SEVEN: Queen Candidate pt 1

"Esteemed Uncle, has something happened?"

Mordecai stood silently, the travel papers in his hand making soft crinkling noises as his fingers curled even further into his palm.

Esther froze too, watching her uncle as he watched the floor, his nostrils flaring with each shuddering breath. Had something gone wrong with her travel plans? Had her mother's clan changed their mind about her visit?

Suddenly, Mordecai whirled around and hurled the papers into the oven, which was still blazing with the fire Esther had used to bake the bread for their dinner.

"Uncle!!" Esther gasped, leaping forward to retrieve the papers.

Mordecai caught her before she reached the oven and restrained her arm.

"You'll get burned."

His tone was eerily calm compared to his panicked expression.

"Leave them there."

Esther gave a dejected look at the burning documents and hesitantly turned back to her uncle.

"I-I don't understand."

"... Esther-"

Mordecai let out a sight and bit his lip before pushing past his niece.

He ignored the steaming stew set neatly on the table and reached for a bottle of wine.

While he poured and drank three cupfuls of the red liquid, Esther remained in the same place, her eyes glued to the flames rapidly devouring the remnants of the only exciting thing that had ever happened to her.

The longer she watched, the more she became aware of an uncomfortable knot in her throat and the trembling of her lower lip.

No. She couldn't cry now.

She didn't know what was going on, but the best case scenario was that Mordecai had discovered the paperwork was flawed, and the worst case was that she wouldn't go to the countryside at all.

In either case, she had no right to be disappointed.

She belonged here with her uncle. She knew that. In the first place, she'd been the one to fight against the idea of going away.

Swallowing her tears, Esther forced her lips upward into a smile and took her seat across the table from Mordecai.

In silence, she took small bites of her soup while Mordecai stirred his aimlessly, having finally lost interest in the wine.

"Esther, do you remember what happened to Queen Vashti?" he finally spoke, clenching his spoon until his hand shook.

"She was deposed for mocking the King," Esther treaded carefully, looking for hints in her uncle's expression.

Mordecai nodded slowly.

"Since then, Persia has been without a queen."

".. I see," Esther replied.

Her mind raced wildly trying to discover the connection between the Queen's empty throne and Mordecai's behavior.

The explanations she came up with ranged from city gates being closed in respect of the King's anguish, to clans that supported Queen Vashti turning violent, thus making travel unsafe.

The real explanation ended up being something she never would have considered, even in her wildest dreams. In fact, in all of Persia, it was something that had never before occurred.

"The King has decreed that a young woman from each clan in Shushan be presented before him," Mordecai explained bitterly. "He will choose a new Queen from among them."

"Urk!"

Esther choked on the bite of stew she'd just taken.

As she dabbed at her lips with a handkerchief, she began to feel light-headed.

"From each clan.." she murmured. "Then.."

"There is only one such young woman among the Despised Clan," Mordecai finished her scattered thoughts.

"Esther, you must go to the palace as a candidate for Persia's Queen."

"T-That can't be." The blood was draining too quickly from Esther's face.

The edges of her vision blurred, and the ground under her began to sway.

Queen Candidate? Her?

No, that couldn't be right.

She was a girl who had never properly seen the outside world.

Who dressed plainly and cooked stew every single day.

Who had never spoken to another person her age before, much less competed against them for the throne.

A chill crept down her spine, her thoughts growing fuzzy.

This couldn't be right.

She must have heard wrong.

This couldn't be-

"Get a hold of yourself!"

Mordecai's stern voice and tight grip on her shoulder jolted Esther out of her daze.

"I know how much of a shock this must be to you," he hissed, "but you must be strong Esther."

"I.. can't.." Esther whimpered, her breaths coming out in short bursts. "I can't d-"

"You have to," Mordecai demanded. "There is no other choice."

With her uncle's coaching, Esther managed to regain her grip on her emotions. Her breathing smoothed, and the dizziness clouding her mind began to clear.

"This kind of weakness," her uncle warned as she came back to reality, "would destroy you out there."

Esther gulped and nodded.

"I won't lose control of my composure again, Esteemed Uncle," she hung her head.

In all twelve years living in Shushan, Esther had never seen this side of her uncle. Since the time she'd bid him farewell that morning, he'd somehow become cold and strict.

The large, chapped hands that used to reach out to her with love now dug painfully into her shoulders while the man scolded her. Almost as if her uncle had been replaced by an entirely different person.

After Esther had calmed down, Mordecai didn't even wait for her to finish eating before getting to work.

From the satchel he'd abandoned by the door when he first arrived home, he produced multiple scrolls, a quill, and a small bottle of ink.

Esther barely had the time to move the bowls of soup before the man dropped all the items on the table.

"Sit," he commanded, the shadows of his face stretching in the dim candlelight.

The sun had dipped completely below the horizon now. Usually at this time, the uncle and niece would be finishing a few chores before turning in for the night.

There wasn't time for luxuries such as sleep anymore, though. With sixteen years of neglected education, every minute had become too valuable to waste.

"From this moment on," Mordecai said ominously, pushing one of the scrolls across the table toward Esther, "you must forget everything you know and everything you are."

Esther opened her mouth to protest, but the man held up a hand to stop her.

"It is the only way to survive."