Hadassah:
I sat on the chilled marble next to the bathing pool, my fingers swirling in the top of the water. The air was heavy with incense and perfumes, the sign of luxury, of royalty. The life every girl dreamed of, but a life that felt so cold, so empty to me. I did not understand what had happened. One moment, everything was perfect, and the next, it had shattered into a million pieces.
The memory of the unknown woman's laugh was branded into my mind, left to haunt me, so that every time I thought of my king, my Xerxes, that sound rattled and echoed in my mind and heart. What had changed? He was only gone a couple of months. What could have happened that made him so cold, so distant upon his return?
My fingers danced in the water, it was so dark I felt that if I let my hand fall too deep, it would pull my in, never to be released again. I picked up a yellow flower, twirling it and letting the petals make small rings in the water. How long before my heart stopped hurting? Before the bite of betrayal healed? How long before I truly wanted it to? If I was never allowed back in to my Xerxes, if he continued to cut me out, did I ever want to lose my last connection to the one I loved? Did I want to ever think his name and not feel? No. That thought was more unbearable than even this.
"Is it my foolish desire to believe these stories I hear," the voice of the very one I had been meditating upon came from behind me. I stood quickly to face him. "Or my glaring inability to perceive their mysteries?"
"Perhaps you," I swallowed past the lump in my throat, "placed them back upon the shelve to collect dust without ever truly completing them." I said, hinting towards the unknown reason for this separation he initiated.
"Who is the one that gathers dust?" Xerxes demanded, his words were thick with emotion. "I believed I was your Rachel. But it appears I'm only Leah, and you serve time with me for another."
"No," I chocked out. "My lord, it is not what you think."
"Nothing is as I think anymore. Plots slither through the night. Trust, it decays like secret gates left to rust," he gestured about him in anguish. "Admantha is carried to torture even as we speak."
My heart ached in my chest at the pain etched so deeply into the face of my love. How did everything go so wrong? That I should stand opposed to my king, unable to comfort my husband.
"This Jacob and Rachel, they are no mere story to you," he stepped closer. "Give me some incentive to believe in who you really are. Give me some honor. For if it is truly the honor of Kings to seek out truth in lie, I am a man of scorn," he swore passionately.
"I will answer you, my lord," I said slowly. "If you first answer me."
"Answer you what?" he questioned sharply.
"What have I done that has caused you to doubt my faith? To turn your back on our love?" I lost my resolve not to cry as I forced out the next question: "To send me from your side and invite another into your bed?"
"Into my bed?" he asked, incredulously.
"I came to you that night—to your chambers the night you returned. I heard you," tears wet my face but I did not wipe them. I refused to take my eyes off Xerxes as I watched carefully for any lie or excuse he could make.
"I did not sleep a moment that night, least of all share my bed with another," he spat the statement from his mouth, as if even the thought of the words were as sour as lemon. "I did not even enter my chambers till dawn. I was not the one unfaithful to our love."
I could find no lie in his face. Doubt appeared in my mind, maybe I had been wrong. My heart desperately wanted to believe that its reason for beating was innocent, with everything in it. I longed to find a way that all this animosity, all this pain, was only a misunderstanding, and I could fall back into the arms of my king. But it didn't make sense. And neither did his last sentence.
"Are you insinuating that I was unfaithful?" I did not understand.
"Yes," he yelled. "I saw you! At the lovers gate, the day I came back."
"No," I breathed as I started to see. "Oh, no, no, no. My lord," I closed the distance and cupped his face in my hands, gently speaking. "He is not my lover. You are my husband, my only."
He yanked away from me. "Don't lie."
I grabbed his hand, needing to touch him, to reach him. "I am yours, my lord, king. I swear to you, I have never been, and never shall be another's. Please," I begged. "You must believe me."
"You embraced him, I saw. If he is not a lover then who could be possibly be?"
I tried to think of an answer, but nothing came to me. Nothing but the truth.
"Who?" he shouted.
"My uncle," I fell to my knees before him, sobbing. "He is my uncle."
His breath was heavy and labored. "Uncle?"
I nodded vigorously from my place at his feet. He must believe me. I needed him to. I don't know what I would do if this silence between us remained.
"No," he said and my heart plummeted. "No, if he was your uncle, why have I not met him? Why have you not mentioned him? He did not come to the wedding, you claimed you had no one to invite. No. Why the secrecy? If he was your uncle you wouldn't have needed to meet beneath the lovers gate. No!"
"He is, he is," I pleaded, once again reaching for his hand and this time not letting his pull away from me. "Please, let me explain."
Xerxes looked down at me for a long moment, "I wish to believe you," he said finally. "My heart cries out for me to listen."
"You asked about my people, about Jacob and Rachel. Let me tell you," I prayed that God would somehow make him saw yes. That He would turn the king's heart towards me.
The hand I held twisted, and then he gripped mine back, pulling me off the ground. I came willingly and fell into his arms. The embrace was not like our past embraces, tight and full of warmth and passion, but rather consisted of his arms wrapped loosely around my waist while my hands rested carefully on his chest. And my head didn't tuck into his shoulder or neck but rather our gazes were guarded. Even through all the suspicion in which he regarded me, an undeniable hope was filling us both as we felt the hesitant heat share between us for the first time in weeks. We were not meant to be apart.
"Come," he whispered. "Let us speak of our Jacob where we first began his story."
I nodded nervously. How was I supposed to tell him that I was a Jew? That I had lied to him about everything, even my name? I pushed down my fear; it would not do. God had answered my prayers, I would not be frightened.
To Be Continued. . .
Arthur's Note: Hey guys, I want to get this fandom going. One Night With the King is such an amazing movie, and the book's awesome too, and I know that more than 5-6 people think so. So if you love this movie, please post a story! I need to read more!
Hope you enjoyed it!
