Why? Why did he hate them so? Yes, he was an Agagite. Yes, centuries ago the Jews had all but destroyed his people. What did that have to do with
now
, with the people who made Susa flourish, who had prayed them through war and disaster?
What did that have to do with his wife—his wives, apparently—and their families?
He seethed to a halt at the bolt of realization. Haman had always disliked the Jews, but it had been of little import before he wed Kasia and took an interest in them for her sake. He had watered the seed of hatred as he poured favor upon her and hers.
He should have paid attention. Should have realized it was not merely disdain. Why had he not listened to Kasia’s grumbles about that?
Because he had been guilty—guilty of killing Masistes, Haman’s closest friend.
It was his own fault. He had brought this upon them. And now he would have to figure out a way to save the Jews. To save Kasia, if she lived long enough to be saved.
And Esther.
He turned, stared at the window to her rooms. He still needed a few answers from Esther.
He strode back through the gardens, back into her banquet, then came to a halt when he saw Haman across her lap and horror on her face. Familiar red tinged his vision. “Will he also assault the queen?”
Haman jolted up, tear-streaked and shattered. Terror consumes his countenance—and well it should. Xerxes charged across the chamber and plowed a fist into his face, satisfied when the beast sprawled on the floor.
One of Esther’s eunuchs stepped forward with a smirk. He pointed to the window that overlooked Susa. “Look, master. Even now in Haman’s house are gallows, fifty cubits high—he had them built for Mordecai.”
He stared at the man he had called brother. Nothing but reviling filled him. He leaned down long enough to rip his signet from the wretch’s finger. “Hang him on it.”
The servants smiled as they grabbed him and dragged him screaming from the room.
When the racket died down, Xerxes turned to Esther. “And you. How can you call yourself my wife, my queen, yet hide who you are from me?”
She folded her hands peacefully in her lap, as if nothing in the world could disturb her. And blast it if that peace did not try to curl into him too, to soothe the ragged edges of his soul.
He pushed it away and folded his arms across his chest.
Esther drew in an easy breath. “Had my heritage been known, I would not
be
your wife and queen.”
“You wanted the crown so badly that you lied to get it? You, who I always thought above such ambitions?”
Hurt flashed in her eyes, but the calm smothered it. “It had nothing to do with ambition, only with obeying the will of Jehovah. Do you think he did not know all along it would come to this? Haman would have executed his plan regardless of who your queen was. If it were not me, who then would have spoken to you?”
He spun away, plunged a hand into his hair. Her questions did not bear considering—the answers were all too apparent. Had Esther not spoken, he would have remained in his cloud of oblivion until the guard arrived to hack Kasia to pieces.
He shuddered and faced her again. “Even so. You could have told me at some point, after you were queen.”
Her lips curved up. “My husband, if I were going to risk your wrath, it was going to be for a purpose.”
He opened his mouth to rebut that, but movement in his periphery captured his attention. He turned—and his words died on his lips.
Kasia gripped the post of the door. “If you are going to be angry, my love, be angry with
me
. I am as guilty of this deception as Esther is.”
Xerxes could only stare.
~*~
Kasia willed strength into her stiff limbs and motioned her servants to stay back. If she must face her husband on this, she would not do it leaning on Desma or Theron. Jehovah would be support enough.
The screams had jarred her from her stupor, screams she knew well—Haman’s. The same screams that had sounded before the mountainside rushed at her in Sardis. And as they rent the air, the gentle shackles holding her down released.
She had all but flown here on her unsteady legs.
“Kasia.” Xerxes breathed it as if uncertain of what his eyes beheld.
Unable to ignore the desperation in his voice, she took a step inside. Her knees protested, and she wobbled. In the next moment, her husband’s arms were around her.
“My love.” His voice shook, as did the hand that stroked her hair. “I feared you would never wake again.”
“As did I, at first. But it was the work of Jehovah, Xerxes. He held me protected in his embrace to spare me Haman’s scheme.”
He shuddered and pulled her closer still. “To think I could have lost you to one of my own decrees . . .”
She tilted her face to him for the brief, intense brush of his lips. “Jehovah had a plan in place.” She pulled away enough to look past him, to where Esther had taken to her feet. “I am proud of you, my sister.”
Esther inclined her head. Humble, even in perfect confidence. “I did only what you would have done.”
“You did what I could not. Had the Lord not held me immobile, Haman would have killed me and blamed it on the Jews to rouse the king’s anger against them.”
Xerxes stiffened. “Impossible.”
“He confessed it to me, that first day. I could hear, even if I could not respond. You have proven before how far you will go to avenge me.” She searched his gaze, praying he would finally believe her. “And he tried before. In Sardis. He is the one who pushed me from that wall, I am sure of it.”
“I have no reason to doubt you now.” He sighed and led her over to Esther’s couch. “Sit before you fall.”
She obliged. When Esther sat beside her, she gripped her friend’s hand.
Xerxes eyed them warily. “So then. You knew all along she was a Jew.”
Esther smiled. “We were neighbors. Best of friends.”
“She was told I was dead. Neither of us knew what became of the other until she arrived here.”
Each muscle of Xerxes’ face hardened. “And instead of letting me rejoice with you over reuniting with this dearest friend, you shut me out. You lied to me, both of you.”
Esther’s fingers squeezed hers. Kasia drew in a long breath. “Yes. We did.”
He leveled an accusing finger at her. “You—you swore you would never play at intrigue. But you manipulated me for your own purposes.”
A dozen defenses sprang to her tongue—that he had told her to pick the next queen, and she had chosen wisely. That he had done far worse to her, and she had forgiven him. Every time, she had forgiven him.
But if he were to forgive her, it could not be because he owed it to her.
She bit back all but one truth. “Not for my own purposes, my love. For the Lord’s.”
“She only went along with what Mordecai and I decided.” Esther squared her shoulders and intercepted their husband’s gaze. Quiet strength pulsed from her.
Xerxes frowned. “What does Mordecai have to do with this?”
“He is my cousin—my guardian.”
He turned his back on them, mumbling something Kasia could not make out as he paced the length of the room. When he stomped back, his face was set in a rare emotionless mask. “And you will not even apologize?”
Esther lifted her chin. “I am sorry, my husband. Sorry this was necessary. Sorry I had to deceive you to assure the safety of my people. Sorry if it hurt you.”
“But not sorry you did it.” He turned his gaze on Kasia. “And you?”
Tears stung her eyes. “You have known all along I will obey Jehovah above you—even when that comes between us. But I hope you will forgive me. And Esther, especially—she made the decision before she knew you. I am the one who did it knowing full well how it would hurt you.”
He blinked rapidly, drew in a hard breath.
“Master,” Zethar said from the doorway, “Mordecai the Jew is here. Shall I show him in?”
Xerxes muttered a mild oath. “Why not? It seems he played quite a role in this as well.”
A second later, Mordecai entered. “I saw them drag Haman toward the gallows he—Kasia. You are well.” Relief saturated his tone, but no surprise.
She offered a tight smile. “I imagine you prayed for me, as you always do. Thank you.”
Her husband’s jaw ticked. “You are more concerned for her health than whether your
daughter
has been forgiven? It begs a question I have done my best to ignore all these years—why it is always our friend Mordecai that Jehovah asks to pray for Kasia?”
Kasia drew in a deep breath.
Mordecai smiled. Whatever his answer, he seemed at peace with it. “Perhaps because I love her. Or perhaps I love her so that I could pray her through these years with dedication. Either way, there is no need to be jealous—Jehovah also ordained that she be yours. I never held her heart.”
“It is true.” Esther grinned and patted Kasia’s hand. “From the moment we first saw you at the river, you were the only one she loved.”
Xerxes’ eyes went wide. “
We
? You were the one with her?” He hissed out a breath and folded his arms again. “It seems the bunch of you are one tightly knit lot. Bound together against me.”
“Not against you.” Kasia stood, silently praising the Lord when her legs carried her to him without argument. “We were bound together
for
you, my love, to strengthen you.” She reached out and laced her fingers through his. “Still. Punish me if you must.”
He held her gaze for a long moment—so much passed between them, hard times and perfect moments both. All the pain, all the betrayal. All the faith and love. His face softened as he lifted her hand to his lips. “You know I cannot. I might as well rip my own heart out.”
Adoration sang through her at the feel of his mouth on her fingers. “Then I ask you again to choose to forgive me. To forgive us.”
He gazed long into her eyes, and then turned his face to Esther. He motioned toward his servants. “Let it be written that on this day, the king gives the house of Haman over to Queen Esther.”
Esther blinked back tears. “Thank you. I will put my cousin in charge of it. But . . . it is not enough.”
Xerxes lifted a brow. “Not enough? Will you finally ask for a city to go along with it?”
Instead of seizing the jest, Esther fell to her knees at his feet. Tears streamed onto her cheeks. “Hanging Haman, giving me his belongings will not undo the damage he has done. He sealed the decree against my people with your signet. Please—please, find a way to undo the evil he devised.”
Kasia’s gaze fell onto the scepter sitting on the table beside her. She picked it up and handed it to Xerxes.
A decision that would save a nation called for ceremony.
He gave her a lopsided smile in exchange for the length of gold and held it out above Esther. “Rise, my queen.”
She stood and wiped the moisture from her eyes. “If it pleases you, let a new law be written to counteract the letter of Haman. Otherwise, forgiving me means nothing.”
Xerxes nodded and glanced over his shoulder. “Mordecai. Come forward.”
Kasia turned to watch her old friend obey his king.
~*~
What could he intend? Mordecai pushed the question, the doubt from his mind and moved to stand beside Esther. The king had forgiven her deception—as for whether he had forgiven the fact that Mordecai loved his favorite wife . . .
He did not look angry as he slid an arm around Kasia, though. Satisfied and determined, but no longer angry.
Mordecai drew in a long breath and bowed his head. “Your humble servant, my lord.”
“Yes, I know. For years you have sat faithfully in the gates to hear the complaints of your people for me. For years, you have prayed for me, for my empire, for my family. Your daughter is right. The house of Haman is not sufficient.” The king tugged something from his finger. He offered it in an outstretched palm.
Mordecai stared at the signet. “My lord?”
“Write the decree, Mordecai, concerning the Jews. Sign it in my name and seal it with my ring.”
Was he serious? Mordecai studied Xerxes’ familiar face, Kasia’s smile, Esther’s shoulders, straight and strong under the burden of their people.
When the Lord asked him to represent the Jews, to take in his uncle’s child, to open his eyes to his neighbor’s daughter, he had never expected it would lead him here.
But Jehovah had known.
He reached out and slowly took the ring. “I will use the authority you give me wisely, my king. We shall send out a decree that the Jews are permitted to protect themselves against their enemies on the day intended for destruction. When the people realize the king is on our side, few will dare stand against us. And those who do will have to face Zechariah and his men. I do not envy them that.”
“Nor do I. Let it be so.” Xerxes angled a smile to Kasia. “And now that we have the pressing business resolved, I suspect someone would like to meet her newest daughter.”