come to him with any sign of trouble, and so far as I could see there was no trouble in moving a courtyard away. Besides, the entire palace would know soon enough.
“Kiya will be beside herself.” Nefertiti grinned, practically dancing through our new rooms and pointing to tapestries she wanted moved.
“Be careful with Kiya,” I replied. “Her father can make trouble for us. And if Kiya has a son, then Panahesi will be the grandfather to the heir of Egypt.”
“By the end of Shemu I’m sure I’ll be pregnant.” We both looked at her belly. She was small and slender. But by Pachons she could be carrying Egypt’s heir. “And my sons will always be first in line for the throne. If I can get five sons from Amunhotep, our family will have five chances.” And only if all of her sons were to die would any of Kiya’s sons stand in line for the crown.
I watched her pick up a brush and start on her hair, the deep, silky blackness of it framing her face. Then the door opened to the antechamber and Amunhotep strolled in.
“Queen of Egypt and queen of my—” He stopped short when he saw me in his room. His mood darkened quickly. “And what are you two sisters gossiping about?”
“You, of course.” Nefertiti opened her arms, making light of his suspicions, and wrapped him in her embrace. “So tell me,” she said intimately, “what is the news?”
His face lightened. “Tomorrow my mother will announce when we are to move to Memphis, where we will build such temples as the world has never seen.”
“We should begin at once,” my sister agreed. “Then in time you will be known as Amunhotep the Builder.”
“Amunhotep the Builder.” A dreamy look passed over Amunhotep’s eyes. “They’ll forget about Tuthmosis when they see what I do. When we leave for Memphis,” Amunhotep said decisively, “my father’s architect must come with us.” He stepped away from my sister’s embrace. “I will write to Maya to make sure he understands the choice that lies before him. To follow the future,” he said as he walked swiftly to his chamber, “or be buried in the past.”
The door swung shut behind him, and I looked at Nefertiti. She wouldn’t meet my gaze. When there was a knock at the outer door, she rose quickly to get it.
“Vizier Panahesi!” she said delightedly. “Won’t you come in?”
Panahesi stepped back, shocked to see her in the king’s private antechamber. He stepped in gingerly, as if he thought he might wake from a dream. My sister’s voice was not sweet when she asked him, “What do you want?”
“I have come to see Pharaoh.”
“Pharaoh is busy.”
“Don’t play with me, child. I will see him. I am the Vizier of Egypt and you are just one of many wives. You would do well to remember that. He may be passionate for you now, but by the end of Shemu his ardor will cool.”
I held my breath to see what Nefertiti would do. Then she spun on her heel and went to find Amunhotep, leaving me alone. The vizier nodded at the second room. “Is that your chamber now?”
“Yes.”
“Interesting.”
Amunhotep reappeared with my sister, and at once Panahesi swept him a bow. “You did well yesterday, Your Majesty.” He moved quickly to the king’s side and added, “All that’s left is to sail to Memphis and ascend your throne.”
“And wait for the Elder to die,” Amunhotep said with brutal frankness. “He doesn’t see the greed of the Amun priests.”
Panahesi glanced at Nefertiti, then at me. “Do you think, perhaps, we should talk about this elsewhere?”
Nefertiti was quick. “My husband trusts me, Vizier. Whatever you have to say can be said in the presence of everyone here.” She smiled sweetly at Amunhotep, but her eyes were full of warning.
He nodded. “Of course. I trust my wife as I trust Aten.”
Panahesi grew furious. “Then perhaps Your Majesty might not want privileged information to be heard by younger, more impressionable women.”
“My sister is neither young nor impressionable,” Nefertiti said sweetly. “Perhaps you are thinking of your own daughter at her age?”
Amunhotep laughed. “Go on, Vizier. What is it you have to say?”
But by now Panahesi had lost his way. “I simply came to congratulate Your Majesty.” He turned to leave, and then, as if on second thought, he added, “Though many may have wished for your brother yesterday, I know you shall rule with greater wisdom and strength.”
Panahesi had found a way past Nefertiti. “There are factions, my lord, who wish for Tuthmosis. Surely you see them. Of course, once we go to Memphis, it will be telling who chooses to come with us and who chooses to stay behind.”
“Will the architect Maya come with us?” he demanded.
“It’s possible.” Panahesi spread his hands. “If we get to him.”
“And the army?”
“It will be divided in two.”
Amunhotep was silent, then he said with venom, “You will make sure this court knows that when I go to Memphis, either they are with me or against me. And they had best remember which Pharaoh will live longer!”
Panahesi bowed out of the chamber. “I will do as I am told, Your Majesty.”
Nefertiti shut the door behind him and Amunhotep dropped into a gold and leather chair. “Why doesn’t your father come to congratulate me on my coronation?”
“My father doesn’t offer congratulations where none are needed. Everyone knows you were chosen by the gods to rule as Pharaoh.”
Amunhotep glanced up from under his thick lashes. He was a boy. A sulking, insecure child. “Then why did Panahesi say—”
“He is lying!” Nefertiti exclaimed. “Who would be so foolish as to wish for your brother’s rule when they could serve a Pharaoh like you?”
But a light flickered in Amunhotep’s eyes and he turned. “If my brother had not died, you would be his wife.”
“I would never have been Tuthmosis’s wife,” Nefertiti said quickly.
It was dangerous, the way the king’s thoughts were tending. Amunhotep turned on me. “They say the sister of Nefertiti never lies. Did your father ever mention Tuthmosis in his house?”
Nefertiti turned white and I nodded slowly.
“And did he plan to marry your sister to him?”
I was wise enough to know that if I didn’t lie now, Kiya would become the favorite in Memphis and my sister just another of the king’s many wives. Amunhotep leaned forward and his face looked dark. It would take only one lie to change eternity, to ensure that our names lived forever on the glorious monuments of Thebes. I glanced at Nefertiti, who was waiting to see what I would do. Then I stared into Amunhotep’s eyes and replied the way my father would have wanted me to, the way Nefertiti was hoping I would. “Vizier Ay always believed it would be you who would take the throne of Egypt. It was you whom my sister was intended for, even when you were a child.”
Amunhotep stared at me. “Destiny,” he whispered, sitting back in his chair. “It was destiny! Your father
“Yes,” she whispered, looking at me.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. I had lied for her. I had gone against my conscience to preserve our family.
The seventeen-year-old Pharaoh of Egypt stood up. “Ay will serve as Chief Vizier above all the land!” he
