Chapter 11 | Ahithophel the Wise

As I slowly sip from my goblet of wine, I avoid the glaring eyes burning holes through my skin. King David seems to be unaware of the blazing stares cast my way. He seems oblivious to the shame and disgrace he has publically shown his first wife Michal, by having me sit at his right side. The air is rife with tension. 

If looks could kill, I would be drowning in a pool of blood at Michal's feet. Her eyes are not the only pair that I intentionally avoid, though. My grandfather sits at the en