Free The Desert Princess by Jill Eileen Smith

Solomon’s door and begged entrance. He merely nodded once, then slipped inside. I waited through the space of many breaths, to the point that I began to chastise myself for making such a grave error. It had been only two days since he had been to my chambers. Was I making myself a nuisance by not giving him more time?
    I tapped my slippered foot on the mosaic tiles and nearly turned around and ran back to my rooms before Solomon could reject me, when the door opened and the guard beckoned me to enter.
    â€œNaamah,” Solomon said, smiling as he strode toward me. His hair was rumpled and he still wore his night tunic.
    â€œI woke you.” I should have waited until evening or at least until I was certain. “I’m sorry. I can come another time. It is not important.”
    He took my hand and kissed it. “Of course it is important, or you would not be here.” He led me to an area of plush cushions and settled me beside him. I glanced around, realizing that he had never brought me to this room. Why had he waited to welcome me here?
    I studied our intertwined fingers a moment, then looked at him. He watched me, his expression puzzled as though he were trying to unravel a riddle I had proposed to him.
    â€œI am not completely certain, my lord,” I said softly, feeling heat rush to my cheeks, but I did not look away. I wanted to see theever-changing facets of his handsome face and see how he took my news. “But I believe I am carrying your child.”
    His dark eyes grew wide, and he seemed to think over the matter but a moment. A smile lit his face, and he took both of my hands in his and squeezed my fingers. “Already? I did not think . . . that is . . .” He let out a breath. “A child!” He kissed me then and pulled me close, laughing. “My dear Naamah. A child of our love.” He held me at arm’s length. “Surely God will give us a son.”
    I laughed in relief at his reaction. “I thought it wrong to come here, to tell you so soon. When you did not return last night . . .” And the night before, though I did not say it. “I thought you had grown tired of me.”
    He held me close again, and I could feel the beat of his heart against my ear. “Never think such a thing, my love.” The words were soft, a caress.
    I rested my head against him, glad now that I had come. He held me for several moments, and I wished time would stand still. When at last he stood and pulled me to my feet, I looked into his eyes. He smiled down at me and walked me to the door, promising to call for me soon.
    A baby! I pressed a hand to my heart, barely daring to believe it. My father would be pleased beyond measure!
    I did not realize it immediately, or even halfway through the morning as I penned a letter to my father with the news. So caught up was I in the excitement of the moment that it did not occur to me until the servants came to dress me for the evening meal that Solomon had not invited me to stay with him this day or to return to him this night. And in that moment I sensed a slight shift in our relationship. He had said he would call for me.
    I was not invited to visit him unannounced again.

    Fortunately for me, Solomon was an attentive husband, and though he did not often call me to his chambers, he often visited mine. I was not ill in the evenings, so our nights were filled with music and dancing and laughing at silly riddles we invented.
    â€œI went past the field of a sluggard today,” he said one night as he lounged among the plush pillows adorning a large couch in my sitting room. I straightened and smiled.
    â€œWhat did you see?” I asked, wrapping a hand around his arm.
    â€œI saw a man who lacks judgment. Thorns had come up everywhere and the ground was covered with weeds. The stone wall was in ruins.” He glanced at me, his look thoughtful. “I applied my heart to what I observed and learned a