Chapter 3 | Discarded Lillies

The tears that threaten to spill from my eye line sting excruciatingly. He sighs in satisfaction in my ear then gradually slides off of me. My muscles stiffen as I bite back a shudder of repulsion. I clench the velvety covers beside me and conceal myself quickly. When I look through the slivers breaking apart the strands of my tussled hair, I see the king's chest rising and falling in an easy rhythm. He seems at peace.

His lust has been quenched and his sanity has returned to him, but this is not the case for me. I have only ever been intimate with one man in my entire life. Uriah was my first and only love. Something inside my chest wrenches within me as I think about him. If he knew what has occurred while he is afar off fighting in his King's name he would be shattered.

My throat swells as the guilt begins to rise. I strip it away as soon as the condemning thoughts play their tune.

This was not my fault.

Despite saying these words to myself I cannot bring myself to believe them.

"You can leave now," He whispers calmly, as if his words aren't shredding my heart to pieces. I slide off the bed silently and search the floor for my dress that he ravished only moments ago. Once the fabric drapes across my bare skin I hear the chamber doors creak open. A guard enters the room and approaches me. I recognize the sad eyes and sympathy lines of the face looking down on me.

It is the kinder of the two guards that brought me here.

"Take her back to her home," The King commands coldly.

The guard clasps my arm, but his grip isn't as hard as it looks. I fight the temptation to look behind my shoulder and steal one last glance of the man who ruined me. He may be a ruler, but he is also a thief. Once I pass through the imposing doors of his private chambers I meet a daunting pair of glaring eyes that burn into my skin.

A slender woman dressed in bright robes stands outside of the entrance to the King's chambers. Her sharp jawline is clenched tightly. Her black eyes follow my every movement. The intensity of her stare sends a wave of discomfort through me. I tear my eyes away from her as the guard nudges me around the corner.

"Who was she," I ask him in hushed tones.

"That is Michal. The King's first wife."

My mouth opens wide. Saul's daughter, Michal, was given to David in marriage when he defeated the Philistines many years ago. I have heard so many rumors of their strained relationship. Whispers often fill the streets of Michal's embittered spirit. Perhaps I am not the only woman David has dishonored.

As soon as I enter the threshold of my home I shut the rickety door shut behind me and lean against its feeble structure. I do not say a word of peace to the guard who had to hold me up with the strength of his arms so I could make the short journey home.

Urgent footsteps shake the foundations of the floor as my maidservants rush to me. Their arms cling to me and I instinctively sink into their warmth. With each one holding me up by both of my arms I let them carry me to my bed.

The sniffles they try so hard to mask coax me to release the tears I bit down while the King had his way with me. I let them trickle freely down my cheeks. I taste the salty liquid that seeps between my lips.

The sturdy walls that Uriah worked tirelessly to erect have lost their comforting presence. The warm blankets my maidservants wrap around me do not keep away the chill growing inside of me.

I crave Uriah's arms. I wish they could swaddle me like they have countless times when I've awoken from a nightmare. I miss his tender kisses. If only he were here to smooth away the pain tainting my swollen lips.

My mind swarms with the memories I wish I could discard as easily as the king discarded me.