Star of Persia: Esther's Story

by Jill Eileen Smith

He picked up his cup and sipped but did not hold it long. For the remainder of the meal, and afterward in the sitting room, he talked about becoming king, the wars with everyone but Greece, and his pride in the buildings he was in the process of constructing. He did not mention his other wives or children, and Esther did not ask.

  “You already seem to know and understand these things,” he said when he finished.

  “I was allowed to visit the king’s library, where a scribe read to me some of your exploits and the history written in the annals of kings. I hope this does not displease you.” She silently hoped she had not revealed something that might get Hegai in trouble.

  The king smiled. “I am amazed that you had interest. I have no issue against you gaining such knowledge. No other wife has ever cared what I do.”

  She searched his gaze. “I would think it very odd not to care what my husband enjoys or gives his time to do. Your words surprise me.”

  He rose and took her hand in his. “And you surprise me, Esther.” He moved his hand to the small of her back and led her into an adjoining room, his private sleeping quarters.

  Esther told herself to remain calm, but she felt her body tense at the sight of the large canopied bed. This was why she had come. She could not run or deny him what was rightfully his. Or not rightfully his, but he was the king, after all. She drew in a slow breath.

  “Are you afraid?” He turned her to face him. “I see it in your eyes.”

  She lowered her gaze for a brief moment, then looked up. “I fear, my lord, that this brings to mind my upbringing that says not to lie with a man without the benefit of marriage, of a covenant between us. I know this is not the same, for I already belong to you.”

  “Yes, you do,” he said, but there was no anger in his tone.

  Esther again lowered her head, suddenly ashamed that she had been so forthright. “Forgive me, my lord.”

  She felt the gentle pressure of his fingers lift her chin. He looked deeply into her eyes as if he were reading a scroll. “All of the women who are called to these chambers come willing to please me. They do whatever I ask them to do, and this is part of it.” He gestured toward the bed.

  “Yes, my lord. I know that it is.”

  “You do not need to fear me, Esther.”

  She simply nodded.

  “But you do.”

  She smoothed her gown. “I will do whatever you ask of me, my lord.”

  “You remind me of Vashti,” he said, his tone low, husky. “And yet you are nothing like her.” A deep sigh escaped him. “You draw out a need within me to protect you, though you are willing to do whatever I ask. You delight me, Esther.” His slight smile seemed to need her affirmation.

  “Thank you, my lord. I find myself grateful for your kindness to me.”

  Silence passed between them as he studied her. She could not decide whether she should look into his eyes or at her feet, and she longed to fidget with her sash.

  “Remove your robe,” he said at last. He took a step back from her as she did as he asked. “Now turn around slowly.”

  Heat filled her cheeks, and she prayed he did not notice as he looked at her through the sheer tunic. She expected the king to step forward and take her into his arms at any moment, but when she faced him again, he simply stood watching her. At last he stepped closer, bent to pick up her robe, and held the arms open for her.

  She put her arms through the sleeves, her mind whirling. He took the sash and tied it around her waist, his breath so close it fanned her face. Would he kiss her? Did he find her unpleasing? Was he sending her away without the benefit of becoming his wife?

  He took her hand again and walked her back to his sitting room. He led her to a couch filled with cushions, one he had occupied as they talked after the meal. Confusion swirled within her as he knelt in front of her. Her heart picked up its earlier unsettling rhythm, and she did not miss the ardent desire in his gaze.

  He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed each finger. When he came to her mother’s ring, he paused. “Tell me about this ring. It is not like the jewels I provide my women.”

  “It belonged to my mother. She died when I was a baby.”

  The comment brought a look of approval to his eyes. He smiled. “Esther. You have made me feel things tonight that I have not felt in a very long time. A sense that I must protect you at all costs has arisen within me.” He paused as if searching for the right words. “I have the strongest desire to take you to my bed, and yet I cannot. Not yet.”

  She gave him a quizzical look, not sure whether to fear or hope.

  “I want you, Esther. But I also want you to be happy, and this is a life you did not choose. So I will give you a choice. You can either marry me at week’s end and take Vashti’s place as queen of Persia . . . or you may go back to your father and marry a man of your desire. You are young and I am old in comparison. And I am not likely to ever make such an offer to anyone again. This is completely out of character for me.” He laughed lightly. “My advisors would think me mad.”

  “You would offer me this and never take me to your bed?” The idea seemed incredulous since she had spent the past year preparing for that very thing.

  He nodded. “It is as though the gods will not allow me to touch you outside of marriage. I do not understand it, but you give me a feeling that we could truly be of one heart and soul. I do not wish to mar that with rushing what you would normally expect from a husband.”

  “You wish to be my husband?”

  “Must I say it again?”

  She shook her head. “No, my lord. I am just astonished. Forgive me. I would not wish to make the king repeat his words.”

  He kissed her fingers once more. The action stirred something within her, and she found that despite their age difference, she could not refuse him. Gad had been lost to her long ago, and there was no other man in her village she would want or who would want her, now that everyone would assume she had spent a night with the king.

  She wondered if his request bordered on desire alone or if he could feel the emotion between them. Did he love her? So soon?

  “I would be most honored to marry you, my king.”

  At the king’s loud shout, she jumped. He stood and pulled her to her feet and into his arms, then twirled her about like a dancer. Laughter bubbled from deep within him, and she joined him. He set her on her feet once more and bent to kiss her cheek. “You cannot imagine how much I want you,” he whispered in her ear. “But I will wait until week’s end. In the meantime, you will return to Hegai and prepare for our wedding.”

  She smiled into his eyes, igniting a look she interpreted as love. She returned his look, hoping he could sense her feelings without words.

  “You may address me as Xerxes,” he said softly.

  She touched his cheek, for she sensed the offer was a great gift. “Thank you . . . Xerxes. It is a strong name, fit for a great king.”

  He laughed again, giddy as a young boy, and twirled her about the room. Then he led her to the door and called for his servants.

  “We have a new queen!” he announced. “Call all of my servants and bring Hegai. We have a week to prepare a wedding feast like no other for the new queen of Persia.”

  Part Three

  And the king loved Esther more than any of the other young women. He was so delighted with her that he set the royal crown on her head and declared her queen instead of Vashti. To celebrate the occasion, he gave a great banquet in Esther’s honor for all his nobles and officials, declaring a public holiday for the provinces and giving generous gifts to everyone.

  Even after all the young women had been transferred to the second harem and Mordecai had become a palace official, Esther continued to keep her family background and nationality a secret. She was still following Mordecai’s directions, just as she did when she lived in his home.

  Esther 2:17–20

  CHAPTER

  Twenty-one

  The day of the wedding had Esther out of bed with
the dawn. She stretched for the last time—truly the last time—in the bed she had occupied for a year, and went through all of the routines she had gone through hundreds of times before. This time it was not Hegai who saw to her gown, but Xerxes’ own mother, Atossa.

  The week had flown by, with servants scurrying like chased rats through the palace halls, sewing and baking and decorating the banquet hall in gold and purple and more hanging lamps than she had ever seen. Mordecai had even been elevated to a palace official, and during the rush of preparations all of the virgins who were still waiting to visit the king were transferred to his other harem. None had been given the choice he had offered to her, to return home. They might never see his face, but they belonged to him.

  Esther stepped into the gardens one last time and gazed at the pink hues of dawn with the billowy white clouds. Thank You. She knew that somehow God saw. He understood her emotions, and He had placed her in the king’s life for a reason. She searched the heavens, but there was no answer to be drawn there. If God still spoke as He had long ago, she did not hear Him. No prophet had spoken during their exile, though she had heard tales of Daniel and Ezra, who seemed to have God’s ear.

  Do You see me? For her, a mere woman, to expect an answer seemed futile. And yet, had not God spoken to Rebekah and Deborah and others of long ago? Could He not speak to her before she entered into marriage with a pagan, uncircumcised king?

  She waited, listening. A slight breeze kissed her cheeks and birds twittered their greeting as she at last moved back into her rooms, where her maids frantically accosted her.

  “Where have you been?”

  “We need to get started. You cannot be late for your wedding.”

  “You’re marrying the king!”

  Esther listened to the same delighted chatter and giggles she’d heard all week and simply smiled, then allowed them to bathe and pamper and feed and at last finally dress her. They set jewels in her ears, at her throat, and on her arms and finally placed golden sandals on her feet. They did her hair with jewels and combs and declared her ready.

  “Let me look at you,” Hegai said from the doorway.

  She turned for a last glimpse of her mentor, her friend. “Do I please you?” She smiled as she turned in a circle.

  “It is impossible for you to not please me, my queen.” He bowed. “If you will come with me now, your father is waiting to escort you to the banquet hall.”

  Esther’s heart beat hard at the realization that she would at last have access to Mordecai in a way she’d only hoped to have again. She walked with Hegai and her maids to the bend in the hall where Mordecai waited, and took his arm as they walked the rest of the way to the banquet.

  “You are ravishing, my daughter,” Mordecai said for her ears alone.

  “Thank you, Abba.” She offered him a bright smile. “This is so much more than I ever expected.”

  “It is exactly as I believed possible . . . hoped would happen. You are blessed, Ha—Esther.” He coughed at the near mistake of using her true name, but she merely laughed lightly to cover the sound.

  “They have given you a position as a palace official. I am glad.” They drew close to the banquet doors now.

  “I will still work at the city gate, but I will also have an office in the palace, working between the two.” He patted her arm. “You should know that the king asked me to place my seal on a document of marriage for your sake. He did not need to do so since you already belong to him, but he seemed to think this would please you.”

  She stopped. Looked at him and briefly touched his cheek. “Thank you for doing as he asked. His gesture makes me even more aware that God has allowed this for a purpose.”

  “Perhaps you will do much good for the people.” He walked them to the doors, where guards waited to announce her presence.

  She glanced back and saw that Hegai and her maids had disappeared, probably finding another way to watch and help with the festivities. She had requested her maids follow her into her marriage, and Xerxes had readily agreed. Hegai could deny her nothing. She only wished she could have kept him as her eunuch.

  “It is time,” Mordecai said, releasing her hand.

  “Yes.” She drew in a breath as the doors opened and the trumpets announced her arrival.

  Servants took her from Mordecai’s side and escorted her to a seat near the king’s throne. Mordecai was seated at a table with the king’s nobles. The king’s throne remained vacant, but Esther knew that he would appear last.

  Her nerves betrayed her as a slight shiver worked through her. All eyes were on her until the louder trumpets blared and the king followed his flag bearers into the hall. Her breath caught at the finery he wore, an ornate robe with purple trimmed in gold, fit for the monarch he was. How could he have possibly found her desirable? She was Hadassah, a simple Jewish girl. But he did not know that.

  He took his seat upon the gilded throne and extended the scepter to her, bidding her to rise. She stood and walked gracefully up the steps, then took the throne placed there for her to sit beside him.

  He rose from his seat once she was settled, and a guard brought a royal crown resting in an alabaster box. Xerxes lifted it out and placed it on her head. “Now, my sweet girl, you are officially my wife and my queen.” His whispered words spoken with intensity matched the passion in his green eyes. He was indeed handsome.

  As he took her hand to lift her to her feet, he turned them to face the crowd. “Behold, today Persia has a new queen! Queen Esther!” His voice boomed in the hall, which quickly erupted in cheers.

  Xerxes smiled at the effect of his words. Once the noise quieted, he led her to a table where the two of them ate, facing the people who also indulged in the king’s plenteous feast.

  “Tonight cannot come soon enough,” he said, leaning close to her ear. He lifted his cup and offered her a drink from it.

  She sipped and smiled into his eyes. “No, it cannot,” she said, cheered at the ardent fire in his gaze. For a moment, she wondered if he would whisk her away from the feast before it could end, but he was a gracious host and allowed the celebration to last long into the night.

  When at last most of the guests were besotted with wine, he took her hand and they walked together, surrounded by guards, toward his suite of rooms. “Are you afraid?” he asked as they crossed the threshold, the question he had asked her a week ago.

  She looked at him and gave him a slow, sultry smile. “No longer, my lord.”

  He laughed. “How you delight me, Esther my queen.” He removed her crown and placed it on a table, then slowly undid the belt at her waist and set the garment over a chair. He moved her up the step where the canopied bed sat, its curtains opened to show flower petals on the pillows and sheets made of the softest silk.

  He bent low to kiss her, pulling the combs and jewels from her hair. She waited, spellbound, uncertain. But at last she reached for his robe and pulled it from his shoulders. Servants should hang up such a rich garment, but he did not allow her to carefully drape it anywhere. She dropped it where they stood.

  He lifted her in his arms and set her among the flower petals, then sat beside her and took her face in his hands. His kiss deepened, and she felt her heart race as his finger traced her chin, her neck, and stopped at the pulse at her throat. “You are beautiful. My most favored one.”

  He closed the curtains before she could say a word in response.

  CHAPTER

  Twenty-two

  Xerxes gazed at Esther as she slept, marveling at the way her expression held such peace, her dark hair splayed over the pristine white cushion beneath her head. He had found not a single flaw in her and had quickly concluded that she surpassed even Vashti in beauty.

  He released a deep, contented sigh as he shifted slightly on one elbow. Esther stirred and opened her eyes to meet his gaze. Her smile, slow and appreciative, caused a greater sense of protectiveness to rise within him. Did she love him? Could she love him? Without doubt he loved her. She had plea
sed him like no other.

  “You are awake,” he said, surprised at the huskiness in his voice. What was this new feeling of exuberant joy? He was not one to grow flustered like this. Never like this. But Esther . . . he could not stop the need to touch his lips to hers.

  “I find you have tempted me beyond reason,” he said when he felt confident that his voice would not again betray him.

  She wrapped both arms around his neck and pulled him closer. “I am glad,” she whispered against his ear. “If I were not a temptation, you might not find me pleasing.” She kissed him, this time not waiting for him to take the lead as she had the night before.

  He laughed when she pulled away, and they both caught their breath. “How bold my queen has become!” He drew her closer. “It is a good thing that I am king. We can take a week, a month, however long we wish, to be together.” He brushed a length of hair behind her ear. “Does that please you, my love?”

  She cupped his stubbled cheek. “Very much, my king.”

  “I will know we have made progress when you call me Xerxes without fear.” He sat up and helped her to rise. “Let us see what they have set for us to break our fast.”

  They soon settled at a large table near the window, where he had fed her the night he thought he could claim her as he had every other concubine. But that night had changed him forever.

  “Today I will show you the rooms that will be yours as queen. They are not yet ready, so you will stay with me until they are. Does this please you?” He could send her to the second harem, but then Amestris would lord it over her that she had separate apartments while Esther, his queen, did not. He would not allow Amestris to gloat over this woman. Not now. Not ever.

  “That would please me very much . . . Xerxes. I am anxious to see what you have prepared for me, but I am grateful for every moment we can spend together.” She took a date and kissed it before offering it to him.

  He bit into it and then bent to kiss her again. This woman never ceased to amaze him. How bold she had become for one so young, and yet so graceful and even obedient. Not like Amestris or Vashti. She captured his imagination in ways he did not understand.