Jezebel

Part one: 2

Anat clutched the half-written letter with trembling fingers. Heartbroken tears swam in her vision, blurring the fine sweep of Ahab's handwriting.

"Mistress, what does it say?"

Anat blinked and the action caused a fat drop of tears to hit the parchment, creating a dark brown splatter. "It's nothing." She cleared her throat and forced a smile. "You may leave now. I thank you for bringing this to me." She lifted the parchment.

"Oh... alright. I would return at sunset to prepare your bath."

Anat barely nodded as Mara left, shutting the door quietly behind her. Still gripping the letter, Anat made her way to her cushioned recliner in a daze.

How could he? The content of the parchment was clear enough...or was it? Maybe if she read it once more something different would be revealed--something that would explain away the nightmare that was fast becoming her reality. Raising the letter, she carefully read its content, her heart desperately hoping--praying that she read wrong the first time.

This letter is from Ahab, son of Omri and King of Israel.

I am writing to you, Jezebel, the fair daughter of King Ethbaal and the princess of Sidon.

May your days be brighter than your enchanting eyes and your nights as fair as the day you were created...

Anat paused, fighting the urge to fling the accursed parchment across her room. Ahab had never used such endearing terms with her. The only time he spoke anything remotely good about her features was the day he married her two years ago. She could still recall his exact words.

"Your eyes are deep and soulful, quite lovely."

That was it. But Ahab loved her. He said so himself. All those times they had grown together. How he said only she could make him laugh like nothing mattered.
But he wants another. 

Jealousy swelled inside her. Sighing, she sank deeper into the recliner before lifting the letter to continue her self-torture.

I have not forgotten you. You remind me of a sweet dream, the kind that remains with you for years--always lingering and sparking excitement.

My intentions are still clear. I want you as my wife. Wouldn't you want that, too--to sit by my side and rule? We would make an exquisite pair, don't you think?

Not long from now, fair flower, I would be coming to ask for your hand. It may interest you to know that the possibility of us getting married was lightly discussed by your father and my late father. Surely, you have heard of his sad demise. This year has been an accursed one for me--

The letter ended, a black splotch of ink had splatted over the scroll, ruining it permanently. Anat let it drop to her lap as she mourned her fate. Ahab wanted to marry another woman, a foreigner he was obviously besotted by.

Why did he marry her if he knew he already wanted another? She knew why. He was a king and he could do whatever he pleased--take whatever he wanted.

Anat cursed her existence. It would have been much easier if she didn't love Ahab--if she wasn't enamoured by his impossible good looks... his sense of humour.

I hate this.

Covering her mouth with a palm, she wept--doubling over and wrestling the sobs that threatened to tear through her lips.

What hurt more was the knowledge of his destination, the purpose of his visit to the land of Sidon. Ahab was going to her, he was going to this--she lifted the parchment to read the name--this Jezebel. Anat could picture the new bride coming to the palace, stealing the heart of her beloved, a heart that was never hers, to begin with.