Who can find a virtuous woman? For her price is far above rubies.
Flash Fiction:

Meanwhile, the chief official of King Lemuel’s dealings had been busy seeking out the fairest maidens and most noble daughters within all the land; set on finding a wife for the King, many beautiful and wealthy women were brought to court for the King’s inspection.

The women were rude- shoving their ladies off on hurried errands within remote locations within the city, only to show little gratitude when the task was complete. All of them were lovely, but in arrogant and highly superficial ways: King Lemuel assumed these women spent as much time getting ready each day as he when preparing for battle; and while he respected their efforts (only in the slightest way) he found them all ill-suited as a partner in his most important business matters and strict royal affairs.

“Mother, what can be done?” The King inquired, leaning close to her before continuing, “My peoples need a queen! There are many issues that must be handled by a woman, and yet I see no one woman capable of upholding such pertinent issues. Maybe I should do as past Kings have done and take up a quorum?”

The mother of King Lemuel, slightly aghast at such a notion of seven wives, rolled her eyes, and continued- as a GOD fearing woman- with the prophetic wisdom she had traveled so far and stayed so long at court for the intention of sharing wisdom and aiding her son in finding his perfect wife: “Who can find a virtuous woman? For her price is far above rubies.”

Frustrated, the King adjourned the noblemen and their brood of haughty daughters from his court; some of them had begun bickering among themselves, and when dismissed without their pride and vanity satisfied by royal marriage, at last broke into attacks upon one another: the women’s gowns were ripped and hair was pulled amidst shrieks; their fathers threatened war upon each other’s land in deep, booming shouts: the attendants worked vigorously to remove them all from the King’s throne room.

Still, with much business left upon the daily agenda, King Lemuel called for his three stealthy servants, still set at the task daily of following the woman of the city; but one returned within the hour of his call.

“Where are your partners?” the King asked, eyeing the manservant- who was very much winded and his clothes were torn asunder.

“My lord,” he begun with great effort, panting slightly and attempting to straighten his attire. “My lord, the woman,” he gasped heavily, “the woman of the city… she is in great peril. I left my fellow servant at her aid! It seems those who practice the occult upon the high mountain know not of your fondness of her, and have chosen her as their next blood sacrifice.”

“Where is she?“ King Lemuel jumped from his throne, bidding his mother to stay put; a troop of guards could barely assemble themselves as quickly as King Lemuel, who- in a mad dash- grabbed his sword and mounted his stead.

The team on horseback, led by their king, raced through the city and towards the outskirts; the high mountain lay just beyond the river, which was crossed in a moment, the horses splashing and moving with their riders still atop them.

“Hurry, men! We must reach the top now!” The horses were no match for the steep climb and were left tied within a mountainside olive grove.

As King Lemuel climbed farther and faster than any one of his guardsmen, he could hear the woman of the city mocking the occult practices, “My blood will not be spilled today! Your gods are dead! Your idols are made by your own hands! They cannot help you! They will not protect you! They cannot hear you! Your worship but the demonic forces, the legions of angels fallen from the Heavens my GOD made. You will be destroyed before any harm will come of me!”

Rejoicing as such fierce faith, and the fortune of their timing, King Lemuel and his men reached the pinnacle height of the mountain.

“My Lord!” A man dressed in a hooded gown singled to his fellows to bow low to the King. “Have you come to gain your share of power? We have found the perfect sacrifice: a woman unspoiled by man, and a believer in a phony god.”

King Lemuel- of regal poise and shrewd craftiness- chuckled at the words of the hooded man. “Hahaha, let us see which of you- this woman who believes on the Most High God, or you all, who believe in many gods, can first achieve that which is believed should happen today?”

The members of the occult practice began laughing along with the King; the man dressed in the hood bowed again, “As you wish, my Lord,” and pulled a slender knife from within the depths of his robe.

In silence and profound understanding, the woman of the city remained quiet and still atop the alter of which she had been tied upon many hours earlier, and watched the events unfurl: as the chief member of the occult moved to lower the dagger into her heart, King Lemuel made one swoop of his sword, cleanly removing the head of the occult leader. In a flash of brilliant metals and swift movements, all of the occult members were dead, and the mountaintop was stilling with pools of their blood.

“Are you all right?” King Lemuel asked of the woman as he loosened her ropes and helped her sit upright up on the alter.

“I knew my GOD would not allow me to die today; not by the hands of the heathens I have dedicated my life to overcoming in His good name. Thank you my Lord. Our GOD smiles upon us today.”

“He does indeed,” King Lemuel announced, taking the woman’s hand and bringing it to his lips. “And now I ask of you but one favor: in return for bringing my men up here today, and for rescuing your life.”

The woman of the city smiled keenly, “Anything my Lord! I am forever your servant! Ask of me and it shall be done!”

King Lemuel, without a moment’s pause, continued, “Be my wife, and queen of all my lands.”

Within a fortnight. it was upon that very mountaintop that King Lemuel and the woman of the city were sealed in holy matrimony.

Let him drink, and forget his poverty, and remember his misery no more.

Flash Fiction:

As King Lemuel led his mother, the sick elderly, and the young maiden into his decorative chamber, the servants of the palace were arranging wide feast upon the many ornate tables. “How long has your father been like this?” The King asked, placing himself atop his royal throne.

“As long as I have remembered,” the woman began, “he has flashed in and out of spells, as if the demons allow him the mockery of sane moments so they may torment him with remembrance of the foul behavior he has endured by their control.” Tears filled her eyes. “To even mention the mischief my father has done! He is a good man, he would never do if he were of a right mind. But the spirits of dark force lay hold.”

“How have you managed?” King Lemuel inquired.

The woman straightened her posture, and looked straight toward the King by means of such fierce composure of certainty, “Our household has managed by the power of GOD alone,” she briefly uttered to the King, a great air of dignity in her poise and mannerism.

The King’s mother sat along her son and the woman, speaking further on the prophecy, “Let him drink, and forget his poverty, and remember his misery no more.”

King Lemuel ushered for prayer warriors and the physicians of his palace to attend to the elderly man with unclean spirits, and called for strong drink. “Your father has never tasted such an ale; my master brewers ferment this combination of all the land’s finest wheat and hops., barley and choice fruit. Give this to your father, for I have prayed over his cup, and have asked the GOD of Almighty to bless him.”

The people of the court raised their glasses in sincere praise of the Most High God, asking for the sanctification of them all, and redemption for the man ill of unclean spirits.

Open thy mouth for the dumb in the cause of all such as are appointed to destruction.

Flash Fiction:

King Lemuel saw to the care of both the woman of the city and her father possessed of unclean spirits; the King pitied the man, and enjoyed the pleasant sight of the young woman.

Staying at court as well, the mother of the King allowed the prophecy to be told slowly; her son thought it prudent, allowing keen wisdom to be absorbed slowing, ascertaining sound doctrine within subtle and lasting increments.

After breakfast one day, when the servants were clearing the banquet hall, the mother of King Lemuel was asked to utter forth the next portion of her prophecy: “Open thy mouth for the dumb in cause of all such are appointed to destruction.”

This sensible instruction weighed upon the king, who- sitting upon his throne- could still see the lovely woman of his city and her ill father: struggling on the other side of the royal feast chamber, ushered away by the King’s physicians and prayer warriors, the sick man was taken from the window ledge of which he was currently trying to throw himself. The wise King observed the woman’s composure; she was lovely, without hysteria, and entirely refined.

She rose smoothly from her place at the table, kindly thanking the doctors and servants assisting her father, and when she moved to leave the chambers of the palace- with full intention of maintaining her duties and obligations within the city- a disheveled manservant burst through the door and was thrown nearly at her feet.

The woman of the city let a quick gasp escape her. “Oh, Holy God, have mercy!“ she said unto herself a bit louder than intended. “This man! He is of my father’s household, and he is also possessed!”

The captain of the guard and his men were laughing together. “Your highness,” the captain announced, making a low bow and rising again, ignoring the words of the woman. “We found this trespasser. He is quite the nuisance. What shall you have us do with him?”

King Lemuel, fully aware of the state of this wretched man, called for his royal doctors, and commanded the guards return to their duties. Meanwhile, the woman bowed her head in submissive appreciation, and quietly slipped from the palace: the King bid three servants discretely follow her and report directly to him of her daily business affairs.

Open thy mouth, judge righteously, and plead the cause of the poor and needy.

Flash Fiction:

Returning to the castle at the end of a long day, the three servants came from their royal errand of following the woman of the city. King Lemuel saw their entrance into his throne room; yet before he would hear of what they had witnessed, he bid his mother to tell him the next portion of the prophecy.

His mother spoke stoutly, “Open thy mouth, judge righteously, and plead the cause of the poor and needy.” She folded her arms across her chest and watched the expression on her regal son’s face.

Within the ornate chamber of the King’s palace, many officials and dignitaries met to speak with the King. Fully away of protocol, the reigning patriarch took certain measure to attend business matters before speaking with his stealthy servants; he listened to the merchants complaints about taxation; he instructed the tax collectors more leniency towards the merchants; he turned his nose up at a noble from a distant land who had brought his daughter for marriage unto the King; the young noblewoman was haughty, proud, and loud: the very sound of her voice was scathing to the Kind’s ears.

At long last, when all matters of the court were finished, the three servants came forward, looking as eager and as full of anticipation as King Lemuel felt. “Tell me: what did you observe of the woman?”

The chief servant announced, “My Lord, no such woman of faith and strength resides in all of your city! We saw her today attending to the sick, those also ridden with unclean spirits; visiting some of the worst slums of the city, she ministered to the pour souls who cannot take care of themselves, often praying over them and calling on the One True God. Not once,” he continued, “Not once today did we see her eat more than a morsel of bread, of which she shared with some beggar children.”

When the servants had told of the woman’s affairs, the court began to assemble for dinner; the woman of the city slipped quietly into her usual seat at the far end of the chamber, reserved for the lowliest of the court.

“Bid her to come here,” the King said to a nearby attendant, pointing towards the woman and watching as she was summoned; at first, she looked startled, but rose swiftly, approaching the King boldly, and making a low and humble bow before his throne. “Tell me of your day, my lady.” King Lemuel inquired, intrigued to hear of her day from her own perspective.

With full modesty and in such dignified brevity, she spoke, “Just my usual tasks, my Lord. Nothing extraordinary, nor worthy of the King’s ear.”

The King asked, with straightforward concern, “How many are there? How many possessed are within my city?”

The woman stood upright, and met the King’s eye with fierce composure. “More than I can number, my Lord.”

“Why do you think this is so?”

For the first time since they had met, the woman of the city looked mortified; she thought heavily on her own words before speaking. “Oh, good King, I know of your faith in the One True God, and yet, the priests within the city are…” she paused, weighing carefully what she intended to say, “lax, and frankly, they are lazy. They take of the offering for themselves, and do not minister to the sick or give to the poor. They seem to scorn those of unclean spirits and keep to the wealthy and healthy members of their congregation, those who are pleasing to the eye and of sound mind.

“Furthermore,” she continued, “the occult of the city run ramped; they summon dark spirits they cannot control, and then the dark forces are let loose upon those already of weak minds. I know not what to do, but pray and attend to them daily.”

With his hand upon his beard, King Lemuel was perturbed by this information; he felt that this lacking by the priests was upon his own shoulders, and knew something must be done to aid the sick in spirit. “Come, sit here by my mother and I, and tell us what you would have done.”

The woman of the city bowed again, and took her place of honor near the King’s throne.

The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her, so that he shall have no need of spoil.
Flash Fiction:

In the days to follow the wedding and during the month of King Lemuel’s honeymoon with his wife, he noticed a new peace wash over him, as if his inner man was attributed with another half: his wife was the perfect complement to his knowledge-hungry life; they spent as much time embracing marital bliss in the royal bedchamber as they did in King Lemuel’s extensive library. The pair of reigning monarchs was secure in studying the scriptures, the writings of Kings and Queens gone by, and the wisdom of generations was ascertained in the unity of mutual respect and fondness. King Lemuel felt that GOD had blessed his providence with a wise woman, one fit to assist in leading the land, governing the women and servants of his household, and rearing children that would one day uphold his throne.

The new Queen bid the King’s mother to stay much longer at court; for the prophecy included instructions for a life as a good wife in the eyes of their shared GOD. It was of the Queen’s utmost aspiration to serve King Lemuel and their people with a pristine heart, one with understanding and fortitude of righteousness.

“Tell us more, mother,” the Queen bid to her elder.

The mother of King Lemuel- with joy in her heart, at last a woman whose son was introduced to the joys of marriage- cleared her throat with temperance, and continued where she left off. “The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her, so that he shall have no need of spoil.”

King Lemuel looked to his wife, and with a shrewd idea, offered a test unto his new bride. “My dear Queen of all my lands, and partner in all of my estate: I’ll have you know that my vaults below are heavily guarded, day and night, for I have the most esteemed treasures within all the land. If I were to allow you full access and disposal of my riches, what would you have done, in the name of our reign?”

The new Queen pondered deeply for a few minutes; the court was a bustle of mirthful noises of glee and anticipation, to hear what deed she would have done.

“My Lord,” the good woman began, “it is my belief in our GOD that I will serve you so that you may be confident in my decisions; I hope to make you secure in my ideas, and bold in support of that which I shall do.” She smiled, the beauty of love upon her face. “Therefore, I would do nothing to your riches, and allow the best governor of our finance, which is you, my lord, to be handled directly.” The crowd within the throne-room burst into hushed whispers and deep murmurs. “That said, I would hope you allow me to achieve other tasks, to complete duties to further our income opposed to depleting our wealth. Once a surplus is added to our vaults, I would hope- together, you and I- would offer assistance to the poor and the needy, the fatherless and the widows, providing ourselves as benefactors to them, and enriching the lives of the less fortunate.”

The King found his trust in his new wife to grow greater and more valuable in the days and weeks to follow.