The Gaze of a King

Chapter Fifteen | An Unlikely Visitor

Ever since the attempt on my life I have been sheltered by the King in his own chambers. My only taste of freedom is when I glimpse a view past these palace walls into the heart of Jerusalem herself.  This window has been a solace to me these days.

When the King is here I feel suffocated by his presence. When he is gone I am consumed by loneliness. I have yet to decide which of the two is a more bitter poison.

A gentle knock pulls my attention from the bustling city view beneath. I turn from the windowsill, cautiously approaching the door.

"Who's there," I call, my hand hesitating to turn the latch.

"It is I, Michal."

All hesitation dissipates. I wrench the door open, revealing a battered woman with a deeply cut lip. Despite her bruised and swollen cheek, she stands tall, her chin held high. The weighty door budges an inch as I give it another tug; wide enough for her to slip through.

Releasing my grip of the handle sends the door slamming shut behind her. She pulls back the hood of her dark, velvety cape, her injuries now fully exposed. Despite the blue splotches staining her olive- toned skin, there is no denying her beauty.

Quiet settles between us as she stands, feet planted, her back to me. I wait, wondering if I should speak, but not knowing what to say. I begin to fidget with my fingers, furiously picking at the loose skin surrounding my nail bed.

"You must be wondering why I have come," She finally asks, breaking the silence.

"I will say I am surprised," I admit.

She shifts gradually on her heels, rotating fully to meet my gaze.

"If I only I were able to hide my shame from the world as you do now," She scoffs lightly.

My eyebrow perks up at her words.

"The King was wrong to strike you, but I am not here to hide my shame. I am under the Kings protection. My life was put in harms way. It may very well still be in danger!"

She gracefully raises a hand, as if to soothe the tingling of rage ready to spike through my blood.

"I meant no offense, Bathsheba. We both know that this unfortunate turn of events is only benefiting one person."

I narrow my eyes on her. The corner of her lip unmarked by the Kings hand turns upward slightly, in the smallest of grins.

"The King," I realize.

She nods her head in agreement.

"Enemies surround you, Bathsheba. Your presence here not only offends the sanctity of marriage, but stains the royal family in scandal. You must be watchful. Trust no one. Especially the King."

My eyes cast downward at my bulging stomach. I clutch my belly as I release a sigh. My one source of comfort through everything is the child I bear inside me.

"You did not have to stand up for me. In fact, I would have expected you to condemn me in front of the King."

Unexpectedly, Michal reaches out a hand and gently squeezes my wrist.

"I have stayed too long. I better take my leave now," She sighs, raising the hood of her darkened cloak over her dark tresses.

The sound of her light footfall grows softer as she reaches the door. The hinges whine as she tugs the heavy door ajar.

"Wait," I call after her, halting her steps.

She turns her neck ever so slightly, the rest of her body kept perfectly still.

"Yes?"

Nerves course through me. The question I have been harboring has gnawed at me since I first encountered Michal. I will admit that I am afraid to hear the answer, but I am more afraid of never knowing the truth. I take a deep breath. Then, strain to swallow.

"Why do you hate me so much?"

I see a hint of a smile emerge followed by a sharp yet brief laugh. She shakes her head, the jewels adorning her forehead swaying mildly.

"I do not hate you, Bathsheba," She asserts.

"I envy you."

My eyes ask her the question my mouth is unable to form. I am speechless. Michal yanks the door toward her with a sense of urgency. I watch in stunned silence as she effortlessly slips away. A loud thud echoes through the Kings chambers signaling my loneliness to re-emerge.