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Queen
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In the midst of the chaos of preparation, King Eglon stood, staring up at the fountain, hidden by the claok.
Around him, musicians prepped themselves with their trumpets, flutes, and drums. Women walked up and down with the food that would be served. Old fine wine wasn't poured into jars, and on the pillars of Kavod, hangings of purple and white were hung.
“ Your majesty,” the cupbearer spoke, gaining the King's attention, for a moment.
“ Nerve-wracking, isn't it? Would you say it would be worth the attention of the crowd.”
Looking up at the hidden fountain, the cupbearer’s expression remained thoughtful.
“Nerves?” King Eglon uttered. “Not quite.”
“I haven't seen it yet, but I have no doubt it's immaculate. That crazy old man is gifted by the gods. Even if he were to go blind, he would still be…the best.”
“You say so, your majesty.”
“I know so. I don't take pleasure in praising him, believe me. Where is that wretched man, anyway? He's supposed to be here for the unveiling.”
King Eglon looked around the organized commotion of people who all had a job to do to make the event nothing less than glorious.
Clearing his throat, the cupbearer sighed, pulling something out from his sleeves. A small note.
“ This was given to me by the Hebrew man who works with Sir Amos. Apparently, he left that hebrew man in charge.”
King Eglon gave his cupbearer a look, as if to verify, what he was saying, was not mindless jargon, then off the honest look, his cupbearer gave him he stared at the note, a weighted gaze.
Taking it, from the man's hands, King Eglon took a breath, reading it.
I don't want to be a witness to your happiness. —AMOS
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Her waist length brown dreads were held up into a bun that displayed the glow upon her face, highlighting the fierce look in her eyes. White may have been the colour she was born to dress in. The sheath dress was a perfect fit, and those linings of gold complemented the jewelry she wore.
As Ruth came down the stairs, slowly because she was lost in thought, Adira stared at her daughter, with both admiration and fear brimming from her heart, battling with each other.
Ruth looked so much like a queen, and nothing less than herself that it would be impossible to refute, that her fate was not with the King.
“Your father is waiting in the chariot. Come, Ruth.”
Turning away, Adira walked out of the house, finding her breath again, easing the tension in her chest.
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When the guests started pouring into Kavod in the early evening, all anticipating the events of the night, turning to stare, up at the hidden fountain, the rumours began.
“Obviously the King is choosing another concubine,” one man at a table, filled with a feast, said.
“The King wouldn't cause all this commotion, for a concubine.” A woman beside him disagreed. “Those things are done more discreetly.”
“ The concubine is said to be different.” The man argued.
“You're both wrong.” Another man from the other end of the table said, making the whole table laugh
YOU ARE READING
Ruth: Reimagined
Romance"I want you to belong to someone Ruth." Adira said, her voice softer. "I want you to be able to breathe in a world where everything is placed on a woman's chest, on her back and tied to her legs and then she's told to be beautiful, to be good enoug...
