Naamah

Naamah watched through the window as her husband helped the Queen of Sheba descend from her litter. She noted the smiles they exchanged. The Queen didn’t veil her face as Naamah was accustomed to when she was in public. But Solomon seemed more gratified than horrified at the omission.

“I wonder when the last time was that Solomon looked at me like that.” She didn’t say the words out loud, but the wistful look on her face would have clued in anyone watching the scene.

She continued her inner dialog. “I wish he would never have become king. We were so happy when we first married.” She thought back to when her son, Rehoboam was born and the happy times they had as a little family. “I was an outsider, but no one cared back then.”

She shook her head as her thoughts meandered on. “But everything changed when he became king. Suddenly I was the ‘commoner’ and not quite good enough to be the wife of the king. Even Bathsheba, his mother, changed at that point. She, of all people, should have known how I felt. She was an outsider too. But that changed once she was the ‘Queen mother.’”

“I remember when Solomon married that beautiful Egyptian princess. She was the first one, and I didn’t see him very much after that. She was always flirting with him and he forgot all about me, even though he assured me he still loved me, that he only married her for a political alliance.”

She watched Solomon and the Queen walking to the palace. “How many women does he have by now? It must be close to a thousand.” Her eyes narrowed and her lips tightened. “He’s putting on a pretty good front with the Queen, but I know how much he’s changed. Unless I’m really wrong, he’ll rope her into being another one of his wives or concubines before she leaves.”

Legend has it that the Queen bore a son to Solomon when she returned home. He went on to become the Emperor when he grew up.

 

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