Jewel of Persia Read Online Free PDF

in the next second, Ima’s tears mixed with hers.
    This was not how she should have felt upon her betrothal. This was not the betrothal she should have had. Had she not been thinking just minutes before about marrying Mordecai? Now he would think her dead. And Esther . . .
    “Ima, please.” She spoke in a whisper at her mother’s ear. “Please tell Esther the truth. She should not have to face yet another death.”
    Ima’s sobs hitched. “I dare not cross your father on this. I know how it will hurt her, but we will comfort each other.”
    There was nothing to do but nod. And wonder who would be there to comfort her .
     
    ~*~
     
    Zechariah stood just inside the doorway, where the cool breezes brought by the rain could whisper over his skin. Behind him, the house was silent. No weeping, no mourning, no frantic prayers to a deaf God. No more pleas to the heavens that Kasia be returned to them.
    His nostrils flared as he swallowed back anger and grief. They knew he had been listening. Still, they expected him to play along. To bid his favorite sister farewell as if she were only running an errand. To wonder with the others where she was when darkness fell and the rains came with it. To search the banks of the swollen river long into the night.
    He had done what they expected. Had trudged back home with a solemn Mordecai a few hours earlier. Had held his tongue. But his heart—his heart cried out to Jehovah, “Why? Why did your creation help in this terrible ruse?”
    He had thought, when he heard Abba’s plan, that it would never be believed. But then the unexpected monsoon had rolled in, and it became all too possible that a girl could have fallen into the river and been carried away. Never to be found, never to be seen again.
    That much, at least, was true. She might as well have been swallowed by the palace, never to emerge again. Except, of course, when the king’s household left Susa and headed to its summer home at Persepolis. When would that be? Another month? A fortnight? Soon. They never stayed longer than half a year.
    Zechariah folded his arms over his chest and watched the water drip from the roof. It seemed as though in a few minutes, Kasia would come stumbling from the room she shared with the other girls to get breakfast started. She would smile, joke about his secretive nightly training. He would tease her about her suitors.
    It was her beauty that cursed her. He had known her face was exceptional—it was hard to miss when his friends stared constantly—but he had never thought she would gain the attention of the king. That did not happen in their neighborhood, to their community. It should not have happened to his sister. Why could the king not have given his attention to the women of his own country, who would be honored and pleased to become another of his concubines?
    Light footfalls alerted him that he was no longer alone a moment before Esther’s soft voice broke the stillness. “Any word?”
    He turned, saw that her eyes were red and swollen, circled with dark shadows. She had stayed with the younger girls through the night but obviously had not slept much. Zechariah shook his head. “I cannot imagine there will be any, at this point.”
    Esther blinked rapidly. “How can you say that? Perhaps she took shelter with someone.”
    “They would have heard us searching.” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. These lies tasted like wormwood. Did the king realize he was chipping off another shard of this young girl’s heart? As if he would care, even if he knew. “I am sorry, Esther. But Kasia is gone.”
    The shake of her head was violent, and the tears she had blinked away from her eyes ripped from her throat. “No. I cannot accept it. She is . . . she was . . . oh, Zechariah, it is all my fault! She never would have gone down to the river yesterday, but for me. She must have been looking for my bracelet.”
    “Esther, no.” He raked a hand over his hair. How could Abba insist