Free A Reluctant Queen by Joan Wolf

waist and their voices were higher pitched than a man’s. But Hathach was different. He fought his fate. His speech was slow and careful, so that he would not be betrayed into the high notes that he so obviously hated and feared. His diet was abstemious, and Luara had told Esther that he exercised fanatically.
    Esther looked now at the tall, golden-skinned young man walking beside her and her heart filled with pain for him. She was going to leave this place, but Hathach was trapped for life, trapped not only by the harem but also by the mutilation that had been done to his body.
    Hathach took her to eat a light meal of fruit and bread and then he brought her to the robing room where Muran, Luara, and a collection of girls awaited her. Esther sighed as she saw the eager expression on the Mistress’s face. This ordeal was going to take many hours.
    It was half an hour before the scheduled appointment when Muran pronounced herself satisfied with Esther’s appearance. She stood, surveying her work, then turned Esther so she could look in the mirror. “You are perfect,” Muran declared.
    Esther obediently looked at the picture reflected back to her in the polished bronze. It had taken Luara three hours to weave pearls into many of the individual strands of her shining hair, which fell in a radiant glory to her waist. Her eyes were outlined in kohl and her eyebrows formed two perfect arches to frame them. Her immaculate nails were delicately tinted and her orange-blossom robe hung from her golden belt in perfect folds.
    “You don’t look like the same girl who came to me, that is for certain,” Muran said with satisfaction.
    “That is so, Mistress,” Esther said politely.
    For what seemed the hundredth time, Muran went over the procedure that Esther was to follow during the presentation. “The king will speak to you in the privacy of his own courtyard. You will be left alone with him, but Hegai will be nearby to escort you back to the harem whenever the king chooses to end the interview. It will last for half an hour. Ahasuerus has given all the girls that courtesy.”
    “Yes, Mistress,” Esther said.
    “He has dispensed with much of the court ceremony for these interviews, but, of course, you must make the prostration.”
    “Yes, Mistress.”
    “Wine will be served. You must pour it for him.”
    Esther had spent more hours than she believed possible learning the Persian way of pouring wine. “Yes, Mistress. I know how to pour the wine.”
    “And remember to smile, Esther. Your smile is your greatest beauty.”
    Esther would be sure to look as solemn as possible.
    It was only when Hegai arrived to escort her to the rose garden where she would meet the king that Esther felt the first stab of nerves.
    What if he should choose me?
    This was a thought Esther had studiously avoided, but the uncertainty was suddenly frightening. She had to be careful. She could not do anything that would disgust him or betray that she was anything but what she seemed: an Achaemenid girl from the lesser nobility who was hoping to be chosen as the Great King’s wife. But she did not want to do anything that might make him like her either.
    It will never happen. Never. He has seen scores of girls prettier than I. He will never choose me .
    But her heart was thudding as she followed Hegai through the door that led from the harem into the palace and thence to a walled outdoor courtyard that opened off the royal apartments. There was a white marble fountain in the middle of the court, and rose vines grew all along the high brick walls. In a few weeks they would be in flower. Esther had a small rose bush in her own garden, and she prayed she would be home in time to see it bloom.
    Hegai said, “The king rode out this morning and may be detained. We were told to await him here.”
    “I understand,” Esther said.
    Hegai chatted easily, obviously trying to distract her, but Esther did not hear a word he said. I wonder if Uncle Mordecai knows I