midst. Was Amestris unwell? He ought to have made it clear she was only to come if she felt up to it . . . though it was rare she felt unequal to flaunting her beauty.
The wine’s stupor dissipated when he saw the expression upon Zethar’s face. Xerxes stood. “What is wrong? Is the queen in labor? Unwell?”
Zethar’s jaw ticked. He extended his hand. “The queen sends you this, master.”
Xerxes felt his forehead crease. He reached out and took the broken circle of silver. She sent him a gift by way of apology? It was a bit extravagant for that, what with the intricately fashioned lions’ heads . . .
The last of the wine cleared from his head, and Xerxes cursed. He stepped closer to Zethar, kept his voice low. “Did she send a message along with this?”
Zethar leaned forward. “One she delivered for all to hear. Forgive me, master, for bearing such a message . . . that she hoped it kept you warm at night, because neither she nor the Jewess would.”
He cursed again and closed his hand around the torc. He had forgotten Amestris had given it to him. But how did she get it back? She would have had to take it from Kasia . . .
Xerxes charged for the garden’s exit, not even slowing to order his brother and son not to follow. There was no time. Amestris’s threat that she would not keep him warm at night did not concern him, but Kasia?
“Father!” Darius broke into a run, but Xerxes refused to slow. “What are you about? Please, do nothing rash against Mother. You know how she is, especially when so near her time. She must not feel well enough to—”
“You do not want to take her part right now, Darius.” He held out an arm to keep him out of the way as he neared the corner.
Perhaps she only meant that she and Kasia had discovered together that he had given to one a gift purchased by the other, and that they were both angry with him. Perfectly reasonable, and that would be no cause for alarm.
Yet it did not sound like Kasia. Had she been distressed, instead of festering she would hunt him down and demand an explanation. Her anger may have been quick that afternoon, but so was her forgiveness.
No. Amestris had not been speaking of shared anger.
“Brother.” Masistes panted in his effort to keep up. “I called for your legal advisors as we left the feast. They can counsel you on how to deal with the queen’s disobedience. There is no need to race to confront her—”
“I will not confront her.” He turned toward the house of wives. His servants sprinted ahead of him to open the massive doors. They barely managed a wide enough opening before Xerxes reached them and hurried through, sideways.
“Then where are we going? What was her message?”
He ignored Masistes and barreled down the hall. All of his wives must still be at the queen’s feast, otherwise the commotion would have brought them to their doors. But he knew Kasia would not be with them.
Zethar must have realized where he was headed—he led the way to her rooms and opened the door. When Xerxes stepped inside, his heart lurched into his throat and choked him.
Kasia. His sweet Kasia lay stretched on the floor, undoubtedly felled by Amestris’s wrath. Why had he not been alerted? No, her servants lay about the room too. Had she ordered them all slain?
His hands shook. His stomach clenched. His vision blurred. Then his spine went stiff and his chin came up. She would pay. She would pay for Kasia’s life with her own and—
The figures on the floor shifted as the noise of his entrance hit them. All but Kasia. One of her wide-eyed servants leaned close to her, though, and said, “Mistress, the king.”
She was well. Not dead, not injured. She leapt to her feet with that enthusiasm he loved and raced toward him.
He met her in the middle of the room and closed his arms around her. “My love. She sent me the torc. I thought—I feared—”
Shaking her head against his chest, Kasia hugged him tight. “I am unharmed.”
“Not for lack of trying on the queen’s part.” One of the maidservants stepped forward, and her eyes burned with fury. “Her food was poisoned, master. Hemlock. Had she taken a sip, a bite . . .”
Kasia pulled away enough to send her maid a mild glare. “We know not that it was on her order.”
“Yes, we do.” Xerxes’ hand still shook as he lifted it to her cheek, but not with grief or fear now. With rage, pure and hot. “She has tried me enough. Her arrogance I can tolerate, but to disobey me in front of all the world because she is angry with me—to try to kill you! I will not suffer it. She will pay for this with her life.”
“Father, no!” Darius rushed forward, his distress coating his face.
It put not so much as a dent in Xerxes’ determination. The boy would be better off without his mother’s poisonous influence.
Kasia shook her head and splayed a hand on his chest. “Xerxes, please. She is the mother of four of your children, will soon deliver another.”
“Her execution can be stayed until after the birth, then.”
“My love, no. Act in haste now and you will regret it forever.”
He doubted that. “She tried to kill you.”
“She was angry, as you are now. But my God was watching over me, and he kept me from tasting the poisoned food. No harm has been done. And though her reaction was wrong, her feeling was justified.”
He tipped her chin up with a finger. “Do you rebuke me, woman?”
No fear entered her eyes, though he read respect within them. More than could ever be said for Amestris. “Punish me for it if you must—my life is worth far less than hers. I have no children to mourn me.”
Darius stepped forward with a worried frown. “You would take on yourself the wrath intended for your enemy? It makes no sense.”
She did not so much as glance at his son. “Forgiveness is not logical. But it heals the wounds left by bitterness and hatred.”
Xerxes sighed and lifted her hand to kiss her fingers. “I cannot forgive her. She would have stolen you from me, solely because she knows how it would pierce. But this crime was against you, and no one outside this room knows of it. If you wish her mercy, then mercy she shall receive. For this. But she publically disobeyed me. If I ignore that offense, everyone will whisper that Xerxes is a weak man ruled by his women.”
Zethar inclined his head. “And their wives, master, will remember that the queen greeted your servants with anger and defamed you before them all. They will use it as an excuse to act the same.”
“Your advisers on the law are right outside,” Masistes said. “Hear their counsel before you make your decision on a punishment.”
Xerxes nodded at the eunuch nearest the door, who motioned his advisers into the room. The seven of them filed in, the men of soundest wisdom and highest birth below the princes. Most of them had advised his father before him.
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