Chapter 2 | The Taste of Sin

The sensation of my chest constricting causes my breath to hitch. My heart sinks with the gnawing realization that something bad is about to happen. My head swirls. I suddenly feel dizzy.

Why does the king want to see me?

I take a clumsy step backward and immediately realize my mistake.

The black eyes of the guard, whose bulky shoulders stretch from both sides of the door frame, send a chill through me. His thick palm slams against the wooden door as he pushes into the house.

"What does the King want with me?"

I am met with silence. My family has a long history serving the King. My grandfather is his most trusted royal advisor. I grew up in the palace courtyard playing with King David's children. Many days I have spent within the palace walls my grandfather, father, or husband by my side. But I have never gone to the palace unaccompanied nor have I ever been personally summoned by the King himself.

I look past his bulging shoulders and pleadingly into a softer pair of eyes behind him. The eyes of the guard standing outside widen as he looks at me with sympathy.

The scuffle of timid feet steals the deathly stare of Judas away from my face and to the stairs behind me. I peer over my shoulder and see my maidservants. Their faces are rigid with fear and uncertainty. I tighten my lips as I try to force a convincing smile. I don't want them to be alarmed. They are under my care and protection--I will not have them involved in this.

"Judas," The soldier with the softer demeanor calls from the doorway. His voice seems to coax Judas from glaring at my servants. I am filled with relief, but I do not show it. He gradually makes his way back toward me and seems to forget all about my frightened ladies. The air stings my nostrils as I breathe in a stiff breath. Judas coils his hand around my arm. The pressure provokes a groan of pain from my lips.

I struggle in vain to wrench my arm from his repulsive hold on me, but he only turns his attention to the soldier blocking the doorway and begins to yank me forward with each lengthy step he takes. The wind nips at my skin as I stumble into the night glazed streets.

~*~*~*~

The path from my home to the palace is a short one. I know the way very well and can navigate it better than even the guards in the dark. The air surrounding me is quiet. The moon is a sliver of a crescent, barely providing any reprieve from the heavy thickness of night. I walk up the ascending palace steps, which wind across the entire width of the palace entrance, a guard at each side. When we enter the grand foyer of the palace they hand me off to servants, who were ready waiting for my arrival. The servants do not speak a word to me, instead, leading me silently through the corridor, up to several stairs and hallways. With every step, I take I cannot discard the flood of questions racing through my mind.

Why does the king want to see me?

Is it about Uriah? Has he been injured? Or worse... is he dead?!

I find myself suddenly standing alone in a rather expansive room. Curtains the color of ripe pomegranates drape from the ceiling and droop in a circular motion around the borders of the walls. A rather large and luscious bed stares mockingly at me. As if it knows something I don't. Something glistens among all the gold objects strewn across the smooth floor. I take a hesitant step forward and squint my eyes to better make out what it is. I realize it is a harp of solid gold.

Everything comes together in an instant. The gold, the harp, the bed, and the extravagance are clues to where I am. This is the King's private chambers.

"Bathsheba," A warm voice grumbles lowly.

I turn around. As I take in the chiseled features of my King I notice his red, wavy hair has grown longer since the last time I saw him. His pink lips spread in a kind smile, but my stomach churns inside of me. I sink to my knees and lower my cloth covered head. My eyes drift to the floor but are jerked upward when he brushes a finger against the bottom of my chin.

He forces me to meet his brilliant eyes. I gulp down the uncertainty forming in my throat. His comforting touch is only adding to my fears that something terrible has happened to my husband.

"Your Highness?"

"You are so beautiful," He whispers into the air between us.

I cough, clearing my throat, but inwardly urging him to back away. His eyes level with mine with such an intensity that I cannot look away. He does not understand my signal of discomfort, and it is either that or he does not care. He tilts his chin and begins to lower his head closer to mine. My lips are clearly reflected in the pupils of his eyes.

I press my palm into the silky material enveloping his whole being. Instead of being dissuaded he clasps his hands around mine and continues to edge his lips closer to mine.

"Uriah-" I spew gracelessly.

He leans back and narrows his eyes on me. His face is filled with confusion.

"What about him?"

His fingers slide across the top of my hand as he loosens his grip. A shaky breath enters my lungs as he takes a step away from me. I want nothing more but to escape his burning gaze.

"I thought... that is why you called me here, right? Do you have news of my husband?"

He shakes his head,

"You are an astonishing woman, Bathsheba. You have made me -a king- desire to live the life of an ordinary man."

"It is not right to envy," I say, hoping that my voice doesn't break.

"Then God has surely done me a great injustice. Why would he make such an incredible woman only to frustrate and fill me with rage?! What am I to do then? Live with this nagging desire or quench it and return to my senses?"

My skin tingles at the faint touch of his fingertips brushing the skin of my neck. I stifle a shudder. 

"It is sin," I say, my voice quivering.

King David moves in even closer, his lips almost upon mine. His eyes darken as he stands in front of me again. He leans in towards me, his hot breath skimming the tip of my nose.

"Surely, I am God's anointed, I am a man after his own heart. I would not do this thing if I knew it would be counted as sin. I have watched you grow up before my very eyes, Bathsheba. And yet I don't think I ever truly saw you until today," He says before his lips consume mine