An Instrument in His Hands

Part 1 Chapter 19

Part 1

Chapter 19

I had to sit down. This wasn’t supposed to be happening! How could it? It was absurd. I took and long, deep breath.

‘W-wait, are, are, are you saying that you actually w-want to m-marry me?’

‘Would you like that?’ he asked softly as he rubbed some my hair over the palm of his hand.

I covered my face with my fingers. ‘B-but I w-would h-have to be Qu-queen someday.’ He was destined to become the next king. How was this happening to me?

He pulled them away and looked into my eyes. ‘My queen.’

I stared into them and then looked over his shoulder. ‘I c-can’t be a qu-queen. I c-can’t be a qu—queen. T-that’s ri-ridiculous.’ It was a shocking thought!

He lifted my chin towards him. ‘You will make a lovely queen. You’ve been trained for it.’

This still could not be happening. It couldn't! Hadn’t the Lord told me that I would not marry? ‘I can’t marry anyone. I don’t have a dowry,’ I stated.

‘And whose fault is that?’ he soothed.

‘You can’t pay my dowry!’

‘Our father’s have already arranged all that.’

And my family! ‘W-what a-about m-my m-mother?’ I protested. ‘A-andrew s-says s-she’ll t-try to c-conquer the L-lamanites.’ Mother would cause untold havoc with that kind of prestige.

Aaron laughed softly as he picked me up and placed me on his lap. ‘We will let her.’

‘I-I d-don’t w-want t-to b-be Qu-queen.’ It scared me to death.

‘I want you to be Queen,’ he said, and then he kissed me thoroughly.

It was hard to think while I was being kissed like that. Lovely tingles were going up and down my spine. Maybe I hadn’t heard the Lord right. I could imagine being queen if Aaron would kiss me like that every day. Hmmm...

He whispered, ‘I want you to bear my children. I want to see them playing about your knees.’ He reached his hand out as if to point at them.

I looked down at his hand, and then up into his face and felt a nice warm glow in my heart. Children. I had never thought of myself as a bearer of children. His children. I supposed that with no dowry I would never be a mother. I hadn’t thought that far ahead. Could I? What if? ‘But, I-I h-have n-n idea h-how to be a good m-mother. I d-don’t w-want to b-be like m-my own m-mother. W-what if I am?’ I protested.

He squeezed my tighter. ‘You are not your mother. You are strong and immovable and firm.’

I stiffened. ‘S-so is s-she w-when s-she w-wants something! W-what if s-she m-makes us w-wear f-fine cl-clothing or r-ride in a ch-chariot or h-have f-fine d-dinners for n-nobility?’

‘She will not live with us. Others will care for her. She will have no power over you,’ Aaron reassured, as he rubbed my curls back and forth against my back.

That was a relief to me. I slumped against his strong chest.

‘I want all our children to have your beautiful golden hair.’ He brought it forward and wrapped it around his hand and kissed it. ‘Can you imagine having a little girl with a long golden hair like yours? Our little girl?’

I could see her. I really could. I wanted that little girl to exist. But...

‘You are really good at kissing,’ I said when he finished by kissing my eyes and nose and each part of my jaw, and I forgot about all my reasons for not marrying him. “I think I like that best about you.’