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Betrayal
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As the crowds murmuring grew, all of them were confused since the King didn't call out the Queen of Sheba or the others, who they had been rumored to have caught the gaze of the King.
Who in the world was Ruth?
The question was raised up in every heart, while Ruth herself stood beside her mother, in the crowd, paralyzed into stillness. Her heart thudded against her chest.
She was pulled, a firm grip leading the way, and in her shocked daze, she thought it was her mother, but when she heard the cry of Adira—
“Don't do this, Barak! You—” and then she was silenced, held back by a royal guard, who apologized profusely but wouldn't remove his hold on her body or his hand from over her mouth.
This caused a small commotion among the crowd of the nobility. Ruth turned back to stare at her mother, then up at the King who looked at her, an unreadable expression on his face, and finally she stared at her father, who led her through the crowd, away from the people.
When they were in a secluded place, where the white stones of the bridge lay before them, Ruth could barely breathe.
She held her father back from taking her any further, but his grip was strong. He turned around, finally meeting her eyes, a fire in his.
“Ruth, you've kept the King waiting long enough. Get up there.”
She stared at him, like truly staring at him, and it was like she was looking at a stranger, and not her father.
“Father,” she whispered, the strength in her voice gone. “ Do I not get a say in this?”
A pause ensued.
“Why would you ever want to say no?”
His words crushed her spirit. “Please, Father, I don't want this to happen. I don't want to marry the King, and I'm hardly ready to be Queen of Moab. I can't. I will not—” she hyperventilated, the tears gathering in her eyes.
Barak’s eyes softened for a fraction of a second, but in an instant, it was as though something took over him, his frustration ignited.
He held Ruth by her shoulders, shaking her roughly, trying to bring her into her senses. And she stared at him, trying to control her breathing while her heart tore.
“Wake up!” Barak seethed. “It's time to wake up, Ruth. Look at yourself. You let the grief swallow you up that for a whole year you did nothing with your life, but grieve. Nineteen years have passed Ruth. Nineteen, and you have made nothing of yourself. You've made nothing of your life.”
“Is that,” her voice broke. She held her father's gaze, although it hurt, but she willed herself not to look away because she had to face the truth of what he had become. “Is that truly what you think of me, father?”
A sigh tore out of Barak’s chest. “Ruth, do you not see that all this is destiny.”
“You surely can't believe that.”
“I do,” he said firmly. “And one day, you will too. You will understand. You will look back on this day and thank Chemosh.”
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...
