Nezzar

Part Two: A Parting Gift

"Do you not like your meal?" Graya asked as she settled next to Amytis. An overwhelming scent of opoponax followed her movement, further worsening Amytis' nausea. "Or are our delicacies no longer suitable for your elevated taste?"

Amytis stared down at the goblet of wine she had been sipping since she joined the feast all the while fighting a valiant battle against splashing its content on Graya's face.

How had she forgotten the existence of this thorn? The girl was now married to a top government official, perhaps one of the richest among them. Amytis could tell as much from the overcompensating presence of heavy jewellery she wore.

All in the gathering had done well to keep their distance after Amytis blatantly shunned those who approached her. Even in far-away Media, people still fell over themselves to find favour in the eyes of Nebuchadnezzar. She was fast realising it may be impossible to escape the king's shadow.

Today's celebration was in honour of Mithra, the chief god of Media. Every year, the palace threw a rich feast that spanned a week. Many dignitaries from neighbouring nations were present but this feast was prepared for wives of dignitaries and the king's daughters and female relatives. Her stepmothers were present and a host of aunts, cousins and nieces; they had been wise enough to maintain a distance but Graya seemed to have courage in spades.

"Would you not speak to me? I am still your sister even though you are now queen of great Babylon." There was a mocking tone in her voice. She reached for a meat morsel right out of Amytis' plate, ripped it in two but did not eat it. Amytis recalled that she was the type to play with her food, but what irritated her the most was that she dared to do that to Amytis' food. The sow must think Amytis was the same girl who left Media three years ago. Then she swallowed their insulting treatment and whenever she responded she used the power of her father. Now, ideas were beginning to spring up in Amytis' head—brutal ideas.

"I heard the men of Babylon are beastly and their women are not soft. I also heard interesting news some months back. Something about the king staying away from the queen. My mother said if you submit yourself to the cleansing in the western temple, you may be rid of the spirit that is planting a hedge between you and your husband..."

As Graya prattled on, Amytis controlled her breathing and struggled to shun her rising annoyance. She had chosen to make an appearance today because she had grown bored being cooped up in her chambers all day. She swirled the content of her cup, watching the red liquid go round and round.

"... perhaps King Nebuchadnezzar may be open to taking a second wife."

Amytis acted without thinking. One moment, she was gripping her goblet and the next she splashed its content against Graya's face. Her shock gasp was a sweet melody. Gracefully rising to her feet, Amytis allowed the goblet to slip from her grip. It fell on Graya's lap.

Staring down at the wet mess at her feet, Amytis made sure her condescension showed on her face. "The next time you speak vile things about Babylon to my hearing, I will show you the colour of your blood."

A hush fell upon the gathering, even the music stopped. But Amytis did not care. Turning away, she strolled out of the hall with Rubati rushing after her.

Since Amytis arrived a month ago, she has yet to see her mother. Father had welcomed her with a long embrace and it had taken a lot not to burst into tears in his arms. Her previous chambers were left intact so the feeling of familiarity and comfort was not difficult to sink into. There was one issue though, loneliness still followed her. Usman was absent. Her mother had left for Cappadocia several days before her arrival. She had no friends in this land. The only company she enjoyed was that of Rubati and there was a limit to how she could relate with a care child.