Bystanders in a story of lots

Astute serving girl

Men did not seem to notice the hand that fed or fanned them, Karani had long since learned. Only Lady Esther seemed to see her as she brought grapes and pomegranates and wine from the cellars. She didn't mind. There was power in invisibility around the presence of royalty. And gods knew Karani needed what power she could seize.

She was the daughter of one of the palace's kitchen servants, father unknown. She liked to believe her father was a handsome and noble lord who would have elevated his lover, Karani's mother, from her bondage if not for the Greek dory that took his life on the battlefield. She knew it was far more likely he was a guard who coerced or manipulated an unlucky kitchen servant simply because he could get away with it. But the rational made for an inferior story, so she stuck with the fantastical.

Whatever the cause, her meager predicament gave her ample motivation to find a use for herself, young as she was. And despite what people assumed at the wretched sight of her, youth and malnutrition-induced compactness made her valuable to someone with the mind to use her.

And Lady Esther had a mind none at court could deny.

Esther had noticed her; and had employed her as a courier when Karani was but a girl of eight. The queen taught her to read and write – a useful skill for a spy, especially one typically assumed to be afflicted with the dullness-mandated illiteracy of her sex. Not once did the prying eyes of a supposedly ignorant serving girl leak useful information to the queen. As time went by, however, with the girl demonstrating her skill and discretion, the queen began granting her more... delicate tasks. Karani performed them all, glowing at the praise from the beautiful queen, determined to live up to and exceed her own accumulating successes.

Now, nearing the eleventh birthday that led her alarmingly close to womanhood and the end of her free wandering, Karani was Esther's closest attendee, trusted with the most important of diplomatic or personal missions.

For these past four days, as the most recent example, Karani's eyes and ears were tasked with following the chamberlain Haman, orchestrator of the to-be Judean genocide. In her genius, Esther had coerced the name from the Lady Afsoon, whom, Karani since unearthed, had ceased receiving letters from her mysterious friend at court after the incident. Karani was in the room at the time and was struck by the ease with which the queen puppeteered her harem rival, despite the state Esther was in.

For never before now was Esther as distraught, so urgent in her tasks. She had enemies at court, of course; anyone with a spoonful of power was at risk from jealous individuals with less and suspicious individuals with more. Twice the queen survived assassinations – the latter thanks to Karani's prewarning– but even under the threat of poison or dagger, Esther remained strong and in control. Now, the queen seemed agitated and vulnerable. She hadn't eaten for three days after Karani delivered her Judean informant's news regarding the planned massacre. She thought it odd, at first, but the realization wasn't far to follow – Esther was Judean herself!

It made so much sense – her dark, southern complexion, the hiding if her identity, the close relations with Mordecai of Judea, the toll of knowing her people's impending doom... Karani did not speak of this to a soul, not even to the queen herself. Esther must have her reason for keeping her origin a secret, and Karani knew her too well to doubt that. But the revelation did change one thing for Karani – stopping Haman was more than political maneuvering, but a personal threat to the queen who had been the world to Karani.

She would have followed the Chancellor from palace to treasury to luxurious villa even had this been a routine mission. But once home, she would have left Haman and returned to her own home, if her mother's ramshackle hole could be called that in sight of Haman's mansion. If she had, she later noted, Haman may have succeeded in his design. But she did not leave, that time; instead crouching in bushes, relying on the light of the full moon to watch while the Uzean minister built a gallows in the courtyard of his mansion.