do it in. If you could rise, Kasia, we need measurements for a new wardrobe. Then you must have your first treatments in oil of myrrh.”
She swung her legs out of the bed and planted her feet on the floor, even as questions swirled through her mind. “I have heard about these preparations. They are a year in total, are they not?”
“Usually, yes.” Hegai sighed and motioned a man forward. She assumed him to be a tailor, given the string he held up to her. “But not in your case. The king granted me a week, and I had to beg for that much.”
She nearly fell back onto the bed. “A week? I . . . but . . . why?”
Hegai shrugged and motioned more servants to the bath sunken into the floor. “I do not presume to know the mind of the king. Perhaps it is because he anticipates leaving soon for his campaign against Greece and wishes to make you his wife beforehand.”
The room rocked around her. “What did Haman tell him about me?”
“I know not, but he need only speak the truth to capture the king’s attention.” Though his gaze turned critical, she saw satisfaction within it.
Kasia forced herself to swallow. “Who was the other man? The one with Haman when they first saw me?”
He motioned more servants to the other side of the room, where they set out dish after dish of aromatic food. Her stomach knotted in protest. “I am not certain,” he said. “Probably Masistes, the king’s younger brother. He and Haman often ride together.”
Masistes. She wanted to ask if she would ever have cause to meet him in the palace but did not dare. What was the point? She needed to purge her mind of thoughts of any other men. Michael, Mordecai, Masistes. Dwelling on any of them would only make her circumstances worse.
The door swung open again. She looked that way, expecting more servants, with more things that she would not know what to do with. But the first two who entered were empty-handed, and they stepped to each side of the doorway once through. Three more figures entered then. Servants on the ends, but in the middle glided a glimmering woman.
Hegai fell to his knee. “Queen Atossa. I did not expect you in the women’s house today.”
The queen mother? Kasia dropped to the floor along with the tailor, feeling blood warm her cheeks.
The queen’s laugh sounded sweet and amused. “I could not resist a visit when I heard about the unusual circumstances of the newest addition. Rise, please.”
Kasia waited for Hegai to obey before following suit. Careful to keep her chin at a respectful angle, she gave into curiosity and gazed at the matriarch of Persia. A daughter of Cyrus the Great, it was her influence that assured Xerxes would be king, rather than Darius’s older son by another wife. The whisperers called Atossa all-powerful. What were the chances that she would be an ally?
The woman smiled. “Your name is Kasia, I hear. My son is very much intrigued by you.”
She was unsure which son the queen mother referred to, but it seemed ill-advised to ask. “I am but your humble servant, my queen.”
“Today, perhaps. But soon enough you will be a consort to the king of kings. You have been here only a few hours, my child, yet already you have friends and enemies. Learning who is who is more important than oil of myrrh.” With a flick of her wrist, she sent servants scurrying out of her way so that she could float forward. When she paused, one of them pulled forward a chair, which she sat upon without so much as glancing behind to check its position.
The wrist motioned to her, and Kasia sank down onto the bed. She knew no chair had appeared behind her. “I am grateful for any advice the queen can give me.”
Atossa acknowledged her with a minuscule nod. “Wine.” As a servant dashed to the corner of the room, the queen folded her bejeweled hands in her lap. “You are a Jew, which accounts for some of your enemies. Haman in particular detests your people. Not surprising, since he is an Agagite.”
Kasia’s brows pulled down, but she pressed her lips together.
“You are wondering, then, why he encouraged the king to add you to his harem?” Atossa loosed a dry laugh. “He expects you to stumble, to displease my notoriously impulsive son, and so to provide the king with reason to punish your whole people.”
The world fell upon her shoulders in a suffocating burden. Perhaps tonight she could slip out of the palace and disappear forever.
“In addition,” Atossa continued, “your presence has already enraged Queen Amestris. She is a jealous woman, especially of young virgins half her age who have caught the eye of her husband. She is a queen—she understands that her husband’s wealth is measured in sons and wives as well as gold. So long as she is certain her son will be the next king, she is docile enough. But his impatience where you are concerned has labeled you a threat. Tread lightly when around her, and avoid her whenever you may.”
Much more easily done if she were nowhere near the palace. Egypt was a temperate place, was it not? Perhaps she could hitch a ride with a caravan.
“However.” Here the queen paused and gave her a smile that seemed . . . motherly. Warm. Sincere. “You have friends as well. I am always pleased to welcome anyone who angers Amestris, as are most of the other wives. Keep your hand soft and your demands few, and the servants will respond well to you. Since you will see us more than anyone else in the palace once you leave the house of women and join the house of wives, those ought to be your priorities.”
Kasia could only nod.
Atossa breathed a laugh. “All women new to the palace have questions. You may ask yours—you have no time to learn the answers on your own.”
The servant who fetched the queen’s wine handed a cup to Kasia as well. She took a sip, grateful for the time to gather her thoughts. So many of them swarmed that she barely knew where to begin. “I understand that I ought to make the queen mother and other wives my friends, where possible. But what of the king? Ought I not try to please him as well?”
The queen’s smile went patronizing. “My child, that is a task no one woman can accomplish. He is eager to have you, and you may hold his attention for a while. A week, a month at the outmost. If you are lucky, you will produce a child, which guarantees another visit from the king. But there are always new virgins finishing their year of preparation. Discontented wives of absent nobles to seduce. The destruction of rival empires to plot.”
“He sounds horrible.” The moment the word slipped out, she slapped a hand over her mouth and prayed Jehovah would strike her dead here and now.
Atossa laughed. “Your opinion is not unexpected, given your upbringing. He is not horrible, child, he is . . . the king. His attention is by necessity fractured. He must be many things to many people. To his wives, he is at once the axis around which you turn and a star afar off in the night. Do what you can to please him, Kasia, or at least to keep from angering him. But know that whatever you find with him, it will be fleeting. That is the way of things. Life here, for all its polish and sparkle, is largely uneventful unless you fall into a scandal.” She leaned forward, eyes gleaming. “Which I would not advise.”
The advice seemed unnecessary—until Masistes’ teasing gaze filled her mind’s eye. “Noted. Duly. I shall . . .” What? Resign herself to a life of nothingness? She was not so sure she could. But she would not dishonor her father, her husband, and her God by
