The Gaze of a King

Chapter Forty -Nine | Love Unfailing

David stands before me, his face a mask of worry and weariness. The lines around his eyes are deeper now, etched by years of war, rule, and guilt. His shoulders sag under the weight of a crown that has grown heavier with each passing day. I watch him, the man chosen by God, the man who brought me into this palace, into this life of complexity and contradiction.

"Bathsheba," he begins, his voice hoarse, as if he has been shouting orders for hours—or perhaps praying. "I need to speak with you. Alone."

I nod, motioning for the servants to leave the room. I hold Solomon close, sensing the urgency in David's tone, the fear that underpins every word. He takes a step closer, his eyes searching mine, as if seeking something he cannot name.

"The rebellion..." he starts, then pauses, his voice catching. "Absalom is determined. He will stop at nothing to take the throne, and with Ahithophel at his side, I fear he may succeed." He reaches out, his fingers brushing against Solomon's cheek. "I need you to leave, Bathsheba. Take Solomon and go where you will be safe."

I feel a jolt of surprise, mixed with a stab of pain. "You want me to leave you?" I whisper. "To flee like a coward?"

His eyes widen, and I see a flicker of shock there. "No, not a coward," he insists. "A mother protecting her child. Absalom's wrath will be great, and I cannot... I will not risk you or Solomon... I cannot bear losing another child."

I look up at him, feeling the swell of emotion and defiance rise within me. "I have told my father I will not leave you, and I tell you the same, David. I will not go."

His brow furrows, his expression a mix of confusion and something deeper—something like awe. "Why?" he asks softly, almost to himself. "Why do you stay, Bathsheba, after all that I have done?"

I take a breath, my heart racing. The emotions I tried in vain to suppress are lingering on the tip of my tongue. "Because I love you," I say, my voice firm. "I love you despite everything! Despite the wrongs, despite the losses. You are my husband, my king. Where you are, I will be."

His hand moves to my cheek, and he looks at me as if seeing me for the first time. "I do not deserve your loyalty," he whispers, his voice breaking. "I have brought you so much pain... I took you from your home, from your husband. I... I caused his death. I stained our love with blood."

I feel a tear slip down my cheek, but I do not look away. "Yes," I whisper. "You did all of those things. And yet, here I stand. Not because I must, but because I choose to. You are more than your sins, David. You are a man after God's own heart. And you are the man I love, despite the scars, despite the darkness."

He draws a shuddering breath, and I see the moisture in his eyes. "Bathsheba," he murmurs, as if my name is a prayer on his lips. "I have wronged you, I have wronged so many. I have tried to be just, to be righteous, but I have failed... and still, you stay."

I reach up, my fingers tracing the lines on his face, the stubble of his beard, the marks of time and regret. "Because I know your heart, David," I say softly. "I know the man you are beneath the crown and the armor. I have seen your tears, your repentance. I have seen you humbled before the Lord, and I have seen you rise again."

His hand covers mine, his grip tight, desperate. "I love you, Bathsheba," he says, and I hear the depth of his feeling, the rawness that he hides from others. "I love you with a love I do not deserve, a love that has cost so much. But I am afraid... afraid for you, for Solomon, for all our children. I could not bear to lose you."

I lean forward, my forehead resting against his, feeling the warmth of his breath, the tremor in his touch. "And I could not bear to leave you, my lord. My place is here, beside you, come what may."

He closes his eyes, a tear slipping free, tracing down his cheek. "I have prayed to God to forgive me," he whispers, "but I have never dared to pray for your forgiveness. And yet... here you are, forgiving me with every breath, every word."

I smile through my tears, feeling the love swell within me like a rising tide. "We are broken, David," I say softly. "But we are broken together. And together, we are whole. I do not need your perfection. I need you, just as you are."

He pulls me close, his arms around me and Solomon, holding us both as if we are the only anchor in a storm-tossed sea. "Then stay," he murmurs, his lips brushing my hair. "Stay with me, my love, my Bathsheba. And I will fight for you, for our son, for all that we have built together. I will not let Absalom take it from us."

I rest my head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, the rhythm of a man who has known both greatness and failure, who has sinned and repented, who loves with a fierce, unyielding passion.

"I will stay," I whisper back. "Until the end of days, David. I will stay."

He holds me tighter, and in his embrace, I feel a strength that does not waver, a love that does not falter. The world outside may crumble, kingdoms may rise and fall, but in this moment, we are unbreakable. We are one.