Nefertiti

rambling about something his grandfather once carved into his bedposts and onto his shields!” I had never seen my aunt so enraged. “He will be the unmaking of the country, Ay. My husband will not live forever! Your daughter must control him before he becomes Pharaoh of Upper Egypt as well.”

My father looked across at me. “What has Nefertiti been saying?”

“She is listening to him,” I said.

“That’s it?”

I bit my tongue and nodded so I wouldn’t have to lie.

“Give her time.” Ay turned to his sister. “It’s only been a day.”

“In a day, Ptah created the world,” she answered, and we all knew what she meant. That in a day, her son could undo it.

In Malkata Palace, Nefertiti and I were both undressed and given new gowns for the feasts celebrating the coronation. Ipu and Merit scurried like cats, finding sandals that would complement our sheaths and painting our eyes in black and green. Merit held Nefertiti’s crown with awe, and placed it on her head while we all watched, holding our breaths. I tried to imagine being Queen of Egypt and wearing the cobra around my brow. “What does it feel like?” I asked.

Nefertiti closed her eyes. “Like being a goddess.”

“Will you go to him before the feast?”

“Of course. I will walk in on his arm. You don’t think I’d risk having him go with Kiya? It’s bad enough he will go back to her bed.”

“It’s the custom, Nefertiti. Father said he’ll be with her every fortnight. There’s nothing you can do.”

“There’s plenty I can do!” Her eyes darted wildly across the chamber. “For one, we’re not staying in these rooms.”

“What?” I had arranged all my potted herbs along the windowsill. I had unpacked my chests. “But we’re only in Thebes until Tiye announces when we’ll move on to Memphis. I’ll have to repack.”

“Ipu will do it for you. Why should the Pharaoh and queen sleep apart? Our parents sleep in one room,” she pointed out.

“But they aren’t—”

“Power.” She raised her finger while our body servants pretended not to listen. “That’s why. They don’t want the queen to have too much power.”

“That’s foolish. Queen Tiye is Pharaoh in all but name.”

“Yes.” Nefertiti began brushing her hair vigorously, dismissing Merit and Ipu with a wave. “In all but name. What more in life do we have but our name? What will be remembered in eternity? The gown I wore or the name I carried?”

“Your deeds. They will be remembered.”

“Will Tiye’s deeds be remembered, or will they be recorded as her husband’s?”

“Nefertiti.” I shook my head. She was aiming too high.

“What?” She tossed the brush aside, knowing that Merit would pick it up later. “Hatshepsut was king. She had herself crowned.”

“You are meant to discourage him,” I said. “You were talking about Aten on the barge!”

“Father said to control him.” She grinned smugly. “He didn’t say how. Come.”

“Come where?”

“To the king’s chamber.”

She moved down the hall and I followed on her heels. In front of Pharaoh’s room, a pair of guards moved aside. We swept into Amunhotep’s anteroom and stood before the entrances to two separate chambers. One was clearly Amunhotep’s bedroom. Nefertiti looked at the second room and nodded. “That will be yours after the feasts.”

I stared at her. “And where will you stay?”

“In here.”

She pushed opened the doors to the king’s private chamber and I heard Amunhotep’s gasp of surprise. I caught a glimpse of tiled walls and alabaster lamps, then the doors swung shut and I was alone in the king’s private antechamber. There was silence for a moment, then laughter echoed through the walls. I waited in the antechamber for Nefertiti to come out, thinking the laughter would eventually cease, but the sun sank lower and lower in the sky and there was no indication of when they would emerge.

I seated myself and looked around. On a low table, hastily scrawled poems to Aten had been written on papyrus. I glanced at the king’s door, which was firmly shut, then read them while I waited. They were psalms to the sun. “Giver of breath to animals…Thy rays are in the midst of the great green sea.” There was sheaf after sheaf of poetry, each one different, each one praising Aten. For several hours, I read while inside Nefertiti spoke. The sound of Amunhotep’s voice penetrated through the walls, and I didn’t dare to imagine what they were speaking of so passionately. Eventually, evening fell, and I began to wonder if we would ever go to the feast. When someone knocked on the door, I hesitated, but Nefertiti’s voice rang out brightly, “Mutny can answer it.”

She knew I’d still be waiting.

On the other side of the door was General Nakhtmin.

He stepped back, shocked to see me in the king’s antechamber, and I could tell by the way his eyes shifted to the king’s door that he was wondering if Amunhotep had taken both sisters as lovers. “My lady.” His gaze focused on the closed inner chamber. “I see that the Pharaoh is otherwise…occupied.”

I flushed a brilliant scarlet. “Yes, he is busy now.”

“Then perhaps you can give him the message that his father and mother are awaiting his presence in the Great Hall. The feast in his honor has been going on for some hours.”

“Perhaps you can give him the message?” I said. “I…would hate to disturb them.”

He raised his brows. “All right.”

He knocked on the king’s door, and I heard my sister’s voice call sweetly, “Enter.” The general disappeared and reappeared a moment later. “They have said that they will come when they are ready.”

I did my best to hide my disappointment, and the general held out his arm to me.

“That doesn’t mean you should miss the feasts.”

I looked at the closed door and hesitated. If I left, Nefertiti would be angry. She would accuse me of abandoning her. But I had studied the same mosaics in the antechamber for hours and the sun had already set…

Rashly, I held out my arm, and the general smiled.

On a dais in the Great Hall were now four golden thrones. Beneath them a long table had been arranged where my mother and father were sitting; I could see them talking and eating with the viziers of the Elder’s court. The general brought me over to them, and I was aware of my aunt’s sharp eyes following us.

“Vizier Ay.” The general bowed politely. “The Lady Mutnodjmet has arrived.”

I felt a small thrill that he knew my name. My father stood, frowning over my shoulder to ask harshly, “This is well, but where is my other daughter?”

The general and I looked at each other.

“They said they would come when they were ready,” I replied. I could feel the burn in my cheeks, and someone at the table inhaled. It was Kiya.

“Thank you,” my father said, and the general disappeared.

I sat down and bowls of food appeared before me: roasted goose in garlic, barley beer, and honeyed lamb. Music was being played, and over the clatter of bowls it was difficult to hear what my parents were speaking of. But Kiya leaned across the table, and her voice was clear.