Queen Esther's Secret - A Short Story on Purim


     
Trembling from head to foot, Esther stood before the engraved doors that led to the throne room. Two eunuchs stood on either side, their eyes fixed forward, waiting to see if she would dare bid them to open them. Drawing a shaky breath, she reached up a hand and adjusted the narrow circlet on her glossy hair. Her fingers fluttered to make sure her necklace was straight, her dress smooth, every bit of silk and finery was perfect. If the king did not find her lovely, and extend his scepter in welcome to her, her raiment would become a funeral shroud.
     “Open the door,” her voice came out as little more than a whisper.
     “My Queen, are you certain-” one of the eunuchs began, but she straightened her shoulders and spoke louder.
     “Open the door!”
     The double doors were pulled open, and she stood facing the great throne room. Chatter hushed as faces turned her way. She stepped into the opulent room, uninvited, uncalled for, and dropped her gaze humbly. She walked forward in a whisper of silk, her embroidered slippers peeking out from her long skirts as she moved. The hair on her arms stood on end, and fear clawed her insides even more than the hunger of her fast, but she kept going until she was just before the raised, ornate throne. She saw only the kings feet, she dared not look any higher. A long moment of silence followed, where all she heard was her pulse in her own ears.
     “Queen Esther,” a soft voice spoke above her bowed head, and she slowly lifted her chin until her eyes met that of her husband, the ruler of 127 provinces, the wealthiest, most powerful man in the world. She looked to his outstretched hand, and saw his golden scepter stretched towards her. Relief flooded her, and she smiled. His gaze softened on her. She had not spoken with him for over a month. His dark eyes caressed her face, and traveled over her frame. She knew he thought her beautiful.
     “What is troubling you, Queen Esther?” he asked, setting the scepter down. His hand stroked his oiled beard, and the other rested on the arm of his throne. “What is your request of me? Even up to half the kingdom it shall be given to you.”
     Esther's heart leaped within her breast. She opened her mouth to spill out her request, but then paused. How could she ask him to recant a royal decree without preparing him beforehand?
     “If it would please the king, may the king and Haman come to a banquet I have prepared for him.”
The king looked pleased, and inclined his head. Esther walked backwards from the throne, until the king nodded, then turned and left the room in a flutter of skirts and nerves. When she was out of the room, she hastened to her apartments, her mind flying. Hathach was waiting for her, and his dark face broke into a smile when he saw her.
     “The king is coming for a banquet,” Esther said, her pulse flying. “Quick! Summon the best food and wine from the kitchens.” Hathach grinned, and ran from the room.
     She looked to her maidservants, and their eyes widened, knowing the king would soon arrive.             They hastened to draw couches together, to light fragrant incense, to replenish the cut flowers in the vases.
     The room was a flurry of movement, but Esther stood apart, praying for wisdom and guidance. The lives of her people depended on her. She went to her table, withdrew the parchment from where she had hidden it, and read again the genocide orders prepared for the Jews. Haman had poured honeyed lies into the ears of the King, and now the King's seal on the wax permitted the slaughter of every Jewish man, woman and child on the thirteenth day of the twelfth month.
     Esther dropped the paper, and put her her face into her hands. She was only an orphan, raised by her uncle, a girl without royal background, with no training in the intrigues and politics of court. Her people had been dragged from their homeland as plunder, and were scattered throughout this foreign land where the people bowed to false gods.
     Did the one true God truly see one such as her? Would He help her save His people?
     “Perhaps you had been raised to royalty, for just such a moment as this,” her uncle Mordecai had said when he had sent the parchment to her.
     “You're majesty,” Hathach said, and she lifted her face. He was a devoted servant, and he smiled kindly on her now. “The king approaches. Prepare yourself.”
     Esther drew a deep breath, and tried to stifle her nerves. She placed herself gracefully near an urn of flowers, the light of a lamp illuminating her gown and flickering off her jewels. When the king strode into the room, she was the first thing he would see.
     “Smile, your majesty,” Hathach whispered. Her heart in her throat, Esther smiled graciously as the doors were thrown open, and the King and the murderous Haman strode into her apartments.

To Be Continued . . .

Click here for part two!





Read this Story for yourself in Esther 4:9-5:4

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