TWO: Child of Misfortune pt 2

Together, Uncle and Niece walked back toward their home.

Esther swallowed the rest of her curiosity concerning the King and deposed Queen, and instead spoke to Mordecai about the other sights she'd seen at the market that day.

Mordecai listened attentively, smiling at his niece's childlike wonder over things others in the city would consider ordinary.

It reminded him of the same wonder that filled her eyes when he first brought her to the city twelve years ago. Even while surrounded by the loud and dirty crowds of Shushan, Esther still possessed the same innocence as her four-year-old self.

And that made her shine more brightly than the sun.

But the draw of the unknown called more strongly to her each passing day. She used to visit the marketplace only once a week, keeping her head low and focusing on her errands.

Lately, however, she'd begun to frequent the market more often, pausing to listen to street criers and look at the dazzling wares of traveling merchants. And the more time she spent there, the more people began to take notice of the beautiful, shining girl.

So long as she dwelt in this city, Mordecai couldn't keep her safe from the outside world forever.

He sighed, gazing at Esther's sparkling eyes while she chattered. Today, he'd received a reply to a letter he'd sent nearly a month ago.

It was time to tell her.

Later that evening, as the girl ladeled hot stew into two wooden bowls set on the table, he pulled the letter out from his pouch.

"Esther," he addressed her, "there is something I must speak with you about."

"What is it, Uncle?" the girl's smile faded at her Uncle's solemn tone.

She quickly placed the pot down and took her seat across from the man.

"As you know," Mordecai began, "our people are not looked upon favorably here in Shushan, or in any city of the Empire for that matter."

"Yes, I know, Uncle," Esther replied. "We follow Abraham's God and believe that even the King is not greater than our God."

"That's right. The people of this Empire, especially those in this city, think nothing of a higher power," Mordecai nodded. "They worship the King and his counselors while casting aside their ancestors and family traditions."

"But I already know all of this, Uncle," Esther tilted her head. "Has something happened?"

Mordecai paused, gazing fondly at his niece across the table.

Again, he was reminded that she was no longer the little girl he'd taken in. Her hair had grown long and healthy, her body tall and strong, and her face pure and fair.

It was a shame that such a beautiful young lady was dressed so plainly.

She had no ornaments adorning her smooth hair or glittering jewels around her neck. Instead, she wore a gray dress made from crude wool and simple shoes.

If she were another girl in Shushan City, born to a different clan, she might have been dressed in linen and silk with many precious ornaments. She'd spend her days giggling with friends and watching performances.

Certainly, she'd never be sitting at a humble wooden table in a poorly lit clay house, working all day to cook and clean.

"This is the clan you were born to, Esther," Mordecai remarked thoughtfully, "but I've never once asked you if this is the life you want for yourself."

"What do you mean, Uncle?" Esther chided, shaking her head. "How could I want anything more than my family and home?"

"You could have many friends, Esther, and pretty things. You could be the most famous woman in all of Persia for your beautiful smile alone," Mordecai insisted. "I must ask if this is truly what you want. A dim place like this where flowers wilt?"

Esther sighed and rose from the table. She walked to Mordecai and knelt at his side, resting her hand on his.

"But Uncle, I am not a flower," she whispered, her voice warm and bright. "This is my home, and this is where I want to be."

Fidgeting uncomfortably with the letter he'd laid on the table, Mordecai turned to look at Esther.

"How could an old man like me deserve such a kind hearted daughter?"

Tears began to well in both of their eyes at his words.

Over their many years together, Mordecai had refrained from referring to Esther as his daughter. Though their relationship was no less than that of a father and child, he couldn't bear to take such a title away from his late brother, Esther's birth father.

But in that moment, he could not hold back.

"I hope you can be generous with this selfish father of yours just one last time," Mordecai choked, sliding the letter toward the girl kneeling tearfully beside him.

Her expression turning to confusion, Esther swiped at her damp cheeks before gingerly plucking the parchment off the table.

Stepping a bit closer to the candlelight, her eyebrows knit together as she scanned the letter's contents.

"They.. they want me to stay with them?" Esther questioned, glancing back up at Mordecai. "But, Uncle, this is-"

"That letter is from your mother's family, out in the countryside."

Esther's face fell as realization dawned on her.

"You're sending me away?" she whispered. "F-for how long?"

"Esther, my girl!" Mordecai jumped from his chair, and wrapped the shaking girl in a tight embrace.

"There is nothing for you here," he declared, gripping her shoulders. "If you truly wish to remain a Believer and part of this despised clan, you must go somewhere where you can find your own happiness, Esther!"

"... Am I not happy?"

Esther's voice was solemn, her eyes glossy.

"In all sixteen years of my life, have I not been happy?"

In the flickering orange light, Mordecai could see that her eyes were no longer wet. She faced him not as a child, scared of being thrown away, but as a young adult, in control of her emotions.

But that thought only strengthened his resolve.

He remembered the promise he made to himself at his brother's grave twelve years ago.

The promise that he would never allow Esther to experience unhappiness again.

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