The purification ritual Samara was supposed to perform was six months long. The mourning period was traditionally a year long, but no one expected her to complete it. The main question remained. Was she with child?

Months passed, and the rebels were still in command of the city. There was talk of one of the old king’s sons coming to reclaim the throne, but wherever the king’s sons were, they did not seem prepared to take the throne by force.

The common people didn’t care much which rulers governed.

Their new king had one wife, but there was talk of him waking up the harem as a resort for women. Just a place for the rebel soldiers’ wives and daughters to sing and dance. There was no reason why the new king hadn’t done it, except that he was only thinking about it.

Leonidas wasn’t thinking about anything.

Samara was not pregnant.

Ciphas had proposed to her anyway.

Leonidas refused to think about anything. He gave no comment.

Samara had not given his brother an answer. She said she would wait until her ritual was complete, and then she would make her choice.

When Leonidas asked her her preference, she shrugged her shoulders and said she still wasn’t completely positive about which role God would have her perform.

For now, she was pleased with her role as a maidservant. She washed his feet every evening in the golden light of the setting sun. Leonidas considered it an ordeal, not because of the results of her work, but because of how it made him feel every day. Tendrils of her hair escaped her scarf and appeared like twin flames on either side of her face as the descending sun seemed to set them on fire. Her touch was unpleasant because it was too pleasant. He mistrusted someone who wanted to pleasure him, or rather, who knew how to pleasure him. The talk of her being a prophetess made him uncomfortable.

A woman could not be a sensual delight and a holy vessel at the same time.

That was what he stuttered in his mind when her dress gaped at the neck, and too much of her chest became visible to him.

His face was hot from the sun, hot from the sight of her, and hot because he was terrible at cooling himself.

One night, she handed him a fan.

He took it and wafted air in his face, but he did not cool down. He reminded himself he was hot and tired from having minded his father’s flocks all day. That was why he was overheating.

“What’s bothering you?” she ventured to ask as she cracked his toes.

He hesitated. He wasn’t a man if he couldn’t speak. He cleared his throat. “I was thinking about how many days are left before your ritual is complete. It can’t be many more.”

“I finished yesterday. I’m celebrating today with this orange belt. Didn’t you notice?”

He had not. He tried not to notice her.

“We should talk,” he said.

When Leonidas said those words, the courtyard emptied. Every man, woman, child, manservant, and maidservant left in a less-than-subtle mass departure. Even Ciphas left.

Leonidas removed his foot from Samara’s grasp and pushed himself forward on his seat. Leaning toward her, he tried to speak quietly. “Have you had any further thoughts about what future you would like to have?”

She dried her hands on her apron. “I have not.”

“Why not? I know Ciphas has proposed to you.”

“He is not the only one who has,” she commented with a few clicks of her tongue.

Leonidas’s eyes widened. Of course, she had had multiple offers. That was what always happened when a marriage was sought for him. As soon as someone was chosen for him, everyone wanted her.

“I’m waiting to hear what you have to say,” she said, still kneeling gravely on the stones.

“Why?”

“Because I offered myself to you. You saved me from the tiger pit.  Make no mistake, I was not safe there.  Yes, I had tamed the tiger, but if left unattended for too long, the tiger and I would have both died. It was not an accident that you found me instead of your brother. If God hadn’t wanted us to meet, you would not have been the one to save me. After all, who would come looking for me? I’m an unknown person here. I have no family to watch over me to make sure I’m not ripped limb from sinew when the kingdom falls to ruin. God was watching you, and he was watching me. He brought us together, and my heart beats rough when I look at you, like meeting you was the most important thing that has ever happened to me. I see a possible future with you and me together as two parts of the same everlasting whole.” She took a deep breath, her breast heaving with the fiery spirit of her words. When she exhaled, peace returned to her. “But I have no interest in forcing you. You must see it the way I see it. If you wish to marry me, or have me continue as your maid, or roll me into one as a concubine, I am your servant. If you wish me away, I will comply,” she offered like she did not believe for one instance that he would choose that path.

Leonidas was choking on his own tongue, but he felt that he had to say what he thought and show himself to be the complete opposite of what she imagined. “I don’t think I can marry you.”

“The light in your eyes does not brighten when you look at me,” she observed. “I see that. If anything, your gaze becomes darker. What are you thinking when you look at me?” she asked curiously, condemnation entirely withheld by her tone.

He clicked two fingers together, and she obediently brought her ear closer. When she was close enough that he could not see her face, he whispered, “I think you look like the King’s whore.”

She turned her head to look at him. Her expression was neither angry nor hurt. “Still?” she said like she was in on the secret with him.

He nodded, wishing he had not said it, wishing he had not felt like he had to admit it. “If I cannot marry you, will you marry Ciphas?”

“Would that make me less of a slut, if I married your brother who cannot give me a child?” she asked, her face never losing a degree of composure, or showing an ounce of anger.

Leonidas looked away from her and tried to picture that scenario in his mind. Framed that way, he could only see distrust. “I’m not sure if I could believe you were faithful to him.”

“Then I cannot marry him,” she said, raising herself to her feet. “Would you like one more day to think, or would you like me to understand that you are casting me off?”

Ashamed that he had told her his feelings, which were utterly groundless, he did not answer her immediately. She had not done a single thing to show that she was not a virtuous woman during the time she had lived with his family. If anything, she had proven herself to be wholesome and righteous.  She just did not look wholesome to Leonidas.  She looked dangerous like she could slide her tongue across his skin as easily as stick a dagger into him. His instinct was that he was not safe with her. If he took her into his arms, he was about as safe as if he pulled that tiger in for a warm embrace—teeth, claws, and weight. Either way, he would end up dead.

“I’m afraid—”

“I can see that,” she said shortly.

He had been about to say, ‘I’m afraid my feelings will not change,’ when she cut him off. Slashing the sentence to ‘I’m afraid’ irked Leonidas. Perhaps not enough to haul her off to his father, who had the authority to perform their marriage at a moment’s notice, but enough to say, “If it pleases you, I can think about it for another day.”

“I will await your answer,” she said pleasantly, as she picked up the basin of water and left the courtyard at a brisk stride.

Leonidas could not understand her optimism. He couldn’t understand the look on her face when he uttered that terrible word to describe what he felt about her. In truth, he had never felt so stupid in his life.