Chapter 14
It was the easier of the two letters I had to write that night in my tent. Darius and I had already exchanged verbal blows when he offered me western Asia and the hand of his eldest daughter, and I reminded him that: 1. Said daughter was already under my loving protection, and 2. I had not kneaded the dough to be content with half a loaf.
Now I had to adopt another tone altogether as I wrote him that a star had fallen from the sky with the passing of his beloved queen. This brought a not-altogether-unexpected rebuke, accusing the queen and myself of adultery—a reproach I felt compelled to answer immediately and unequivocally:
“Sir: Know that the son the queen struggled so valiantly to deliver was yours. I never saw her while she lived. And having never seen her could neither
