Game of Queens

by India Edghill

  I had done my best to ensure no girl would be forced either into or out of the competition, but I soon learned how easily my rules could be evaded. Hegai came into my garden where I sat reading, my lazy cheetah lying across my feet. I looked up; Hegai’s face seemed shadowed. I set the scroll aside. “What is it, Hegai? What troubles you?”

  “There is a new maiden you must see.” Hegai sounded almost worried.

  “Why? Who is she?”

  “Because she is Prince Shethar’s daughter,” Hegai said.

  “Surely that will count against her, rather than in her favor?” I thought Shethar far too ambitious, and I knew Ahasuerus also regarded him cautiously.

  “Perhaps.” Hegai conveyed his doubt with that one word. I rose to my feet and called for Ajashea to take the cheetah to her cage, and told Hegai to take me to see the paragon who so troubled him.

  When I saw the prince’s daughter, my heady confidence vanished in a breath. In a garden of beautiful girls, she simply was, beyond any doubt, the most beautiful. Night-black hair and skin like new ivory; night-dark eyes and lips red as pomegranate seeds …

  “Yes,” Hegai murmured, answering my question before I asked it. “Her name is Tandis.”

  “She is very beautiful.”

  “She is.” Hegai’s tone seemed to dismiss Tandis’s perfect beauty; I looked up and saw him smiling.

  “She’s more beautiful than I am,” I said.

  “She is,” Hegai agreed.

  I stared at him, mock-indignant—at least, I told myself I jested. “But no woman is more beautiful than I—everyone has always said so.”

  “That was when you were Queen of Queens.”

  “So I lost my beauty when I lost the queen’s crown?”

  “Some of it, my princess.” Hegai regarded me steadily. “And she is younger than you.”

  “How much younger?”

  “She must be fourteen at least, if she is here.”

  “You think she is not?” I studied Tandis more carefully, noting the round curves of her cheeks, the way her clothing fell away from her body rather than displaying its shape. Younger. Then Prince Shethar had violated at least one of the contest rules. How many others has he ignored?

  “Is it worth accusing Shethar? By the time all the rest arrive, she will doubtless be fourteen in truth.” I wondered if it would matter—perhaps Tandis’s sheer beauty would dazzle Ahasuerus into setting the crown upon her midnight hair.

  “Perhaps the nobly-born lady Tandis does not desire to become queen,” Hegai suggested.

  “I wonder you can say those words without laughing! Prince Shethar’s daughter not wish to become Queen of Queens? After all he has done to place her where the crown will tumble onto her head?”

  “Perhaps she is a willful child, ungrateful for all her father has done.”

  I considered Hegai’s words. “What do you know of her?” I asked at last.

  “Less than I should, save that she has a twin sister; Shethar keeps a strict household. But the mere fact that she is here—”

  “—means her father intends her to be Ahasuerus’s choice,” I finished. “Yes, that much seems clear.” I studied the nobly-born lady Tandis, wondering if she obeyed her father eagerly, or merely dutifully.

  She held herself stiffly, her chin lifted; she seemed proud, even haughty, which did not surprise me in Prince Shethar’s daughter. Her shining black hair hung in a thick threefold braid down her back—

  Just as my hair had been braided, the day Queen Mother Amestris had come to look upon me when I was ten years old. Three braids woven with strings of pearls, then twined into one braid so heavy it had tilted my head back and made my neck ache.…

  “I wish to speak with her,” I told Hegai, and instead of summoning a servant, he went over and brought Tandis to me himself.

  “My lady the Princess Vashti, beloved sister of King Ahasuerus, behold the nobly-born lady Tandis, daughter of Prince Shethar. She is the candidate from Daskyleion.”

  Hegai’s stiffly formal introduction made me smile as Tandis bowed.

  “It is an honor to meet Princess Vashti, beloved sister of the King of Kings.” Tandis’s voice was soft, pleasing to the ear. But when she straightened again and looked at me, she did not smile.

  “It pleases me to meet you. Are you well and happy here?” I made my voice sympathetic, coaxing.

  “Oh, yes, princess.” Tandis tried valiantly to sound happy.

  “No, you are not,” I said. “Tell me what troubles you—I will have the matter corrected at once.”

  Her eyes glinted bright with unshed tears. “I miss my sister,” she said.

  “I understand. I wish I had a sister.” Only a small untruth; seeing Tandis’s longing created envy of such affection. I already knew the answer to my next question, but I wished to draw Tandis into conversation, learn what I could of her and her wishes. Was she as nakedly ambitious as her father? “Is your sister older than you, or younger?”

  Tandis hesitated, and I smiled. “Your father is not here,” I pointed out, “and I will not reveal anything you tell me.”

  She looked intently at me for a moment, clearly weighing her father’s power against mine. “We are the same age,” Tandis said at last.

  “Fourteen?” I said, raising my eyebrows.

  Another pause; Tandis chose to consider my word a statement rather than a question. “She is my twin. I have never spent even an hour away from her. And now—now I will never see her again.”

  “Of course you will.”

  Tandis shook her head. “Our father the nobly-born Prince Shethar said he will keep Barsine to ensure I obey him always. I swore I would always do just as he ordered me.”

  Her perfectly curved lips quivered; she pressed them together hard and stared at the ground. I reached out and lifted her chin so I could look into her eyes.

  “Was Barsine permitted to put her name into the contest?” I asked, and Tandis shook her head. Another rule broken.

  “I see.” I put my arm around the girl. “Don’t cry, Tandis, or your servants will be in despair at the ruin of all their hard work.” I turned to Hegai. “Send for Prince Shethar’s daughter the nobly-born lady Barsine. Tell the prince that because he denied Barsine the right to place her name in the contest, he must send her as well. If her twin sister is worthy of the notice of the King of Kings, so is she.”

  Tandis flung herself to her knees and grasped my hands. “O princess, I will serve you always! I will do whatsoever you wish! So will Barsine, I swear we will—”

  About to assure Tandis I had no need of such effusive gratitude, I changed my mind as she kissed my hands. “Thank you, Tandis. I think you and your sister will be valuable friends to have.”

  “You do realize,” Hegai said, “that raises the number of candidates to one hundred and twenty-eight?”

  “No,” I said, “it means we now have only one hundred and twenty-six—for both of Prince Shethar’s daughters are too young to be considered at all and so I am taking them into my care. Prince Shethar not only forced a daughter to enter the contest, but sent one who is not yet fourteen. That is two rules broken, so I will take two daughters from him. And,” I added, “the satrapy of Daskyleion does not have permission to try again with yet another candidate!”

  “A wise decision,” Hegai said, and I smiled at him. For a moment I thought he would say more, but he merely smiled back.

  * * *

  As soon as Prince Shethar’s daughter Barsine was brought to the palace, I knew why it was Tandis who had been forced to enter the contest. The nobly-born lady Barsine looked exactly like her twin; Barsine, too, was physical perfection. But Barsine lacked Tandis’s quick wit and clever mind. Barsine was sweet and soft as a kitten, and as heedless. I greeted Barsine kindly, and ordered both Tandis and Barsine to be given rooms near mine.

  No one sought to object, and Tandis and Barsine kissed my hands and thanked me ecstatically. They regarded their father with fear, and gladly gave me their
allegiance.

  “That was well done, Vashti,” Hegai told me later, as we stood on an upper balcony and watched the two girls playing with a gilded leather ball in the garden below.

  His praise warmed me; I slid my arm through his. “It cost me nothing, and gained me two devoted attendants—one clever and quick as a mongoose, and one who will do what she is told. And,” I added, smiling, “Prince Shethar is furious.”

  Furious, yet powerless to interfere once I had invoked the king’s privilege to have any woman he chose sent to the imperial palace. My scribe Nikole had written an elegantly stern demand that I had sealed with the king’s own seal, which Ahasuerus had gladly lent to me. Such an order could not be ignored or disobeyed; Shethar had perforce sent me his daughter Barsine.

  “Yes, he is very angry. You have made an enemy there, Vashti.” Hegai seemed undisturbed by this.

  “Prince Shethar was always my enemy.” I knew that now. “The only difference is that now everyone knows it. And,” I added, “Shethar knows his own scheming lost the queen’s crown. Do you think that punishment enough?”

  “Punishment enough,” Hegai said, and we both smiled as Tandis and Barsine tossed each other a golden ball in the garden below.

  BOOK SIX

  One Night with the King

  ESTHER

  On the first day of Tishri, all the Shushan girls who had flung their names into the contest baskets were summoned to judgment. The vast square at the foot of the Great Staircase had been turned into a series of pavilions. The king’s Immortals guarded the pavilions, and kept out of the square itself everyone save girls who had entered the contest and their guardians. Most of the girls were escorted by their mothers; I had Mordecai.

  We waited an hour to reach the table where all our names had been set out on a list. Mordecai said my name, and the man in charge of the list ran his finger carefully down the names. “Esther,” he said. “Esther, ward of Mordecai the king’s scribe. Oh, yes.” I thought he exchanged a swift glance with Mordecai, but it can be hard to discern subtleties through a veil. “You go into that pavilion, Esther—the blue and white one.”

  Just before I left him, Mordecai touched my shoulder. I stopped, waiting.

  “Now remember, all is arranged.” Mordecai sounded as if he tried to convince himself, rather than me. “You have only to smile and do as you are told, and you will be taken to the palace.”

  That is unfair! The other girls have no chance at all! But I knew the protest useless. Silent, I walked into the pavilion as I had been bidden. The moment I was within, a woman lifted away my veil. To my intense relief, I faced only two eunuchs and a half-dozen handmaidens. I had been afraid all the girls would be judged at once—As if we were yearling mares charging about a paddock. I smiled at the thought, and the taller of the eunuchs suddenly looked at me with more interest.

  “Well, this one may be worth looking at,” he said.

  Ah, he sees promise in me—but does not wish to pay too dearly! I had seen such cautious judging on the faces of many men who had come to my father’s farm.

  “Who is this maiden?” the tall eunuch asked. He was a beautiful creature, elegant of bone. Kohl lined his long dark eyes; ruddy gold ornaments and a robe of peacock silk enhanced the dark amber of his skin. A jeweled net confined his pitch-black hair; the myriad tiny gems seemed like stars scattered across the night sky. Unlike many eunuchs, he had not run to excess flesh, nor did he seem either indolent or careless.

  The other consulted his list. “Esther, my lord.”

  At a sign from the eunuch who had asked my name, the handmaidens came forward and began stripping my garments from me. Although I had been warned this would be done, I burned with embarrassment. How could my cousin, my strict, pious cousin, a man who praised modesty as a woman’s chief virtue—how could he have urged me on to this? They are not men, I reminded myself. They are eunuchs. And the maids are women. I have nothing to blush for.

  “Why bother?” I heard one of the maids whisper to another, “this one’s name is already written—”

  I turned my head, and looked into the eyes of the handmaiden who silently listened to the first’s unwary words. She smiled, and I saw her swiftly pinch the other, who ceased talking. So, another who can see beyond the next turn of the sands.

  “What is your name?” I asked, and saw the girl glance sidelong at the tall eunuch, who lifted his hand—only a little, so that only one watching closely would see that he had moved at all.

  “Kylah,” said the clever handmaiden, and I repeated the name to myself. I would remember her, and the tall eunuch as well. Command rested upon his shoulders as easily as the elaborate robe he wore. He clearly was someone of greater importance than he wished to reveal. Now, who—? Of course. Hegai. The Chief Eunuch of the Queen’s Palace.

  The answer came easily, once I had asked myself the question. Who had a greater stake in the search for a new queen than the Chief Eunuch? And I had heard my cousin Mordecai speak of Hegai often enough. Hegai ruled the Queen’s Palace; one of the chief officials of the imperial court, whose word could be countermanded only by the king—or the queen.

  I was being judged by the Chief Eunuch himself; a sign of great favor—and of the great price Mordecai paid to place me here, before Hegai’s eyes.

  “Well, maiden,” Hegai said, his voice gentle, soothing, “let me look upon you.”

  “Is there any need?” I asked, and Hegai suddenly regarded me with far more interest.

  “Do you think so little of yourself?” Hegai continued to eye me keenly.

  My skin burned under his gaze, but I kept my head high. “I think so truthfully of myself. My hair is a much-praised color. My skin is without blemish. My body is without flaw. You have eyes. You do not need me to tell you I am beautiful.”

  I said these words with neither pride nor arrogance. I stated facts, no more than that. I tried to stand placidly; it was hard to be serene, bared to so many eyes. A long-ago memory: I swam naked in cold pure river water, and above me hawks wheeled in a turquoise sky—

  “You are very blunt. Are you so confident you will be chosen?” Hegai walked slowly around me, returned to gaze upon my face once more.

  “I am already chosen, my place bought and paid for.” I decided to risk my future on the truth. He knew it already. Why lie?

  “And you think that settles the matter?”

  “I think it a bargain sealed only if you form a good opinion of me, my lord.” I did not say his name, as he had not offered it.

  “Should I form a good opinion of a maiden with a clever mind and a strong will?”

  “That depends,” I said, and paused, waiting.

  “Consider the question asked,” he said at last, and I smiled at him.

  “On what virtues you seek in the next Queen of Queens,” I said.

  He gazed upon me for long moments; I stood quiet, kept my breathing calm. Do not think about the fact that you stand naked for him to judge you. Think only of what he needs, and what you can offer. Remember how your father dealt with those who wished to buy his horses, or to sell him theirs. Then, shocked, I realized I sought Hegai’s favor. Why do I care? Do I wish to be queen, like all those other foolish girls?

  As I waited, the hot air heavy upon my skin, I looked boldly at Hegai’s face. I did not expect his next question, which seemed almost random, as if honor demanded he ask me something.

  “Do you wash your hair with henna?” He lifted a handful of my hair, rubbed his fingers over its strands.

  “Is there a woman in all Shushan who does not?” I answered, and saw him smile.

  “I know of two. You are one of them.” He waited, but I did not ask who the other was, for she could only be Vashti, the queen infamous for her disobedience and famous for her ivory hair. After a few moments he released my hair; I let it fall and did not attempt to arrange the strands prettily.

  Hegai regarded me steadily; I studied him in turn, seeking hints to his character. He is clever, of course, an
d I think he may be kind. He is dark, but comely … I smiled, and Hegai promptly said,

  “The world holds many beautiful women. Do you truly think yourself worthy of being presented to the Lord of Half the World, the King of Kings?”

  “Yes,” I said instantly. I expected Hegai to order me out at once, but he did not.

  “Why?” There was no emotion whatsoever in his voice.

  Why? I had not expected so many questions, or such intense ones. I hesitated; Hegai waited unmoving, and the other eunuch and the six handmaidens in the pavilion seemed turned to statues. Why was I beautiful enough—? No. No, not that. He said “worthy.” That is what he wants to know—and he wants a real answer, not “because you took the rubies; because you are bought and I am paid for.” I could think of only one reason the Chief Eunuch would ask that.

  Like my cousin Mordecai, Hegai, too, saw a crown when he looked upon me. Ice flowed through my veins as my dreams of once more living in freedom faded and reformed into the jeweled prison of the Queen’s Palace. A cold weight pressed upon my brow, tightened about my temples.…

  Terrified, I summoned all the most maddening gestures I had ever scorned in other girls. I tossed my head and shifted my weight so my body curved and twined a lock of my hair through my fingers. I slanted a flirtatious glance through my lashes at Hegai and forced my voice to become honey-sweet, my words coy. “Why, because I am so beautiful. That is what the king, may he live forever, seeks, is it not?” I laughed, the teasing ripple of sound I had often heard other maidens use when they sought to seem falsely modest.

  Still Hegai watched me and said nothing.

  “Even you called me lovely, and surely you would know!” I managed to giggle, and tossed my head again. “But I suppose you think me vain,” I prompted, praying he would dismiss me.

  “No, I think you a good judge of your face and figure. So few are.” After a moment’s silence, he said, “The bargain is sealed,” he said—softly, so that only I could hear. To the waiting eunuch, Hegai announced, “This one goes to the palace. Put down the name of…”