The boy ran to me, and I mouthed, ‘Not here!’ I passed him quickly, and he followed silently. When we turned behind the temple, he wrapped his tiny hands around me, trembling behind my cloak. I pulled him to face me, planted a kiss on his wet temple, and drew him in for another hug—a proper one this time.

We sat down at our familiar spot, the one we’d been retreating to since the first day I revealed myself to him two years ago. He was five now, but whenever I glanced at him, I saw my brother. He had the same skin hue, the same sturdy frame, and—most hauntingly—my brother’s eyes. Only his hair resembled his mother’s: silky and bouncy, curling around a round forehead.

‘Did the nurse tell you about me?’ I asked him once I was sure we were alone.

‘Yes. She said you’re my aunt.’

I exhaled, relieved not to have to explain that part. ‘What else did she say?’

‘She said you’d tell me the rest.’ His wide, curious eyes locked with mine, and for a moment I swore I saw Ahaziah—my brother—looking back at me. When I recovered, I gestured for him to sit on the smoothest stone nearby.

‘What would you like to know?’

‘Everything,’ he said. His little fingers dug into the stone beneath him. ‘Where’s my mum and my dad, why did I grow up in a temple and not at home? Why am I seeing you for the first time?’

I clasped my hands and steadied my breath. ‘You were barely a year old when it happened. Your father—my brother—was king. Our king.’

His eyes grew even wider, and I nodded, wanting him to realise his father was no ordinary man.

‘He died a year into his rule,’ I continued. ‘You’re hiding because someone wants to keep you from succeeding him—someone deadly, the current queen.’ I paused so he could take in the gravity of it. ‘She’s your father’s mother. Because of her, you have no siblings, no cousins… you are the sole heir to the throne.’

I watched him trying to piece it all together. ‘You and I, we shared a bond. So when your grandmother became power-hungry and ordered the death of all who might challenge her throne, I acted on instinct. I wrapped you in my robe and ran to the temple.’

He stared at me, lips parted in shock. I could still remember cradling him against my chest that night, his tiny heartbeat pulsing against me. It hurt to hand him over to the temple nurse, but it was the only way to keep him alive.

‘Why… why would my grandmother do all that?’ he whispered.

I cleared my throat. ‘She followed the same devotion our family was bound to for generations. A demon called Baal. Your father—my brother—followed that path too. He paid for it with his life. But the one who rose after him… that was his mother, Athaliah.’

I paused, letting the name hang in the air. Athaliah, the queen who had upended everything with her ruthless ambition. And here, hidden in a dusty corner of the temple, sat the rightful heir to the throne, living as a secret. But not for long.

That day, I told him why it was important he kept it a secret between us—me, him, and the nurse. ‘You’ll be dead if word gets out. If she knows you’re alive.’

He nodded silently, his young mind still processing all the information I’d shared. I had to tell him. He would need the years ahead to prepare. The plan was in place; evil would be purged, and Athaliah’s dreadful reign would be brought to a halt… forever.

‘Aunt Jehosheba?’ His voice brought me back to the present. ‘I’m scared.’

He didn’t have to explain. With his coronation just a week away, I knew what he meant—it was one thing to survive in secret, it was another to stand publicly to face evil, to announce to the one who kills without mercy that you’re alive and about to take her most precious asset: the throne.

I threw my right arm over his shoulder and rocked him gently. ‘YHWH has kept you these six years. He won’t let anything happen to you now.’

He nodded.

When he spoke again, it was to ask the question he has asked the first time we met two years ago. ‘How did she become like this? I mean my grandmother. How did her heart get so hard she would kill her own grandchildren to hold on to power?’

I smiled. For a seven-year-old, Joash had the mind of ancient kings, and a wisdom beyond his years. I settled beside him, taking in his wide-eyed curiosity. If he was to reclaim the throne, he had to know what he was up against.

I inhaled and finally began, ‘Athaliah came from Israel, from the lineage of King Ahab.’

Joash’s eyes flickered with recognition; even at seven, he had heard whispers of Ahab’s notorious reign. ‘He was the king who worshipped Baal, wasn’t he?’

I nodded. ‘Yes, and so did his wife, Queen Jezebel. They built altars to Baal throughout Israel, leading people astray from the worship of YHWH. From what my father told me, Athaliah grew up in that household, where fear and power ruled every decision. She learned that cruelty could bend people’s wills. She witnessed how her parents crushed anyone who defied them.’

Joash clenched his jaw, small fists resting on his thighs. ‘So she thought being ruthless was normal.’

‘Exactly,’ I said quietly. ‘Jezebel was known for silencing prophets of YHWH, for orchestrating the downfall of anyone who stood in her way. Athaliah watched her mother’s tactics—and her father’s military might—and saw how effectively they held on to power. That was her first lesson: that a strong ruler tolerates no opposition.’

I paused, recalling the older members of Judah’s court who gossiped about the day Athaliah arrived in Jerusalem. ‘She came here as a bride for Jehoram, your grandfather Jehoshaphat’s son. That marriage was meant to form a fragile alliance between Israel and Judah. But bringing a princess from Ahab’s line meant something else slipped in along with her: Baal worship. She introduced it to the palace. At first quietly, as a foreign tradition. Then more brazenly, once she gained influence over your father, Ahaziah.’

Joash’s brows knit together in confusion. ‘But my father—did he serve Baal the way she did?’

‘Your father had moments when he struggled,’ I admitted. ‘He was torn between loyalty to his mother’s ways and the ancient faith of our people—of King David and King Solomon, who built this very kingdom in YHWH’s name. Unfortunately, Athaliah’s whispers were constant. By the time your father realised the path he was on, it was too late.’

The boy’s gaze dropped to his lap, where his fists were balled even tighter. ‘He died because of her,’ he said. ‘Didn’t he?’

I brushed my hand over his. ‘He died because he was caught in a violent revolt up north, where Jehu wiped out the house of Ahab. But yes—his mother’s influence paved the way. In truth, many in Judah resented how the palace had started pushing Baal worship. When your father was killed, Athaliah saw her chance. She eliminated every child of royal blood to protect her throne.’

Joash shivered, whether from the chill of the temple’s stone walls or from the tale of betrayal, I couldn’t be sure. ‘But why didn’t someone stop her?’

‘Because by that time, fear had choked the palace,’ I explained. ‘She was queen mother—she commanded soldiers loyal to her. The older nobles were too frightened to stand against her. Some priests tried to speak out, but she silenced them or forced them into hiding. In just a few days, her power became absolute. That was The Rise Of Athaliah—the moment she seized the throne by blood and terror.’

Joash stared at me, a mixture of sorrow and steely resolve flickering across his small features. ‘She can’t keep ruling. This isn’t right.’

‘She won’t,’ I promised gently, placing my hand on his shoulder. ‘Your uncle, the high priest Jehoiada, and I have been planning. There are still faithful soldiers in the guard, and many in Judah who long to see the House of David restored. In one week, we’ll announce your coronation. Athaliah will finally face justice for what she’s done.’

He nodded, though the fear in his eyes remained. ‘I’m still scared,’ he whispered. ‘She’s… she’s ruthless, Aunt.’

I enveloped him in a hug and felt his thin arms wrap around me. ‘She is. But you must trust in YHWH,’ I said. ‘He has guarded you for six years in secrecy. He will guard you now in the light.’

Joash exhaled, perhaps trying to steady his own courage. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘I’ll trust Him. And I’ll trust you.’

The look he gave me was so earnest, I felt tears prick my eyes. ‘There is no turning back after this,’ I reminded him. ‘The moment you step forward as the rightful heir, Athaliah will do everything in her power to destroy you.’

He released me and stood, small but unflinching. ‘Then let her try,’ he said, voice trembling with courage. ‘I have nothing else to lose.’

A tense silence lingered, echoing our shared realisation that there was indeed no turning back. Athaliah’s story was one of a ruthless queen who had drunk from the same cup as her mother, Jezebel—a toxic mixture of fear and insatiable ambition. But Joash’s story was yet unwritten. For the sake of our people and the God we serve, we would rewrite Judah’s history and rescue our lineage from Athaliah’s shadow.

‘Come,’ I said, guiding him back into the temple corridors. ‘We still have to practise the coronation rites—and you’ll need to learn the Psalms the Levites will sing.’

He laughed nervously. ‘I never knew becoming king involved memorising so many Psalms.’

I couldn’t help smiling in return. ‘You’ll discover there’s much more to kingship than crowns and ceremonies. But for now, each Psalm you learn is a prayer of protection, a reminder of whom we serve. Keep it in your heart.’

We walked on through the corridor, the flickering lamplight revealing the carved pillars and solemn statues. Yet, for the first time in years, I felt a spark of hope. Soon, the throne Athaliah usurped would be returned to its rightful heir. And as Joash took each step, I realised he was not just a trembling boy with a tragic destiny—he was the future of Judah, braver and stronger than he knew.

We had one short week left. A week to keep the deception, a week to solidify our alliances. Then, when the horns of the temple blew and the people gathered, the tyrant queen would find the last living seed of the House of David standing where she least expected him: at the centre of the Temple of YHWH, ready to reclaim his birthright.

‘YHWH has kept you,’ I whispered to Joash as we descended towards the priests’ quarters. ‘He will not fail you when you face her.’

He nodded again, his resolve seemed to deepen with each breath. And in that moment, I saw in his young gaze a glimmer of the king he would become—steadfast, reliant on God’s strength, determined to overthrow the legacy of fear his grandmother had cast upon our land.

Soon, the age of Athaliah would end. And from it, a new dawn would rise.

2 Kings 8:16–11:20 : Key biblical references to Athaliah’s story, from her rise to her eventual downfall.

2 Kings 8:16–18

In the fifth year of Joram son of Ahab, king of Israel, when Jehoshaphat was king of Judah, Jehoram son of Jehoshaphat king of Judah began to reign. He was thirty-two years old when he became king, and he reigned in Jerusalem eight years. He followed the ways of the kings of Israel, as the house of Ahab had done, for he married a daughter of Ahab. He did evil in the eyes of the Lord.

2 Kings 8:25–27

In the twelfth year of Joram son of Ahab, king of Israel, Ahaziah son of Jehoram king of Judah began to reign. Ahaziah was twenty-two years old when he became king, and he reigned in Jerusalem one year. His mother’s name was Athaliah, a granddaughter of Omri king of Israel. He followed the ways of the house of Ahab and did evil in the eyes of the Lord, as the house of Ahab had done, for he was related by marriage to Ahab’s family.

2 Kings 9:27–28

When Ahaziah king of Judah saw what had happened, he fled up the road to Beth Haggan. Jehu chased him, shouting, “Kill him too!” They wounded him in his chariot on the way up to Gur near Ibleam, but he escaped to Megiddo and died there. His servants took him by chariot to Jerusalem and buried him with his ancestors in his tomb in the City of David.

2 Kings 11:1–3

When Athaliah, the mother of Ahaziah, saw that her son was dead, she proceeded to destroy the whole royal family. But Jehosheba, the daughter of King Jehoram and sister of Ahaziah, took Joash son of Ahaziah and stole him away from among the royal princes who were about to be murdered. She put him and his nurse in a bedroom to hide him from Athaliah; so he was not killed. He remained hidden with his nurse at the temple of the Lord for six years while Athaliah ruled the land.

2 Kings 11:4–20