Twelve months. That’s how long it took for a simple girl like me to be transformed into what the king might deem worthy. Twelve months of daily rituals, countless oils and perfumes, and lessons in grace, etiquette, and charm. It was exhausting, not just for the body but for the soul. Each day in the harem felt like another step away from the girl I once was. Yet, I knew there was no turning back.
We could ask for anything that would make us appease the king, and it would be made available. I focused on the bare minimum, with what was absolutely essential as recommended by Hegai.
Hegai continued to show me favor. “Esther,” he said one morning as I sat quietly while the servants worked fragrant oils into my hair, “you carry yourself differently than the others. You don’t clamor for attention or push yourself forward. The king will notice that.”
I looked at him, unsure of how to respond. His words weren’t exactly comforting. I didn’t want to be noticed. I wanted to be forgotten, left to live a quiet life far from the grandiose halls of the palace. But Hegai’s gaze softened, and I realized he wasn’t just advising me—he was rooting for me in his own way.
The days passed quickly now, each one a flurry of preparations. The air in the harem grew tense as the women whispered among themselves, some confident they would be chosen, others anxious about their chances. I tried to block out their words, focusing instead on the rhythm of my own breath, the steady rise and fall that kept me anchored. But at night, lying in my bed, doubts crept in. What if I wasn’t enough? What if I was too much?
One evening, after the palace had grown quiet, I knelt by the small window in my quarters. The stars shone bright against the dark sky, and for the first time in weeks, I felt a sliver of peace. I closed my eyes and whispered, “Lord, I don’t know why You’ve brought me here, but I trust You. If it’s Your will, let me find favor. If it’s not, give me the courage to face what’s ahead.”
The Day Arrives
And then came the day of the king’s banquet. My turn had not yet come, but I heard the whispers. One by one, the girls were summoned to the king’s chambers in the evening, and returned in the morning to the house of the concubines.
Some returned with smiles, others with tears. No one spoke of what happened behind those gilded doors. I dreaded my turn, not for fear of rejection, but for fear of what acceptance would mean.
In those quiet moments before sleep, I often thought of Mordecai’s words. “Remember who you are.” But who was I now? Esther, the orphaned Jewish girl, or Hadassah, a child of the Most High? Could I be both? Or would I lose one to preserve the other?
The following morning, Hegai summoned me personally. “It’s time,” he said, his expression unreadable. I rose to my feet, smoothing the fabric of my gown, and followed him through the long, winding corridors of the palace. My heart pounded with each step, the sound almost deafening in my ears. I barely noticed the grand tapestries or the glittering chandeliers as we passed.
When we reached the dressing chamber, a team of attendants was waiting. They worked quickly and skillfully, draping me in a gown of deep sapphire that shimmered with every movement. My hair was swept up, adorned with delicate jewels, and my skin was dusted with the faintest hint of gold powder. When they were finished, I barely recognized the woman staring back at me in the mirror.
“You look…” Hegai began, then paused, as if searching for the right word. “You look like a queen.”
I swallowed hard, unable to find my voice. The weight of his words settled over me like a cloak. A queen. Was that what I was meant to become?
The walk to the king’s chamber felt both endless and far too short. As we reached the grand doors, Hegai stopped and placed a hand on my shoulder. “Remember, Esther, just be yourself. That is what will set you apart.”
The King’s Chamber
The doors opened, and I stepped inside. The room was vast, its high ceilings adorned with intricate carvings and its floors polished to a mirror-like sheen. At the far end of the chamber sat King Xerxes, his figure imposing and regal. He wore a robe of deep crimson, embroidered with gold, and his crown gleamed under the light of the chandeliers.
I approached slowly, my heart racing. Each step echoed in the silent room. When I reached the center, I stopped and bowed low, keeping my eyes fixed on the floor.
“Rise,” the king’s voice commanded, deep and resonant. I obeyed, lifting my gaze to meet his. His eyes studied me, piercing yet curious, and for a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath.
There were other women before me, I knew. Women who had been presented to him, each one prepared and polished just as I was. Yet as the silence stretched, I couldn’t help but feel that this moment was different. His gaze lingered, not just on my appearance but on something deeper, something I couldn’t quite explain.
“What is your name?” he asked finally, his tone softer now.
“Esther, my lord,” I replied, my voice steady despite the storm raging in my chest.
He nodded slowly, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You are… unique,” he said, almost to himself. “There is a grace about you.”
The words settled over me, and for the first time, I felt a glimmer of confidence. I didn’t know what the future held, but in that moment, standing before the king, I felt the stirrings of something greater than myself—a purpose I couldn’t yet see.
The Queen is Chosen
The days that followed were a whirlwind. The announcement was made: King Xerxes had chosen me to be his queen. The palace erupted in celebration, with feasts, music, and dances that stretched late into the night. Servants congratulated me, their smiles genuine, while the other women’s reactions ranged from quiet resignation to barely concealed bitterness.
And yet, as I stood at the center of the festivities, adorned in royal robes and a crown that felt far too heavy, I couldn’t shake the feeling of uncertainty. My heart was heavy with questions. Why me? What was I meant to do here?
Later that night, after the celebrations had ended and the palace had grown quiet, I found myself once again at the small window in my quarters. The stars winked down at me, as if they held secrets I wasn’t yet ready to uncover. I whispered into the stillness, “Lord, I don’t know why You’ve placed me here, but I will trust You. Use me as You will.”The wind stirred gently, carrying with it the faint scent of jasmine, and I felt a peace that words could not describe. I didn’t have the answers, but I had faith. And for now, that was enough.
