The Gaze of a King

Chapter Twelve | A Wedding Gift

I'm drowning in my own reflection, slipping into the void beyond the glass. The red stain on my lips brings out the color in my eyes. The powder on my face darkens the pearl embellished braids of my hair.

I don't even recognize myself. Martha strings another pearl into one of my curls, then takes a step back to admire her work.

"You look beautiful, my lady," She whispers in awe.

"Indeed, she does," A voice I recognize replies.

I break my eyes away from my reflection in the mirror and turn to see plump cheeks rising to make room for a warm smile.

"Your Highness!"

She holds up a hand.

"Please, we are about to be sisters, you and I. Call me Abigail."

She lifts a cupped palm revealing something shiny within her grasp. I stand up carefully, making sure not to trip on the train of my gown. The heavily embroidered fabric weighs down my legs and restrains my movements. I make my way to her slowly.

Light slipping through the windows of my chambers radiates from the trinket in her hand. When I'm close enough that my figure blocks the sun's rays, I can finally see the object in its entirety. It's exquisite.

"I wore this on my wedding day. I thought you would want something to keep with you to help you remember you aren't alone. I've been where you are. Well, maybe not exactly where you are, but I know how hard it is to be married to a King."

I lightly circle the rim of the golden ring with my forefinger. The ruby in the center feels cold under my skin as well as the tiny diamonds encasing it with gentle swirls. I look up at her. The creases of her eyes deepen, like her eyes are smiling into mine.

"Thank you," I whisper.

She places a warm hand on my shoulder and leans in closer.

"I want us to be there for each other. It's the only way to make life here bearable. Some of the others have a different approach to living in the palace, though. It's sad," She says, her eyes beginning to wander along with her thoughts.

"Like Michal?"

Her lips tighten. She nods her head stiffly.

"Yes. Michal has her own way of dealing with us other wives. Do not expect any warmth or kindness from her on this day."

I'm reminded of my brief encounter with her; the vulgar words that spewed from her lips. How can someone who has so much be so cruel?

"I know that look. Don't be too hard on her. She has been through so much. Who are we to judge?"

I know she is right. More than anyone I should understand. People will judge me for marrying so soon after my husband's death. Some may even speculate that I seduced my way into the palace. They will piece together the facts and draw conclusions that seem fit to them.

It isn't fair, but I've accepted this reality. Perhaps, I should give Michal the courtesy I wish to receive from others.

~*~*~*~

I watch his chest rise and fall slowly for several minutes before finding the courage to spin over onto my back. He continues to sleep undisturbed leaving me free to breathe a sigh of relief. Across from me his Majesty's open air balcony beckons the night breeze. I watch it twist and whirl, the crimson drapes dangling from the entryway columns.

I'm exhausted, but not from the festivities. The ceremony was short. And while my family attended, there was no joy beaming from their faces. It was nothing like the wedding I attended years ago... Michal's wedding.

The entire kingdom came to see them wed. Children danced in the street while maidens threw poppies in the air. Men drank to their hearts content while stealing glances from or planting kisses on their wives.

The palace was packed. The throne room dripping with flowers and fine linens. Michal looked so beautiful in her gown. Everyone present could see the way he gawked at her as she descended the aisle.

There was no love in his eyes as he looked down on me. Not the way Uriah stared breathlessly at me on our wedding day.

We said the words. Then he rushed me back to his chambers. He was so impatient to have me undressed he made a tear in my waistline.

I slide off the side of the bed quietly. The chilly air nips at my bare skin and I cover my breast with my arms to shield against it. I walk to the silver basin tucked away in the corner of the room. Next to it are fresh linens.

I wash away the sweat staining my pores. I let the cool water drip down my neck and dampen my lengthy curls. I may be his wife and he may own my body, but he will never steal the memories of the love Uriah and I had. I'll never forget the way he looked as he marched to my father's home with his groomsmen at his heels.

I had been waiting for him to come to me for weeks. He was in such a hurry he stirred up the dust in the streets. I blamed him for making me wait so long but it was soon forgotten. I smile to myself as I picture his face in my mind. I would trade anything to see him smile at me one more time.

When I no longer smell the King's scent on me, I drop the rag in the bowl and softly pad back to the bed. Instead of letting the familiar sorrow fill my heart I decide to be merciful to myself for one night. I give myself a wedding gift.

I count each and every moment I spent with Uriah in my heart. I watch every single memory in my head until I feel no sadness or remorse. I let the memories fill me with joy and dwell on them until my mind carries them into my dreams.