The Gaze of a King

Chapter Thirty- Five | Painful Regrets

The sound of my breathing and the pounding of my heart beat in my ears drowned out the sounds of everything else around me. That's why when two broad arms squeezed me against a warm, taut torso- I let out a startled gasp.

"Shh, it's me," whispered King David soothingly in my ear. I relaxed into him slightly.

"You didn't think I was going to let you leave distressed as you clearly were." It was a statement. But I answered anyways.

"I need to be alone." I pulled against his hold in vain. His arms wrapped tighter around me in protest.

"You have been alone long enough, Bathsheba."

Tears flooded my face unabashedly. I relented my fight against him and slowly sunk into his warmth. I laid the back of my head on his chest as silent tears stained my red silk dress. He inhaled deeply, smelling my unkempt hair.

"I told you once that no one sees me as you do. . . But it's the same for you Bathsheba. No one sees you as I do. You don't have to be strong with me. You can just be."

I pushed off his lap to finally face him. His arms shifted to clasp my lower back.

"I hate myself." I admitted.

He captured his chin with his forefinger and thumb.

"Then, you're in good company." He smirked at me and I breathed out a halfhearted giggle.

"I still hate you," I spit.

"Then, you're in good company." He answered without missing a beat.

I turned around and melted into his torso again.

"Will you stay with me tonight?"

I felt him nod a yes into my heap of hair. Then, without a moments notice he scooped me up in his arms effortlessly and carried me to my bed. He placed me softly on top of the pallet of fabrics and pillows. I stared at him for a lengthy moment wondering if he would dare to lay beside me. He didn't. He knelt down beside the bed and laid himself on the floor.

"I'll be right here," he whispered up to me. "You're not alone."

I grabbed a couple of my softest pillows and threw them to the floor as an offering of gratitude. Then, it turned to my side and curled up on the edge of the bed. I could watch his chest rising and falling slowly.

"Why did you have to kill him?"

He sat up immediately. His eyes locked mine with a new intensity I had not witnessed before.

"How long have you known?"

"Zev told me..."

He nodded his head slowly, processing the information I had just revealed.

"I tried to prevent it. I brought him to Jerusalem so he would bed you and your name would be cleared when your condition became known. He refused to see you while his men were still fighting the battle. With him gone and you're condition becoming increasingly known I had to save you. It was either him or you. They would have stoned you in the streets and there would have been nothing I could do to stop the mob."

I had no words. What kind of reply could I muster? I sank back into my mattress. Uriah deserved so much better.

"It's all my fault," I whispered to myself, but he heard it.

"The fault is mine. I should have married you before he ever had the chance to. Your father advised me against it. He was afraid of Michal's treatment of you- sure you would invoke her wrath. Uriah was his choice for you. A good man, a man not involved in court politics. A brave man. Honorable. I couldn't curb my desire for you. I thought once you were married off my desire would dwindle... but I was wrong. The fault is mine, Bathsheba. Mine alone."

I closed my eyes shut, trying to stop the tears that trickled down my face. My pillow soaked the up one by one as they fell. Silence settled over us as the heavy weight of regret lingered in the room. I took my regrets with me into my dreams.