The tension in the air was nearly suffocating.
As I stood in my chambers, the weight of the moment pressing against my chest, I knew there was no turning back. The time for hesitation had passed. My people’s fate, my own fate, rested upon what would happen tonight.
The banquet was prepared—the finest dishes, the richest wines. The room glowed with warm candlelight, casting golden reflections on the polished marble floors. Servants moved soundlessly, ensuring everything was perfect. But no amount of luxury could soften what was about to unfold.
Tonight, I would reveal the truth.
I closed my eyes and whispered a silent prayer, my fingers clenching the fabric of my gown. Give me courage, O Lord. Let my words find favor.
With one final breath, I lifted my chin, steadied my heart, and walked toward the banquet hall.
A Royal Invitation
King Xerxes and Haman were already seated when I entered. The king smiled upon seeing me, raising his goblet in greeting. Haman, his face still carrying traces of the humiliation from earlier that day, forced a grin, though his hands were clenched around his goblet.
This was the second banquet I had prepared for them, and I could see the curiosity flickering in the king’s eyes. He knew I had called them here for a reason.
As I took my seat, Xerxes leaned forward, his voice rich with expectation.
“My queen, we are here. What is your request?” he said, lifting his goblet. “Ask for anything—even half the kingdom—and it shall be yours.”
Haman smiled at these words, as if taking credit for his supposed influence over the king.
But his smile would not last long.
I placed my goblet down, steadying my breath. This was it.
“If I have found favor in your eyes, my king,” I began, keeping my voice steady, “and if it pleases you, grant me my life… and spare my people.”
Xerxes’ smile faltered. A shadow of confusion crossed his face.
I saw Haman stiffen beside him, his fingers going rigid around his cup.
“For we have been sold,” I continued, my voice unwavering, “my people and I—to be destroyed, killed, and annihilated.”
Silence fell over the banquet hall.
The king’s eyes darkened. He sat up straighter, his expression shifting from confusion to anger.
“What?” His voice was sharp, demanding.
“If we had merely been sold as slaves, I would not have spoken,” I said, lowering my gaze. “But this is a death sentence, my king. Someone has plotted to wipe out an entire people from your kingdom.”
Xerxes’ face was thunderous now. His eyes burned with fury.
“Who is he?” he bellowed.
“Where is the man who has dared to do this?”
I turned my gaze toward Haman.
And then, in a voice calm but heavy with finality, I said:
“The adversary and enemy… is this vile Haman.”
The Moment of Reckoning
Haman’s goblet slipped from his fingers, the wine spilling across the table like blood.
His face drained of color, his mouth opening and closing, but no words came out. The weight of my accusation hit him like a crushing wave.
The king’s breath came heavy, his fury unmistakable. The man he had trusted, his closest advisor, had betrayed him.
Xerxes stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor as he stormed out of the banquet hall into the garden.
He needed air. He needed to think.
I watched him go, my heart pounding in my chest. This was no longer in my hands.
Now, judgment belonged to the king.
Haman’s Plea
The moment Xerxes left, Haman fell at my feet.
“Please, my queen,” he gasped, his voice desperate, shaking. “Spare my life. I did not know—I did not mean—”
His words stumbled over themselves, his fear palpable. The arrogance that had once dripped from his every word was gone. Now, he was nothing but a terrified man, realizing that his fate was sealed.
He clutched at my gown, begging for mercy.
It was a strange thing—to see a man so powerful now groveling at my feet.
The man who had sought to slaughter my people.
But before I could even react, the doors swung open.
Xerxes stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable. His gaze flickered between us—Haman at my feet, my face calm but unyielding.
A sneer curled his lip.
“Will he even assault the queen in my presence, in my own house?”
Haman recoiled in horror, realizing how the scene must have looked. But it was too late.
The king did not wait for an answer. He turned to the guards standing at the entrance.
“Take him away.”
The Fall of Haman
The guards seized Haman, dragging him to his feet. Panic flared in his eyes as he was pulled toward the exit.
“My lord—please!” he cried. “Mercy! I have served you faithfully—”
Xerxes did not even look at him.
Just as they reached the door, one of the king’s eunuchs, Harbona, stepped forward.
“My lord,” Harbona said, his voice neutral, “there is a gallows outside—fifty cubits high—standing in Haman’s courtyard. It was built for Mordecai, the man who saved the king’s life.”
A slow silence followed.
The words sank in.
Xerxes’ gaze flickered, realization dawning in his eyes. Haman had not only sought to destroy his queen’s people—he had planned the death of the very man who had once saved him.
The king exhaled sharply, his face unreadable. Then, with a finality that sent shivers through the room, he said:
“Hang him on it.”
Haman’s screams echoed through the halls as the guards dragged him away.
I closed my eyes, exhaling slowly.
It was over.
Haman, the man who had sought the destruction of the Jews, the man who had stood at the peak of power, had fallen.
And the gallows he had built for another… had become his own.
The Turning Point
I sat in silence long after everyone had left the banquet hall. The remnants of the meal, the spilled wine, the empty chairs—it all felt like echoes of a past moment, already fading.
For the first time in weeks, I felt light.
But I knew it was not finished yet.
Yes, Haman was dead. But the decree—the one that sentenced my people to death—still stood.
Until that decree was undone, the battle was not over.
I had won one victory.
But another still remained.
And I would fight for it.
