under her hands. “I would do far more if I thought your father would accept it. Say the word, and I will gift them an entire city.”

An image deserving of a laugh. “They would know not what to do with it. But honest work, recognition for talent—that is another thing altogether. Yes, I shall fill this room to the brim with my father’s craftsmanship. How shall I get the order to him?”

“I will get instructions to your people. And speaking of gifts, I see the pearls suit you as well as I thought. You like them?”

She lifted a hand to the warm spheres resting against her throat. “How could I not? You could have given me wooden beads, Xerxes, and I would adore them.”

Xerxes laughed and lifted the strand. “You would make them beautiful, but these suit you better. Now, shall we walk?”

With a smile, she let him lead her out of her room and into the rear gardens. “I am so glad you came to see me. I missed you already.”

When he chuckled, his eyes gleamed brighter than day. Though she had known him so short a time, already she had each feature memorized. The darkest brown hair, untouched by gray, that framed his noble face. The broad stretch of his shoulders, the well-muscled chest she had fallen asleep on each night. Her blood surged at the thought.

“I missed you too. Shall I ignore the new addition and call you again tonight?” He spun her in a circle before settling against the trunk of a tree and pulling her to him.

The tease in his voice made her think him joking, but the insistence in his kiss made her wonder if perhaps he might, were she to ask. Longing welled up in her throat, but she pushed it down. It would have to be enough that he offered—were she to accept, it would lead to trouble. “Part of me wishes you would. But that would be a mistake.”

“Would it?” He rested his forehead on hers. “By the god, Kasia, I am tempted. No other woman has ever consumed me so.”

“And were you any other man, we could let it overcome us. But you are king, and you must tend to far more than me.” She knotted her hands in his robe to anchor herself to him. “Why could you not be any other man?”

Her exaggerated wistfulness earned a smile. “Ah, but if I were, then I could not have made you mine. Your father would have refused any other Persian.”

“Well then, you could have been born a Jewish man. That would solve everything.” She grinned.

But when he loosed a laugh, something in it brought her shoulders up. “The god obviously knew better, sweet one.”

“Mmm.” She pulled away and held out a hand. Once he had enveloped it in his she meandered down one of the paths. “And I shall have to grow accustomed to sharing you.”

“Does it make you jealous?” He sounded pleased by the idea.

She tilted her face up to the cleansing power of the sun. “Would you be jealous if I had other lovers?”

He growled low in his throat. “I would kill any who touched you. But it is different—you know it is.”

“The world says it must be. But a heart is a heart, be it male or female. King or slave. Of course I am jealous, Xerxes. But I have been praying for peace about it. I have no desire to be consumed by envy and bitterness like . . .” She pressed her lips together.

Xerxes laughed. “You have a point. I should not like to see you become like her either. You can at least rest in the knowledge that you are the one who holds my heart.”

“Do I?” She swayed to a halt so she could turn to him. In his eyes blazed the truth of his words. Would it be enough? Enough to sustain a marriage like theirs? “I wonder that the king can afford to put his heart in anyone’s hands.”

He raised her hand to his lips. “It is a risk. It would be a greater one, I think, to deny this. Can I trust you with my heart, lovely Kasia?”

Such a great responsibility, yet it settled on her shoulders like the kiss of the sun. “Always. I will guard it with every ounce of life.” She hesitated a moment. Perhaps it would be enough—if she met it rightly. “Logic tells me it is too soon, but my heart bids me tell you anyway. I love you, Xerxes.”

His eyes slid shut. “You have found the perfect way to guarantee my thoughts are with you this night instead of my new bride. And tomorrow . . .”

She lost herself for a long moment in his embrace, then pulled away when the sound of laughter reached them from another part of the garden. The breath she dragged in was as unsteady as her legs. “Is it tomorrow yet?”

Xerxes laughed and led her onward. “Soon enough. And how did you spend your today, my love?”

She felt her expression change from longing to excitement. “I made a friend. Chinara’s mother, Jasmine. She has been unwell all this week, but she was about again today.”

His brows drew together. “She is the first friend you have made?”

Kasia pressed her lips together. She had avoided mentioning how standoffish the others were, knowing it would displease him. “They are wary of anyone in your favor. Your mother and Jasmine both assure me this is normal.”

The noise that came from his throat sounded unconvinced. “You must be careful, Kasia. The intrigues of a harem have been known to alter empires before.”

There went her ease. “Intrigue?”

He grinned down at her. “Have you not heard that it was my mother who guaranteed I inherit, not the argument offered by the Spartan about being the first son born after he became king?”

Her lips twitched. “I may have heard mention of that theory, yes.”

“It would be foolish to assume women have grown more passive in the last decade. Though few will cross Amestris when it comes to my favoring Darius as my heir, they will still squabble among themselves in an effort to secure lesser positions for their children.”

A shiver skittered up her spine. Though Xerxes had usurped his brother’s claim to the throne peaceably, she knew enough of history to realize it was more often achieved by assassination.

Xerxes stopped and measured her. “You are right that the others will be wary of you. You must never trust them too fully. When they see that my love for you does not fade, they may smile to your face, but they will also fear your children will take the positions they think meant for theirs.”

A knot grew in her throat. “Jasmine?”

“The one safe friend, I should think.” A corner of his mouth pulled up. “With no son to fight for and a daughter secure in my affections, she remains above the eternal plotting.”

“Good.” Her breath whooshed out. “I like her very much.”

His eyes narrowed, as if thoughts crowded his mind. “You will do well to model her in one respect—keep your thoughts free of ambition. Much as my soul yearns for you, my reason must still consider the best of the empire. The offspring of a Jewess might go far, but no son we have together will ever be king. Know that now. I will not have you getting ideas in a few years that will endanger either our love or the security of my other children.”

She pulled her hands free of his as fire seared her cheeks. “You lecture me about my non-existent ambitions for a son who may not ever exist? This, Xerxes, is why talk of love should be reserved for later in a relationship. If you knew me, you would never insult me with such a warning.”

The blasted man looked amused. “I may have known you only a week, my love, but I am well acquainted with women in general. Though the weaker sex, they inevitably outdo men in conniving. At this moment, you are the epitome of humility and modesty. I would keep you that way—but once-sweet maidens often become ambitious shrews in the royal house.”

She folded her arms over her chest. “I am duly advised. And let me assure you in turn, my husband, that I have no desire to see any child of mine on the throne. I will consider my life full if I can keep them far from intrigue and but live with your affection.”

That one-sided pull of his mouth was as aggravating as it was alluring. “A lovely sentiment, but short-sighted. Much as it pains me to contemplate it, I will not live forever. Will you then be content to take the small portion your marriage contract entitles you to and retire to some obscure home? Would you not prefer your children have the means to care for you in your old age?”

“‘Means’ does not necessitate obscene wealth. But I will take your words to heart and be sure I never grow accustomed to these comforts.”

Xerxes threw his head back in laughter and slid an arm around her shoulder. “You go to an extreme, dear one. Comfort you will always have. Luxury may not be as forthcoming, unless your sons provide it . . . or unless you curry the favor of my heir.”

At the warning in that last part, she lifted her brows. “Is that another game your wives play? Seeking the good opinion of your sons?”

His lips thinned. “To varying—and sometimes dangerous—degrees. At least it has been so in past reigns. I once caught my elder brother in a compromising situation with one of our father’s youngest wives. As I watch my son grow into a man, I can but hope he has the sense to avoid such traps.” He arched a brow her way. “What think you? Did he strike you as sensible enough for that?”

She frowned at the sharp question in his gaze. “I have never met your son, my love.”

Amusement replaced the inquisition. “Of course you have. Your first morning here, when we came to see you in the garden.”

Searching her mind brought nothing but a vague recollection of the others who had been with him. “Really?”

“Indeed. Darius, my brother Masistes, and Haman were all there.”

“I shall take your word for it.” Lips twitching up, her anger faded. “I can recall only how my heart swelled when I saw you with Chinara. I care not what position our someday-children have in the empire—I just hope you love them like that.”

“Ah, Kasia.” He held her tight. “Never change.”

She snuggled against him and let peace wash over her. “Only as you desire and the Lord wills.”

He pulled away with a sigh and a glance toward the heavens. “I have guests to greet. Shall I walk you back to your pathetic little room?”

She laughed and slapped his chest lightly. “Go to your feast, Xerxes. I will linger here another moment.”

After a warm kiss, he took a step away but then paused. “Have you explored the compound yet?”

The very thought had terrified her each time someone proposed it. She shook her head.

Xerxes smiled. “In the next few days, I will show you our winter home in its fullness.”

She smiled and raised her arm in farewell. “I will look forward to it.”

He strode away with all the confidence of a man who ruled half the world. Kasia smiled and shook her head. Her husband was so sure of himself he could mount an invasion of a continent . . . while she was so insecure she could not venture beyond this one building. Perhaps after he showed her around, it would not seem so overwhelming.

A frisson of unease washed over her, and she froze. She was not alone. Her eyes scanned the flowers and trees, the fountain pulsing with clear, sweet water. Her gaze snagged on the form of a woman. A woman whose stomach was round with child, whose face was hard as stone, whose eyes spewed unmitigated hatred.

Kasia gulped. “Good evening, my queen.”