Free Esther : Royal Beauty (9781441269294) by Angela Elwell Hunt Page B

would want to be near him.” Babar looked up at me, the whites of his eyes gleaming in the shadows cast by the heaps of garbage. “The king is a madman, and anyone who chooses to serve in his presence is a fool.”
    I stepped back, repulsed by Babar’s description of the king and horrified by the depths to which he had fallen. How could I have imagined myself married to this creature? To a man who did not honor and respect my king? To a deserter ?
    â€œHe says the king is not to be trusted.” Parysatis tugged at my arm as her words flowed in a steady stream. “He fears for his life, Hadassah. The king executes anyone who displeases him, even if they have done nothing wrong. He has already killed three messengers who brought him bad news, so Babar was terrified he’d be next.”
    â€œAll soldiers risk their lives,” I replied, my voice cold in my ears. “Why should Babar be an exception?”
    â€œHe doesn’t consider himself an exception—”
    â€œAll soldiers,” Babar interrupted, “risk their lives in battle, but I found my life at risk simply by being in the king’s presence. He is unpredictable and capricious. He is dangerous, an adder with a swift and deadly bite.”
    â€œHe is not; he could not be.” I drew myself up to my full height, convinced that Babar lied to disguise his own cowardice. “My cousin works for him, and Mordecai is the steadiest, wisest man Iknow. He would tell me if the king were anything but brave. You have fled from battle only because you are afraid.”
    â€œHadassah, please.” Tears streaked Parysatis’s face; her distress—or her shame—was genuine.
    â€œI’ll go.” I turned to leave. “And I won’t say anything, but not for your sake, Babar. I will remain silent because I do not want to shame Parysatis, whose brother is a coward.”
    My friend burst into tears as I slipped my arm around her shoulders and led her from the place.
    â€œHe’s wrong, you know,” I told her as we walked back to the bazaar. “The king is a great man, and your brother is the fool. Everyone adores our king, and how could so many people be wrong?”
    â€œI know you must be right,” she replied, swiping her face with her sleeve. “And I know Babar has done wrong. But what can he do? He can’t go back to the war and he can’t go home. Father would kill him for running away, and the king would execute him for desertion.”
    â€œBabar has made his decision, so now he must live with it,” I said, squeezing her shoulder. I felt great compassion for my best friend, but as we walked through the alley, I wondered how I could have ever imagined myself in love with a man who could be so rash and reckless.

    â€œDo you think the king will return soon?” I asked Mordecai one night after the evening meal. “Will he hold another banquet to celebrate his victories? Surely he will, don’t you think?”
    Mordecai looked at me, weariness and wariness mingling in his eyes. “It’s not my place to read the future, child,” he said, dropping one hand to my shoulder. “And your destiny has nothing to do with that pagan palace on the hill. We must think about your future, and that means your betrothal.”
    I fell silent, knowing what would surely come next. Mordecai and Miriam had successfully postponed the necessity of my marriage for several years, but time was slipping away from us. If a betrothal wasn’t soon arranged, people would begin to wonder if something was wrong with me.
    Maybe they wondered already.
    Miriam cleared the table, then sat directly across from me. “You know we only want the best for you, Hadassah. You have been the light of our lives—” her eyes filled with tears—“and we will hate to see you go. But the time must come when a woman leaves her home and makes a new home for her husband and