A Reluctant Queen (12 page)
Esther did not see Ahasuerus during the month that was given over to wedding preparations. Hegai told her that the king had left for Babylon to deal with some problem that had arisen there, and all they knew was that he would return before the day of the wedding.
Her bridegroom’s absence had not made the wait easier for Esther. She had met him once, for an hour, and now she was going to marry him. She had no idea what it meant to be married to a king. If she had been marrying one of her own people, if she had been marrying Abraham, she would have understood what her position was, what her relationship to her husband would be, what duties she would be expected to perform. She would know what to occupy herself with during the day. What did a queen do?
She had no answer for that question, and when she was told on the day before the wedding that the king had returned to Susa and wished to have dinner with her, she thought she would faint she was so filled with panic.
She asked Hathach to escort her. He and Luara were the only two people in the enormous palace with whom she felt comfortable, so, even though it annoyed Hegai, she insisted that she wanted Hathach. He took her through the harem door into the king’s apartments, down the bedroom corridor, and into a small dining room that opened off the King’s Court.
Inside the room there was a table, exquisitely laid with cups and ewers and plates of purest gold. Two beautifully carved chairs were set on opposite sides of the table. The small page standing beside the table came forward and said to Hathach, “The Lady Esther is to be seated. The Great King will join her shortly.”
Hathach pulled out one of the chairs for Esther and when she was seated, he said softly, “I will await you in the court.” Both child and eunuch exited through the billowing curtains, leaving Esther to await her future husband.
She sat alone in the room, stiffly upright, her spine not touching the back of her chair. In an attempt to quell the terror she felt rising inside her like an incoming tide, she forced herself to count the number of green bricks in the wall mosaic directly opposite her. On the count of two hundred and three, the curtains parted and Ahasuerus walked in.
Esther began to rise, hoping her legs would not collapse under her. The king gestured for her to remain in her seat and came to drop a light kiss upon her brow. His lips were cool against her skin and he smelled faintly of spice. “I must apologize for my prolonged absence,” he said in his soft, slightly drawling voice. “I did not mean to vanish for so long a time, but it could not be helped.”
He really is this beautiful
, Esther thought as she gazed up into his face.
I was beginning to think that I had imagined it
.
“It has been a difficult month,” she replied, speaking the truth because she didn’t know what else to say.
He took the seat across the table from her and said with facile sympathy, “I am sorry to hear that. What has been the problem?”
“Well . . . there is so much protocol to learn, my lord.” She looked down at her plate, then back up again and confessed, “I am convinced I am bound to do something so dreadful that you will order my head chopped off.”
His gray-green eyes glinted with amusement. “What could possibly merit such dire retribution?”
“I might step on your purple carpet,” she said.
The curtains parted and several pages came in laden down with platters of food. Persian meals were always served all at once rather than in separate courses, so the table was soon covered with everything from meats and vegetables to fruits and sweets.
As the pages were unloading their trays, Ahasuerus said, “You have my permission to walk upon my carpet, Esther. And after we are married, no one will dare to question you about the propriety of what you do. You will be the queen.”
Far from reassuring her, his words only served to intensify her terror. Fighting back tears, Esther stared hard at a steaming dish of chicken and did not reply. Ahasuerus said to the pages, “You may leave. We will serve ourselves.”
After the pages had gone, he sat for a moment in silence and Esther could feel him looking at her. Then he said quietly, “What is wrong?”
Esther drew a shaky breath but still did not look up from the chicken dish. “I am afraid,” she said, and rubbed a nervous finger along the edge of her empty golden plate.
“Of stepping on my purple carpet?”
She shook her head and answered with all the desolation in her heart, “Of everything.”
He leaned back in his chair, his hands resting lightly upon the carved arms. After a time, when he still did not speak, Esther dared to glance up. Their eyes met and held, and for some reason she did not understand, her heart began to hurry its beat.
“There is nothing to fear, Esther,” he said. There was no amusement in his eyes now; they were perfectly grave. “I will take care of you. Trust me.”
She looked back at him, her fingers plucking nervously at a napkin. He reached across the table and put his slim, strong, horseman’s hand over her restless fingers.
“Will you do that?” he asked.
She took a deep breath. “I will try.”
A
Persian royal marriage was a state occasion in which the bride played a very small part. The wedding day began with the king riding in his gold-plated chariot through the streets of Susa, followed by an impressive cadre of Magi, the name given to Persian priests. The Royal Bodyguard marched in full regalia, and thousands turned out to cheer and to strew flowers under the wheels of the king’s chariot.
The marriage feast itself took place in the Apanada, the huge open-air platform off the rear of the palace. For the king’s wedding it had been transformed into a huge pavilion: Silken curtains hung from golden rods between Darius’ great cedar columns, and the floor was covered with carpets of purple, scarlet, and gold. A hundred silver-footed divans had been installed for the guests to take their ease upon.
In the center of the pavilion was the bridal tent itself, to which only the King’s Magi, the Head Eunuch, and the immediate families of the bridal couple had been invited. Esther had insisted that Mordecai be included in this guest list, and eventually Hegai had agreed and sent him an invitation.
While the king was processing through Susa, Esther was in the Queen’s Apartment being dressed by Muran and an assortment of maids. When she was finally ready, they had to wait until she was summoned by one of the king’s pages. As the time for her entrance drew near, Esther felt a kind of numbness settle over her. Her emotions had been so overwrought for such a long time that she simply couldn’t feel anything anymore.
Waiting in the room with her were Muran, Luara, her grandfather, and Hathach. Her grandfather spent the time amusing himself by throwing a set of decorated cubes on one of the wine tables. Hathach stood in a corner, looking stoic. Luara kept throwing her anxious looks, and Muran periodically fussed with a pleat on her already perfect white tunic.
At last a knock came upon the door and Hathach opened it to admit a page, who announced: “The king and his party have reached the bridal tent and are finishing drinking the healths. The Lady Esther is to make her entrance.”
“I would like a little water.” They were Esther’s first words in a long time.
Muran filled a silver cup a quarter-full with water from an ewer. “Don’t drink too much,” she warned. “You can’t leave to go to the lavatory.”
Esther wet her mouth, took two swallows, and handed the cup back.
“The escort is here in the hallway, my lord Arses,” the page said.
“Fix her veil,” Arses said to Muran, who settled a golden coronet draped with gossamer silk on the crown of Esther’s head. Her sight blurred and she narrowed her eyes, trying to see through the filmy material. Then her grandfather took her hand, placed it firmly upon his arm, and walked her to the door.
The trip to the Apanada seemed short to Esther; before she knew it, she was following the two rows of little boys into the silk-hung pavilion that had been created for the wedding day. The stares of the hundreds of male guests reclining on the divans hit her like a blow, and she clutched her grandfather’s arm.
“Steady, Granddaughter,” Arses whispered. “Almost there.”
Next the pages formed up to make an aisle on either side of the scarlet runner that led to the open flap of the bridal tent. At a stately pace, Arses walked Esther between the solemn-faced little boys. The gathered guests were silent as they watched her progress; the only sound was the soft rustle of the blowing silk draperies.
How can this be happening to me?
Esther felt her heart fluttering in her throat, and when they entered the bridal tent and were greeted by a musical salute from the king’s flute players, she actually jumped.
Arses made a soothing sound, the sort of sound he probably used to quiet a nervous horse.
From behind her veil Esther searched the tent, seeking only one person. She found him finally, sitting beside Hegai. His grave, intelligent eyes were watching her, and he must have felt her eyes because he suddenly gave a reassuring smile.
Uncle Mordecai!
Esther felt a rush of relief. Somehow it made it easier that he was here.
They were now approaching the focal point of the tent, the king’s golden chair. She saw that Ahasuerus had risen and was coming to meet her. Esther felt her grandfather’s hand on her head. He pulled her veil off and the men in the tent, all members of the Royal Kin, saw her face for the first time.
Esther looked at Ahasuerus. He was wearing his golden crown, which made him look taller and more forbidding. He bent his head and kissed her lightly on the mouth. Esther had not expected that, and she almost jumped again. Then the king allowed Arses to give him the greeting of kinship, a kiss upon the cheek. Finally he took her hand into his and led her to the smaller chair that had been placed beside his. They did not sit, however, but stood in front of the chairs facing the door. Esther clutched the hand holding hers, needing support, and Ahasuerus tightened his grip.
The flute players fell silent.
A tall, thin man wearing the distinctively patterned robe of the Magi approached the bridal couple. On a plain silver tray he bore a single loaf of bread. He knelt and Xerxes formally offered Ahasuerus his sword. With one swift slash of the razor edge, the king cut the bridal loaf. Xerxes received the sword back and Ahasuerus turned to Esther with a piece of the bread in his hands.
“I, Ahasuerus, pledge to you, Esther, the power of my sword and the strength of my body, to protect and provide for you and your children. From this moment on, I will be your husband and you will be my wife.”
He extended the bread to Esther, who took it into her hands, which were only shaking a little. She raised it to her mouth and bit off a tiny piece. After she had chewed and swallowed, she made the reply she had memorized: “I, Esther, pledge to you, Ahasuerus, the faithfulness of my body and the honor of your name. From this moment on, you will be my husband and I will be your wife.” Her voice was low, but clear enough to be heard around the tent.
The Royal Singers began to chant the wedding song. The guests applauded. The additional guests in the outer pavilion were informed that the vows had been completed and they applauded as well. Servants came in with platters of food and jugs of wine. The feasting began.
Esther could not swallow a morsel. She drank a cup of wine because her grandfather had told her it would give her courage, but all it did was make her feel dizzy and a little sick. It was hot and stuffy in the tent, and the noise of the music and the talking was giving her a headache. She was thoroughly miserable, but when Ahasuerus leaned over and said in her ear, “It is time for us to retire,” she didn’t want to leave.
She put her hand into the hand the king was holding out to her and felt his rings press into her fingers. This time she kept her return grip loose. She rose with him and glanced once more toward her uncle, whose face was looking grim.
Arses came forward and replaced the veil upon Esther’s head. The Royal Singers lifted their voices and, led by twelve pages, Esther walked with Ahasuerus out of the bridal tent, along the scarlet runner, down the steps, and into the palace. The king said something to the pages and the little boys all prostrated themselves, then all but two of them scattered.
“Your women are waiting for you in the Queen’s Apartment,” Ahasuerus said to Esther.