by Summer Lee
Home was now far away. And she had to remind herself again that this was her new home. Life with Jubal was her destiny.
*
That night, Kenana slept alone in her own room. The same was true for the next night, and the next. Soon a week passed, and then two. She saw little of Prince Jubal in this time, who was often preoccupied with the running of his small empire.
Finally, on a warm spring night, Jubal summoned Kenana into his bedchamber for the sole purpose of making love to her.
She arrived at his door with a servant, and Kenana exchanged nervous glances with the older woman by her side who put a tender hand on Kenana’s shoulder.
“It will be all right, madam. The prince is a gentle lover.”
“How do you know this?”
The servant blushed and turned away. Kenana was left alone outside the room. She took a deep breath, and, heart racing, opened the door and stepped inside. She discovered she was sweating profusely.
“Shut the door, my flower,” said Jubal’s aged voice from the depths of the massive room.
She did so quietly, but didn’t move.
“Come in. Come in.”
His temperament had changed from days past. The harsh tone was now full of lust, and slurred by wine. Obviously, he had had too much to drink tonight, and had decided now was a time to finally deflower his bride.
But we’ve been through this before, haven’t we, Prince Jubal? she thought. She wasn’t even going to pretend to be innocent and if he made a fuss about her maidenhead being gone, she would throw it in his face, that he was the one who had taken it when she was but a little girl, molesting her on one of her father’s trips. She wondered if, in his old age, he didn’t even remember.
Her own memory was murky at best, the details incomplete in her mind. But she was left with the core certainty that this old man had taken advantage of a little girl’s trust, and she did not know if she could ever get over the hate and revulsion that she felt for him.
And now, she was expected to bed him as his wife.
Well, then. Her duty was her duty, right? What had to be done as a proper wife must be done. The past be damned. This was a new chapter in her life.
“Husband, I am here,” she said submissively, which was contrary to her boiling inner rage.
Jubal was lying on his bed, half dressed in his undergarments. His gray curly chest hair was prominent on his white skin. He was grinning stupidly and drunkenly. “That’s it, my flower. Come to your husband.”
Repulsed and sickened, she did.
Chapter Ten
Kenana was lonely. She yearned for the excitement she had felt dancing on her wedding night in Malluch’s arms. He had held her so close; she knew he wanted her. She wanted him as well. But could an angel love a woman? Wasn’t his duty simply to protect and guide her?
Longing for a close friend to share intimate secrets with, Kenana decided that what she needed was a surrogate sister. She chose Sarah, often summoning the maid to join her for cups of tea and honey cakes. To Kenana, Sarah did not look like a servant; in fact, she looked more like a princess with her dark hair cascading down over her slender shoulders.
“Something is very wrong,” Kenana said one night as the two girls sat in the middle of her bed with a small jug of wine between them. “I’m frightened at night, and often feel suffocated. I believe I have an enemy here in the palace.”
Sarah frowned, skeptical. “You’re the princess of Adah, with guards all around. The wealth and attention should give you security.”
“Money and attention don’t solve all problems. I feel cursed when I’m here, and I have horrible childhood memories of this place.”
“What kind of memories?”
Kenana inhaled. She did not want to relive the memories, but she needed to share her pain with someone. “As a child, I traveled to the palace often with my father on his trips. Father ignored the fact that Jubal often took me to his room. Never asked what Jubal did to me in there. Never questioned his friend, simply let the old man have his way with me. I have frightening memories of Jubal’s bed. And pain.” Kenana felt her face grow hot with anger and embarrassment.
“This is not a safe haven for any girl, including me.” Sarah looked away. “We are merely animals in cages, here for his amusement. We cannot do anything against him.”
So, thought Kenana, my memories of Jubal are true.
Kenana said, “Why didn’t you run away?”
“I did, once.”
“What happened?”
“Jubal sent his men after me. I lasted one day on my own. It was the greatest day of my life. Of course, I was beaten upon my return, but that small taste of freedom was worth the beating.”
“I would like to run away, too,” said Kenana.
“What is stopping you?”
A brief image of Malluch crossed her mind. “I have nowhere to run to. And if I run, will it go so far as to start a war or even some sort of blood feud between this house and my father’s?”
“We are both trapped in this house, then.” Sarah’s words were slurring; they had had much to drink. “But at least you are royalty. I am but a slave. You have everything handed to you, while I work myself to the bone. I was already overworked, and since your arrival, I wait on you hand and foot, along with all my other chores. I’m always tired. Do you know what that’s like, always being tired and never, ever having time for yourself? Not even to sleep?”
Kenana thought of her own job, the job she was now forced to perform daily as her husband’s wife and lover. Indeed, she would have gladly switched roles with her servant. “We all do what we must, Sarah. Some jobs are less pleasant than others. Now please leave me alone. You are drunk.”
Sarah stared coldly at her, swaying slightly from the drink, then abruptly grabbed her things, bowed stiffly, and left.
Kenana finished the wine alone, drinking until she passed out at the foot of her bed.
Chapter Eleven
The next day, feeling alone and empty, she made her way out to the central garden. It was mid-day and she was still suffering from the effects of last night’s drinking: a throbbing headache and nausea. She walked through the garden to where the grapes grew along the terraced landscape. A stone carefully marked each terrace. She wondered if the placement of the stones was the work of Asher. He seemed the type: precise, immaculate and calculating.
She noticed that the children of the servants had arrived and were weeding the vegetables. As children of servants, boys were expected to work outdoors as soon as they were old enough. At the moment, they were picking squash, cucumbers and garlic. After a long moment of contemplation, she stooped over and plucked several of her own squash for the evening meal. Some small boys giggled and looked away, quickly admonished by their hardworking fathers. Kenana smiled and nodded, but the fathers looked away as well.
She found Lo Lo, a young cook, hard at work in the kitchen. “Lo Lo, please wash these and cook them for my supper.” The thought of food still made her queasy, but she hadn’t eaten all day. The thought of squash was as enticing as it was revolting. What was wrong with her?
“Yes, madam. You shall have squash for your dinner.”
Head pounding, Kenana returned to her room and slept. Later, her door opened and the young cook entered with a succulent dish of steaming orange-colored squash. The food was placed on a round serving table in one corner of the room. As Kenana ate slowly, willing her stomach to cooperate, Lo Lo watched her silently from the shadows.
Something was wrong. Lo Lo was looking at her with fear and perhaps a little bit of something. Anger perhaps? Did this have anything to do with Kenana throwing Sarah out last night? Had her servant told the others of their conversation?
Kenana thought about it, and realized that of course servants talked among themselves. They had no family of their own. The serving community within Jubal’s massive household was, indeed, a family unto itself. And families always gossiped amongst themselves, Kenana knew that
firsthand from her own large family. Still, did not these servants see that she was just as abused as they, no matter how privileged her current station in life?
“You will quit staring at me as if I am the devil come to steal your soul. You may leave my presence,” said Kenana.
Lo Lo jumped and nodded immediately. “Yes, madam.”
“And take this with you.” She shoved the bowl across the wooden table.
She was alone again. The squash rumbled uneasily in her stomach. Once again she wanted to run away. The desire to run was a natural one, but not practical. Like Sarah, Jubal would simply send men after her and force her to return. And she would be beaten as well. She was not above fearing a beating.
Despite her nauseous stomach, Kenana was still hungry. As she descended the stairs back to the kitchen, she heard voices coming through a stone archway. Her name was mentioned. She stopped in mid-step and listened.
The voice belonged to Asher. “Give her time. This is still new to her.”
“It doesn’t give her the right to treat us like chattel.” The voice belonged to Debra, Jubal’s personal servant, and one of Kenana’s least favorite people on the staff.
“Actually, she is the princess. It gives her every right.” Asher sounded amused.
Well, Kenana was right about one thing: the servants did indeed gossip amongst themselves!
“But Sarah cried all night,” protested Debra.
“Sarah was drunk. Besides, Sarah must not be so sensitive. Princess Kenana is not a bad person. She is new to this, and needs some adjusting. She needs all of our help.”
“Well, I don’t trust her,” said Debra. “Did you see the handsome gentleman friend she danced with on the night of her wedding?”
Asher paused. “Yes.”
“It is my guess,” Debra continued relentlessly, “that the youthful bride was already involved in an affair with the exotic stranger before she got here.”
Asher responded sharply, “I have reason to believe that Madam Kenana is a devoted wife. Do not spread false rumors.”
“I think she has already bedded the stranger right here under her husband’s nose.”
“That is enough, Debra.”
“Why do you defend her so? Don’t tell me you have a crush on her, as well.”
“You sound like a jealous fool. As head servant, I could have you beaten for speaking such falsehoods about your mistress.”
“And I do not deny that you could have me beaten for speaking my mind. Yes, Asher, everything here could have been mine if she had not come.”
Ah, thought Kenana. She is jealous. Does she not realize I would happily trade places with her?
Kenana stepped around the corner. “My dancing partner on the night of my wedding is not only none of your business, but he is not in competition for my hand. I plan to be faithful to my husband. And have been. He is the only man who has ever known me,” she said truthfully.
Asher’s mouth dropped open upon seeing Kenana. Debra let out a startled gasp. Kenana grinned inwardly. Asher recovered first, bowing. “Madam.” Then he turned to Debra. “The guest bedchambers need turning down.”
“Yes, of course.” Debra turned to Kenana, bowing. “Madam.” She left the kitchen.
Kenana looked briefly at Asher. There was a sense of mild alarm in his eyes, and amusement. He tilted his head in her direction, eyes sparkling. “I have work to do, madam.”
“Of course.”
Kenana was left standing alone in the kitchen. She wanted to find Malluch and let Debra have Jubal. Maybe Malluch would know how to help her escape. Maybe they could escape together.
She found herself gazing off to where Asher had departed through the archway. The head servant was, a perfect gentleman who stood for her honor. Her stomach rumbled. Although still queasy, she shouldn’t deny her hunger. She found a fresh loaf of mutton bread and a jar of olives and went off to the garden.
*
Later in the evening, Kenana was on the balcony, watching the sunset and alone with her thoughts, when she heard someone enter her room. Asher appeared by her side, his face somber.
“We should talk, Kenana,” he said.
Kenana met his steel-gray eyes. “About what?”
“Sarah. You must make amends with her.”
“She owes me an apology. She was out of line.”
“I have arranged for her to apologize. Will you accept her apology?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Good. Another thing: forget the angel. He’s not good for you.”
“How do you—”
“How do I know he’s an angel?” Asher grinned slyly. “We all have our secrets.”
“Well, Malluch is not just my angel, he’s my friend.”
“Friend or not, it is unbecoming for the Princess of Adah to be seen with another man. Even if that man happens to be an angel.”
“Asher, is it wrong to want true love?”
He cleared his throat and looked away. “Your husband is the only one who can…satisfy you.”
“I am confused.”
“You are young. You will grow into your role here. You will see that life with Prince Jubal is not so bad.”
Kenana forced a smile through the tears. “You’re kind, Asher, no matter what they say.”
His eyes narrowed. “Who says I’m not kind?”
She ribbed him with her elbow, and giggled.
“Ah,” he said. “You are teasing me.”
“Yes.”
His gray eyes sparkled with amusement, but then grew serious again. “There is something wrong with your angel,” he said, simply.
“What do you mean?”
“I fear he is of the Fallen. If so, you will need a Goel to protect you.”
“A Goel?”
“A protector, one who has sworn his life to the protection of another.”
“I can take care of myself. Malluch won’t harm me. He just makes me feel good when he’s near, and I need that.”
Asher looked away, frowning. Then he turned back and held out his hand. “Your husband wants you to join him for dinner. I shall escort you to him.”
*
The Prince of Adah was already sitting at the head of the long table. He waved his arms, ushering her forward. “Come in. Come in, Keni, dear. I have a gift for you.”
Kenana smoothed her tunic and sat down beside him. “A gift?”
“Just a little something I had Asher pick up for you in town,” he said, placing a necklace about her neck. She caught Asher’s eye and he smiled knowingly. Jubal continued, “I want you and your servant girl to be friends. This is a little bribe for you to make it so.” At least he wasn’t punishing her for her spat with Sarah.
“Thank you.” She kissed her husband’s cheek and looked around. “Where is Sarah?”
Sarah slipped into the room. “I am here, madam,” she said, looking down.
“Sarah was out of line,” said Jubal. “She is just a servant girl, while you are my princess. She will now apologize.”
“I am so sorry, Princess Kenana,” said Sarah. She had yet to look up.
“Me, too.” Kenana opened her arms. “You must come back to me.”
Sarah looked up for the first time, smiling, and then threw herself into Kenana’s arms. They embraced, then began chattering and laughing as if nothing had ever come between them. Then Kenana sat and ate, while Sarah served her, winking.
After dinner, still seated around the long dining table, Jubal played a narrow windpipe, while Asher strummed a lyre. Kenana and Sarah danced around the table together, laughing, twirling each other. Kenana caught Asher’s eye. He smiled at her.
“Asher, sing for my wife,” said Jubal.
“Please do.” Kenana leaned back and clapped. This was the happiest she had felt in a long time. Maybe she could find happiness with Jubal, after all.
Strumming the lyre, Asher began to sing. He sang a slow Mesopotamian love song that Kenana remembered from childhood. One about fl
ying through the starry skies in the arms of a lover. She closed her eyes and listened and dreamed. Asher’s voice was rich and full of emotion, and it made Kenana’s heart ache.
Chapter Twelve
“Has the Master been neglecting to call you to his bedchamber lately?” said Sarah, tucking Kenana into bed. The day had been sweltering, but now a cool breeze swept through the open balcony window. Kenana had discovered there wasn’t much to do as a princess. Mostly, she was waited on hand and foot, occasionally appearing with Jubal at courtly functions.
“He’s been very neglectful, and I couldn’t be happier,” Kenana said, grinning.
Sarah squeezed her shoulder, giggling. “So, why have you been looking so sad lately?”
Kenana shrugged. “The heart wants what the heart wants.”
“And your heart longs for a younger man, doesn’t it?”
She sighed. “Can you keep a secret, Sarah?”
“You can tell me anything.” The servant picked up a jeweled comb and began working it through Kenana’s long hair. “You know that!”
Kenana remembered all the gossip among the servants, but let it drop. “There is someone I keep thinking of,” she said.
“Someone that I know?”
“No, but you’ve seen him.”
Sarah narrowed her eyes. “You are talking about the man you danced with on your wedding night, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” Kenana grinned slyly. “There’s a problem though.”
“You’ve been intimate with him, haven’t you?”
“No!” Kenana said.
“Then what’s the problem?”
Kenana hesitated. “Well, he’s an angel.”
Sarah stopped combing. “Why do you think he’s an angel?”
“He has the ability to appear or disappear at will.” Kenana said, suddenly feeling foolish talking about this, wondering if Sara would believe her. “He sometimes comes in the form of a whirlwind. Please tell me you believe me!”
