The Banished Queen Read online

  “Haman,” I say.

  He nods his head in greeting.

  “I trust the king slept well,” he inquires.

  The memories of last night come rushing to my mind. I tighten my jaw to tame the urge to snarl at the thought of the restlessness that made me toss and turn in bed the night before. Despite the company of one of my favorite concubines, Delorah, my mood has not much changed. I have dismissed her quickly after she has served her purpose.

  “Yes, quite well,” I lie.

  His eyes glance over me unhesitatingly. He does not pause to linger at the bags underneath my eyes. Much to my relief, my lie is unnoticed.

  “Have you sighted any of the candidates so far?”

  “No. I think it best to keep my distance . . . until their year is up of course.”

  Haman hums and nods his head in agreement. “Very wise, my king. Though, I did have an idea that I thought might interest you.”

  I arch my eyebrow, my curiosity piqued. “What is it?” I ask.

  “Perhaps, after your duties, we can host a banquet with the princes and court officials. I propose we invite the candidates. It will give them a chance to see the best the palace has to offer . . . and ease any tension the king may have regarding the virgins.”

  He pushes a scrawny hand through his dark hair as I ponder his suggestion. It would be a chance to see her again. A thin smile begins to form on my lips, but I restrain myself from grinning too broadly.

  * * *

  I pretend to sip my wine as my eyes follow her every move. She laughs, her dress whipping the ground and flowing briefly in the air as the wind blows past her. I continue to eat from the various foods brimming from platters set before me. There are so many beautiful girls sitting down on each side of the table, which is placed here in the center of the garden, but only one has me glancing back for more.

  Time seems to drift by slowly. I nod my head as someone mutters in my ear, but I don’t hear what they say. My thoughts are on her and her only. She glances at me shyly and I avert my eyes. When her face abruptly changes expressions,I focus in on her words. She seems upset. Then, I notice that Haman is speaking to her. When I hear the apology tumbling out of her mouth, I raise my hand.

  “Stop!”

  The table goes silent. All eyes travel my way.

  She finally looks at me. I let my eyes drift towards her beaming irises. She looks breathtaking. Her lip quivers slightly and I quickly smile at her,

  hoping to reassure her that everything is okay. I don’t know why I feel the need to help her. Why do I care about her feelings?

  “She’s fine. In fact, if I have to eat another meal looking at your face, Haman, I think I might make her my advisor instead of you!”

  Laughter abounds around the table. Relief floods me as I see her countenance improve. Her nerves have dissipated.

  “I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” she whispers. “I was unaware that you are seated here.”

  I feel my lips crack and I utter a soft laugh, disguising the pain that pricked my chest at her reply.

  “Am I that ordinary that you didn’t notice me?”

  “Of course not, majesty. I was distracted!”

  “I saw that,” I mutter as I reach for my goblet and raise the wine to my lips. Some of my men surrounding me interrupt our conversation and I lean my lips toward their ears and pretend to be amused by their meaningless words. Nothing my men say can shake her eyes from burning into my skin. She seems to relax soon enough as conversations around her continue, the focus on her shifting.

  She eats slowly, her lips moving in such a way that I am envious of the food. Time slips by far too quickly because before I know it, a familiar voice calls out from the balcony steps. When I turn my head to the direction of the sound, I see Haggai looming above the garden his eyes dark and narrow. The candidates respond to his summoning and Esther begins to rise. Without thinking, I lurch forward and wrap my fingers around her slender wrist.

  “Are you going to leave before you even get to see the garden?”

  She looks at me from underneath those long dark lashes.

  “I am being called away, Your Majesty,” she struggles to say.

  “Several would kill for a chance to see my garden. You may never get another opportunity. The next woman to have access to it will be my queen. Come, let me show you what the others have not yet seen.”

  She nods reluctantly and a nervous laugh slips from her plump lips. I squeeze her hand as I lead her away from the table. I know this garden like the back of my hand. Beyond the castle walls and balcony structures, we slip out of view. As we tred across the blooming grass, we duck underneath the haven of trees twisting together like a canopy.

  I hear her sigh behind me. It turns into an airy laugh. I slacken my hold on her hand, but I make sure not to let her go. I stoop my back lower, trying to evade the low branches. The path is narrow at this particular part and the limbs claw at us .

  “Your Majesty?”

  “Almost there,” I reassure her.

  We take only a few more steps before the path opens up to the secret garden. I release her hand and my skin begins to burn from missing the tender sensation of her skin. My eyes land intently on hers and I begin to watch her as I circle around the barrier of trees.

  “It’s beautiful,” she says softly, as if afraid to disturb the atmosphere with her voice.

  I smile at her. “I come here to be alone. It’s the only place where I cannot be bothered. By law, if anyone disturbs me here, they are sentenced to death.”

  “Oh!” Her eyes widen in surprise.

  Her soft response coaxes a warm laugh from me. “Not to fear, though. You are my special guest. I thought since you like forbidden spaces that you might be intrigued with it here. Was I right?”

  Each step I make brings us closer to each other[LT1]. Her eyes widen the closer I get and I cast a crooked grin her way.

  “I’m sorry about that, Your Highness. If I had known it was you—”

  “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. You had no idea that it was me. You’re not at fault in this situation. I didn’t want you having any nightmares.”

  Does she regret meeting me? Was she disappointed when she realized that the man she was speaking to in the darkness was me?

  “If I offended you with anything I said about Queen Vashti, my lord, I do apologize. Sometimes my tongue gets the better of me.”

  “I do not doubt that it does. I still mourn her, I do, but Persia needs another queen. So, I have to move on.”

  Her eyebrows knit together, her stare more intense. “Do you not want a wife?”

  I sigh. Should I tell her the truth? I don’t owe her anything. Yet somehow, I feel compelled to. “I do not possess the privilege of getting what I want. Persia insists that I give her another queen, and I am Persia’s servant.” No one ever realizes that the crown can be as heavy as shackles and the palace suffocating as a prison cell.

  “I never thought that a king could be a servant.”

  “And I never thought that a peasant could speak so boldly.”

  The pink that blooms on her cheeks makes my heartbeat quicken.

  “There are many girls here for your choosing. I’m sure Persia will be satisfied with your choice, my lord.”

  I close in on her, getting even closer when I take one more step. “Do you have any recommendations?”

  With her so close to me, I am sure she can feel my heated breath as it escapes my lips. I want to know if she is going as crazy as I am. The slightest sign would alleviate so much of the tension which is holding my mind hostage.

  “It would depend on the type of queen you are looking for,” she whispers.

  “I told you, one that is not like Vashti.” I breathe.

  She shakes her head.

  “What?” I ask.

  She draws in her lips and stumbles backward. I match her footsteps and follow her.

  “You know I can command you to tell me,” I tease, although it
might make things easier. I could unlock the secrets she keeps within that head of hers and all my worries would vanish. But I know that she will never freely open up to me if I push her too hard. I do not want to use my power over her. I want her to respond to me because of me—not because of the crown I wear.

  “I have no recommendations for you.”

  She lurches backward again.

  “Are there no good women here then?”

  “It’s not that,” she counters.

  “Then what is it?!”

  With one effortless stride, I trap her against the brush of the trees, giving her no way of escape. She is pinned with me as her only boundary. There is nowhere for her to hide now.

  “I do not know what Vashti was like. How can I compare her to others?”

  “I see.” I turn my back to her and as I give her space, I hear her sigh in relief. My eyes catch the sun sparkling against the brimming water at the center of the garden. I make my way toward the well.

  “But if you tell me what kind of queen you would like, maybe then I could be useful to you.”

  “I’ll let you know,” I spew at her.

  The last thing I want to do is recount Vashti’s qualities. I just want to forget her altogether. How am I supposed to move on when the very mention of her is my undoing? Frustration begins to thicken the blood pumping in my veins. I sink the tips of my fingers into the cool water as I muse over everything in my head. I deserve to be undone for the betrayal I committed against the person I thought I would spend forever with. I do not deserve love and happiness. Loving me is dangerous.

  Part 5

  Ailments

  I can see her clearly. Her perfectly sculpted hips sway as she walks in front of me. The wind sweeps past her gown and tousles her hair. She twirls around and chuckles lightly. Her fingers comb through her hair as she steadies her gaze on me. I smile at her and take a long stride forward, but she lurches back, stealing further into the grass.

  “Vashti,” I try to shout but it comes out only in a hoarse whisper.

  She shakes her head at me while bunching up the fabric at her sides into two fists.

  “If you want me you are going to have to catch me!”

  Then she is gone. Her laughter echoes around me in an eerily familiar way. I climb the slippery hill as my eyes scan every direction in search of any sign of her.

  “Vashti,” I screech from the hilltop.

  * * *

  “Vashti!”

  My eyes peel open and I heave a sigh of relief as I settle back into reality. It was just a dream. A distorted memory. I press my palms into the bed beside me, forcing myself up. The room is dimly lit with dwindling torches hanging from the walls. I can see the shadow of my guards slipping underneath my chamber doors.

  My eyelids sag with the heavy need to sleep but I am too afraid to close my eyes. She might appear again. The guilt and regret I have been suppressing for weeks will surface and consume me if I am not careful. In a swift motion, I throw my covers off of me and slide out of bed. I free a torch from its place on the wall and grip it steadily in one hand.

  Before I know where my feet are taking me, I am thrusting the door open and exiting the concealed passageway. It was the first thing to come to mind and the only door connected to my chambers that would allow me to escape the guards and the eyes constantly watching me, at least, that is what I told myself as I traveled through the dank pathway toward the harem.

  One face can shine through the dark memories of my past. Only one face can instantly calm the raging sea of thoughts in my mind. I need to see her again. If only for a moment, because a moment of peace is all I crave when I am battling against myself. The corridors are empty. I let my torch hang low as I meander past the columns and chambers filled with sleeping women.

  A guard standing post looks at me from the corner of his eye but doesn’t flinch or shift his rigid posture. I walk past him carefully, equally fearful that he will not recognize me and fearful that he will. I find her chamber with ease. The moment I see the large chamber doors and circular walls, I sense that this would be hers. I drop my torch to the ground, letting the embers flicker and fade behind me as I silently approach her.

  Her sleeping form is concealed in shadow. Her face looks so peaceful when she sleeps. I notice the way her arms cross themselves in front of her chest and the way her knees curl up in front of her. I move closer to the bed. The soft sighs she exhales bring a smile to my face. I know I should leave before she wakes up and sees me. The pounding in my chest urges me to go, but I can’t. I lied—a glimpse is not enough.

  My finger trails the edge of her bed, tracing over the silky blankets covering her. I lift it toward her neck then my hand travels upwards to where a stray curl dangles across her cheek. I hook the curl underneath my forefinger and gently lift it off her smooth skin. I tuck it behind her ear. As I pull my hand away, she mumbles incoherently, sending a wave of panic through me. I back away and exit her room, satisfied with the cure to my ailments.

  Part Six

  Punishment

  I clamp my fingers down on the gilded edge of the armrest. Outwardly, I exude a countenance of confidence and control of the situation. Inside, I feel anything but.

  I clench my jaw muscles tight, making my expression hard as stone. I narrow my eyes on the grand entrance of the throne room, my gaze steely. I can still feel the anger pulsing through my veins. When I learned what happened, I was enraged. No, ‘enraged’ is an understatement. The state of my private chambers is proof enough of that. Silk drapes are strewn across the floor along with sharp, jagged pieces of pottery and glass. It no longer looks like the resting place of a king, even now that attendants and servants have labored tirelessly to undo the damage I made when I heard what happened to Esther.

  The room falls silent as the doors open. My heart begins to race at the sight of her. She draws closer to me, graciously approaching my throne. Cloaked in shadow, I can hardly make out her familiar features.

  The shadow disappears as the light from the flames lining the stairs to my throne illuminate her. My gut wrenches. Black and blue splotches dot her chin and forehead. I can feel the muscles in my jaw flinching as I try to remain expressionless. I have to for her sake . . . and her safety.

  The fear lurking behind her irises pricks my already convulsing heart. Terror-ridden eyes scramble around the room, taking in the rest of the candidates. Her eyes flit away from the sea of girls and glance up to mine.

  Despite her best efforts to conceal her face, I notice the grimace that contorts her face as she sinks to the floor. I lift my hand into the air, acknowledging her presence and giving her my silent permission to raise herself back up. Her timid eyes, reluctant to meet mine, stray down the length of her dress.

  “Esther, you have endured a terrible incident today. When my ears caught up of this story, I was appalled. In order for justice to be served, I have brought all the candidates here before me. All you need do is point to the one who planted the snake in your bath.”

  Fear flashes across her delicate and bruised face. Her eyes widen, and she looks up at me. I do not release her from my gaze. I motion towards the candidates. Esther takes a deep breath and turns in their direction. Muffled cries and light footsteps are the only sounds to fill the silence.

  She examines them, traveling down the line at an excruciating[LT2]ly slow speed. With each step she takes, the tension among the candidates grows. Her footsteps stop abruptly then quicken as she takes a few steps towards a slender maiden with raven black hair. In a moment Esther’s demeanor changes. She lifts a trembling finger to the wide-eyed maiden’s nose. “It was her,” her choked voice spews.

  I signal to a group of by-standing guards, who do not hesitate to follow orders.

  Her voice echoes through the throne room as their robust hands latch onto her frail arms. “She’s lying!” Guttural shrieks rip through the air as they drag the squirming maiden before Esther. Esther searches for answers in my eyes. I cock my eyeb
rows and ask, “Is this her?”

  She reluctantly nods her head. Then in a weak voice, she says, “Yes.”

  I give my guards a quick nod. They immediately release her, and she falls to the floor. Her hands grasp the tiles underneath her as her tears begin to soak them.

  I know I must make an example of her. These candidates are under my protection here in the palace. What kind of king would people make of me if I failed to keep my own women in line?

  “Let this be a warning to you all! I have made you all guests in my home and given you each an opportunity to become my queen. Anyone found guilty of maltreatment towards any other candidate will face the same fate: death.”

  I push myself up and begin my descent down the stairs. I give the guilty maiden one last look before I give the order. Tears and snot coat her face. Her hands shake violently as she clutches her mouth, slightly muffling her cries. The guards know what to do. As they draw their swords and their blades slice through the air, the air falls silent.

  My eyes, steadily trained on the execution about to occur, catch sight of something moving behind the slumped over candidate. Esther is rushing toward the girl, her hands clawing at the air. She collapses at my feet, shielding her enemy from the blow the guards nearly dealt.

  “No,” her trembling voice calls out.

  I reach down and grasp the lengthy tendrils scattered around her face. I sweep them over her ear, letting them fall behind her shoulder. With her face uncovered, I can see the fear seizing her eyes.

  I want to soothe that fear and tell her that everything is okay. No one will hurt her. But all I can do is reach down and clasp her shaking fingers in my hand. She finally looks up at me. Our eyes lock in an intense embrace. I squeeze her hands harder, pulling her from the ground up to me.

  “Your Highness,” Haggai interrupts.

  The eunuch cautiously draws near, wisely conscious of my temper.

  “Yes, Haggai?”

  “Please excuse this young maiden. She has been through quite an ordeal. Her wits are not with her.”