The Gaze of a King

Chapter Forty- Three | Like Father Like Son

A few months later...

I hurried as fast as my swollen ankles would carry me, palm resting on my equally swollen stomach. The servants at each of my sides look at each other with concern etched in their eyes. I grimaced as the ache in my lower back began to intensify from the weight I was carrying in my front. I pushed through, huffing with each exhausting step. When we reached Abigail's quarters, the doors were already opened.

I shooed away my servants. They bowed silently then went their own way. Inside the chambers, Abigail was lying in her bed, covered with blankets all the way up to her chest. Servants carrying bowls of water, cloths stained with blood, and bloodied water, hurried around the room. Abigail spotted me immediately despite all the commotion.

Her face was covered in sweat, cheeks pink, but she was smiling brightly. I gave her a smile in return. I had missed her all these months she was under house arrest. It was not until I had fully entered the room that I realized David was already here. His back was turned to me, and he was beaming down at Abigail. When I approached her bed, I could see him bouncing the small bundle in his arms.

Confusion struck me. Why was he holding the baby? Abigail did not look concerned, so I relaxed. Still the question nagged at me. That was until I peeked over David's arm to look at the newborn babe Abigail just delivered... And I saw the fiery red curls poking through his swaddling clothes. I looked up at David then down at Abigail, the truth burning in my throat.

"Congratulations," I managed to say to them both. "Is it a boy or a girl?"

"A son," David answered with no hesitation. "His name is Daniel."

I clutched my stomach instinctively. I felt a tiny kick. Could my unborn child feel my distress? Was his tiny kick his way of offering assurance and support? I liked to think so. "Do you want to hold him," Abigail asked weakly. I shook my head no and backed up a tiny step.

"I'm actually feeling quite tired... I hurried over here so fast when I received the news. I better go lie down. I apologize." Abigail's eyes were understanding, though her smile weakened at my resistance to hold her newborn baby.

Neither of them said a word. The coos of their newborn baby filled the Awkard silence I had created. As I walked towards my chambers, I spotted Michal. She looked like she was headed toward Abigail's chambers. She halted her steps. Her eyes raked over me from head to toe. Did I imagine it or did her gaze linger more than a second longer on my stomach?

"A Son?"

I nodded my head, answering her question. Her lips tightened, the only sign she was experiencing any emotion.

"I wonder if he will keep Absalom as heir, even though he has left his father's house since what happened with poor Tamar. These are uncertain times, Bathsheba. Stay sharp."

She resumed walking towards her destination and so did I. Once hidden behind my chamber doors I slid to the floor. I cupped my mouth with both hands and choked on a violent sob that wracked my body. Tears drenched my face and cheeks, sliding off my chin. The same words echoed in my head over and over: David's Son. The image that accompanied those words was those wild tufts of curly red hair. He lied to me. It wasn't that he had been with another women, it was that he fed me a lie that I was the only one he wanted, and I drank it up until I was drunk on the delusion.

He made me feel special. Like no other woman could even turn his head, except me. It was a farce. So, I sobbed because of my own stupidity. I sobbed because of my wounded pride. And I kept sobbing because I trusted someone I should have known never to trust.