The Queen's eyes flew wide, then turned to slits. "What," she growled, "are you doing here?"

I gave her a reproachful look, but was laughing at her anger on the inside. "I want to speak with you."

"And what makes you think that I would have a hearing with you, girl?" She was trying her best to appear menacing. She mostly looked like she had eaten a raw lemon, her sneering lips seeming as though fishermen had hooks on either side of her jaw. The expression on her face was that of a fish just recently pulled out of water.

The dagger was in my hands before she could even register what had happened. I twirled the blade coolly, my eyes never leaving hers. "We both know you don't have a choice, Your Highness." I couldn't bring myself to call her my queen. Balkis gave an audible gasp, jaw agape in utter surprise. I let my gaze slide to the silver knife. "It would really be a shame to corrupt such a beautiful thing with something so vile such as yourself."

After a long moment, Balkis nodded. "It is done." She made an exaggerated gesture with her arm. "Shall we go someplace more…private?"

I hid the dagger and followed her to one of the back rooms. It was nothing special, just a couple of couches on either side of a small table, a rug or two here and there. Candlelight flickered on the walls.

She turned and sat across from me, ever the image of attempted perfection. But I had long since noticed the permanent scowl, the dark, gleaming eyes. I wondered how I had never noticed this years before, when I was still her guard.

Queen Balkis glared at me, gave an indignant huff and rose her chin. Her lips pursed, she straightened her back.

I rose an eyebrow, slouched back into the soft couch, crossed one leg over the other, my arms folded comfortably across my chest. A smirk slid onto my lips.

Her irritable reply lightened my mood even more. "Well?"

"Your Highness, I want to discuss an important matter with you, concerning the last few nights on the caravan route."

"I don't know what you're talking about, impertinent girl." Her reply was a little too quick.

I leaned forward. "Oh, but I think you do. And I'm sure the merchant's family can agree with me."

Silence. "This is ridiculous," The queen said, starting to get up. "Are you honestly accusing me of murder?"

"Mmm…I haven't said anything about that yet," I gave a cold smile, knowing I had her. She knew something. I could tell by her quick movements, her sharp tone. A bead of sweat rolled down her forehead. I had her. "But I suppose I am. Not direct murder of course," I went on, watching her with peaked interest. "Most people are too cowardly for that." I sighed, reaching for my dagger again. She had started moving subtly toward the door, hoping for a quick getaway. "I suggest you stay where you are."

Balkis froze. "It was not my fault." She protested. "The travelers were concealing terrorists from Kush!"

I held back a groan, refrained myself from saying something stupid. Instead, I cleared my throat. "And where exactly did you hear this news from?"

"A little bird told me." She sniffed.

For her sake I hoped not literally. "You do realize that they would have had to cross the Red Sea to get here?"

"There is a high price for women like me."

I wanted so badly to slap her that my hand twitched in my lap. "And most stories from 'little birds' are fabricated truths?"

"Now you are accusing me of lying!" The Queens face was blood red. Her hands were clenched into fists, but she didn't dare move. I knew she was well aware how accurately I could throw.

I blinked. "You're one to make accusations, Your Highness. You see, there were no armed men coming. I was with them. I was the so-called terrorist." I narrowed my eyes. "And Aba died for nothing."

The Queen took a step back as I rose to my feet. She held out her hands in a feeble attempt to protect herself. I shook my head. The entire display was pathetic. How the mighty have fallen. "Balkis, you and I both know I would have killed you already if I wanted to. But I won't." I paused. "You've meant too much to my family."

"You're mother would be disappointed!" She squeaked.

I took a step forward. "My mother was an honorable woman…but I will not follow in her footsteps. I am my own, and I do not belong to anyone. Not even you." I stepped back, making for the door. When I reached the doorway, I stopped and turned back. "There will be no more accusations upon travelers without my consent. Please remember your pact with Solomon and I."

"Asmira,"

I turned, pulled back the hood of my robe to reveal my face. A dirty woman with reddened eyes took my hands in hers, gave them a gentle squeeze. "Thank you for all that you've done."

Biting my lower lip, I hugged her gently. Her frail body shook under the embrace. "And your children?" The merchant was the only one to bring home enough money to support them. He was now buried in the graveyard by the river.

"We will all manage without…" The woman's voice cracked. "Without…"

I placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It'll be alright. I'm only sorry I couldn't save your husband in time."

She gave me a weak smile. "Thank you for bringing back his body. Now he will not wander in the afterlife." Her breath shuddered as she tried to recollect herself. "I don't know what we'll do without him."

I nodded, unable to say anything. She started to walk away, but I took her hand. "I know it isn't much," I said softly as I pressed a copper coin into her palm, "But every little bit counts. I hope this helps feed you and your family."

She nodded, a tear running down her cheek. I suddenly found I couldn't bear to look at her anymore. I turned quickly and made my way down the street, my throat and eyes burning.

"Asmira!"

A different voice this time, off to my right. I pretended not to hear, careful not to let my pace quicken.

"Asmira!"

Closer now, almost directly behind me. I cursed, wiped at my eyes. I should have pulled my hood back up.

Heavy footsteps sounded behind me. "Asmira, wait up!"

I stopped, turned. My eyes flew wide. "Hakim!" Why was he here?

A boy wearing royal colors ran up beside me, trying to catch his breath. "Man, you are hard to catch up to sometimes." At my inquiring look, he held out a letter. "From King Solomon of Jerusalem."

The couple chatting a few feet away had suddenly stopped when Hakim had mentioned the king's name. I took the letter and tucked it in my robes, then motioned for him to follow me. "We should discuss this somewhere else, not in the middle of the market."

"O-oh," Hakim stammered, hurrying after me. "Sorry."

Hakim was fast asleep on the couch, his snores mingling with the fire I had made up only a few hours ago. The sky had long since gone dark, but my mind was reeling too much to sleep.

Almost unconsciously, I started drumming my fingers on my small table, Solomon's open letter laid out in front of me in the same place it had been for the past few hours. Only three words were written.

Come to Jerusalem.