The Saint
In the days of Xerxes, who reigned from India to Ethiopia over a hundred and twenty-seven provinces …
This was supposed to be a sexy book?
Eleanor kept reading. She read it all, beginning to end. There was something odd about the story, something not quite right. Esther … and the king … did they really …? No way. But maybe?
She closed her Bible, and found Søren again in his office.
“Did I just read what I think I just read?” Eleanor asked without preamble.
“What do you think you read?” Søren asked as he closed a book and gave her his full attention.
“King Xerxes fired his queen and then needed a new queen.”
“Yes.”
“And he auditioned for a new queen.”
“That he did.”
“Am I reading it wrong or did King Xerxes audition for virgin queen candidates by f**king them?”
“That would be one rather graphic, albeit accurate, way of putting it.”
“So he did?”
“Yes.”
“So King Xerxes had virgins brought in from all over the Empire. He gave them a year to pretty themselves up for him, and then they had a one-night audition with him in his bedroom to become queen.”
“Is there a question in there somewhere, Eleanor?”
“Yes. What did Esther do?”
“I don’t follow.”
“To the king to get him to pick her, I mean,” Eleanor explained. “What did she do that the other girls didn’t do so she could be queen?”
“I assume she was better in bed than the rest of them.”
Eleanor gaped at Søren.
“What?” he asked.
“The reason she was the person chosen to save the Jewish people was because she was good in the sack?”
“The Lord works in mysterious ways.”
“The Lord works through sex?”
“All the time. Saints were babies once. They had to be conceived through sexual intercourse. There’s nothing un-biblical about that.”
“But Esther wasn’t married to the king. She was part of a harem. She had premarital sex. Catholics aren’t allowed to have premarital sex.”
“Esther wasn’t Catholic. Catholicism hadn’t been invented yet.”
She glowered at him.
“You know what I mean. It’s in the Bible.”
“Shocking, isn’t it?” He didn’t sound the least shocked, only amused.
“I’m speechless.”
“Then why are you still talking?”
“Because I found a biblical heroine who is a biblical heroine because she spread for a king. It’s seriously sexy but seems like a piss-poor way to choose a world leader. Or not. Maybe that’s how we got President Clinton.”
“In all fairness to Esther, she was a prisoner and didn’t have much choice in the matter—the sex or becoming queen.”
“She was amazing in bed and that helped her save her people.”
“I knew you’d like her.”
“I want to be her. I wonder if Xerxes was hot.”
“Perhaps he looked like Eddie Vedder.”
“Do you even know who that is?”
“No.”
“I didn’t think so. I wonder what Esther did to impress the king so much in one night.”
Søren picked up his pen and tapped it on the desk.
“She was beautiful, according to the author of the book,” Søren said. “And clearly intelligent. The women of the harem were allowed to take anything they wanted with them for their night with the king. But Esther takes only what the harem guard Hegai says she should take. Smart of her to ask someone in the know what he would suggest.”
“Maybe she didn’t ask him because he knew the king. Maybe she asked him because he was a man.”
“That’s one possibility.” Søren flipped through his Bible.
“What would you have told Esther to do?”
“Pardon?” Søren arched an eyebrow at her.
“If this virgin girl came to you and said that she was going to spend a night with the king, what advice would you give her?”
“Interesting question. Priests aren’t often asked for sex advice. Then again, Hegai was a eunuch. I doubt they’re often asked for sex advice, either.”
“What’s a eunuch?”
“A castrated man.”
“Ow.”
“Exactly.”
“Well, a priest is better than a eunuch for advice, then. I’m guessing you still have all your original parts.”
“Warranty included,” he said.
Eleanor crossed her arms and leaned against the door frame.
“So what would you tell Esther to do?”
“I was hoping you’d forgotten that question.”
She heard a tense note in his voice.
“Oh, sorry,” she said. “We’re not supposed to be talking about S-E-X, are we?”
“We can talk about sex in a biblical context.”
“Does it embarrass you, talking about sex?”
“Embarrass wouldn’t be the word,” he said. “I’m disconcerted, perhaps.”
“Disconcerted?” she repeated. “Talking about sex disconcerts you.”
“No, talking about sex with you disconcerts me.”
“So you don’t like it?”
“I like it far too much. And I think you know that.”