Nefertiti

argue the point, as if he wouldn’t be surprised if Amunhotep should die. I felt a chill go up my spine and settle as a coolness on my back, despite the warm night. Guests were taking their seats, and laughter echoed beneath the ceiling of the Great Hall. The Birth Feast would last all night, but I might not get a chance to speak with the general again. I hesitated. “I thought you would stay in Thebes and live a quieter life than this.”

“Oh, it’s not quiet in Thebes. Anywhere there’s a palace it’s never quiet. But someday I hope to find someone who might share a quiet life with me. Away from Thebes or Memphis or any city with a royal road.”

We both looked into the hall and I nodded, understanding that desire.

“But now that the temple is finished, the soldiers wonder what will happen next. Pharaoh is afraid of the army. He won’t send us to war even though the Hittites encroach on our territory with every season that passes and Egypt offers no resistance. With Panahesi serving Aten and Amunhotep building temples to glorify Aten’s reign, your father ascends the throne of Egypt. Perhaps not literally, but in every other way he is Pharaoh, miw-sher. Now is the time to decide what you want in this life. Your name etched in sandstone for eternity or happiness?”

“And how do you know I’m not happy here?”

“Because you’re standing in a corner speaking with me while your sister sits on the Horus throne and your father smoothes her way. If you were content, you’d be there.” He indicated the table for the royal family, presided over by my mother and father, the two of them surrounded by bald-headed men in fine linen. “So where does that leave you, little cat?”

“As the handmaiden to Nefertiti,” I said sharply.

“You could always change that.” Nakhtmin regarded me with interest, then added meaningfully, “By marrying someone.”

“Mutny, would you find me my robe?”

I looked up from my Senet game but remained in my chair. “Where’s Merit? Can’t she get you a robe?”

Nefertiti watched me with her large painted eyes from where the milk nurse was feeding Meritaten. Sitting next to the woman, she stroked the princess’s downy hair. “I can’t leave Meritaten. Won’t you get it? It’s just in the other room.”

“Go ahead, Mutny,” my mother said. “She’s busy.”

“She’s always busy!”

My mother gave me a look that told me simply to do it, and I returned with my sister’s robe. I paused over Meritaten’s tiny face. She had her mother’s coloring, the light hue of sand, but her eyes were olive, like Amunhotep’s. It was impossible to tell whether she would have her mother’s jaw or her father’s height. But her nose was slender and long like Nefertiti’s. “She looks like you,” I said, and my sister smiled.

My mother’s shoulders tensed. “Did you hear that?” she asked quickly, tearing her gaze from the Senet board.

We all froze, even the milk nurse with Meritaten in her arms. I could hear what she was referring to. It was the sound of wailing women and temple bells.

Nefertiti rose up. “What is it?”

Then the door to the chamber swung open and Amunhotep’s grin was so wide that we knew. My mother covered her mouth with her hand.

“He’s gone to Osiris,” Nefertiti whispered.

Amunhotep embraced her. “The Elder is dead. I am Pharaoh of Egypt!”

My father entered the room with Panahesi on his heels. In her joy, Nefertiti didn’t even notice that men were in her birthing chamber. My father bowed. “Shall we prepare for the move to Thebes, Your Highness?”

“There will be no move to Thebes,” Amunhotep announced. “We will begin building the city of Amarna at once.”

There was a sudden silence in the birthing chamber.

“You will move the capital of Thebes?” my father asked.

Amunhotep exulted, “For the glory of Aten.”

My father glared at Nefertiti, who wouldn’t meet his gaze.

Chapter Fifteen

THEBES

1349 BCE

fifteenth of Thoth

AMUNHOTEP PACED. “MY mother is in the Audience Chamber. She is wearing the Queen of Egypt’s crown. It is yours now. Shall I take it for you?”

We sat in a circle in the richest chamber of Malkata: my mother, my father, Ipu, and I. We had sailed to Thebes for Pharaoh’s burial, and now the Elder’s room belonged to Amunhotep IV. We watched while Merit painted Nefertiti’s eyes. She was beyond us now. More powerful than Tiye. More powerful than our father even. When the Elder had been alive, there had always been the possibility of appealing to him for help if there was trouble. Now, there was only Nefertiti.

“Let her keep the crown,” my sister ruled. “I will wear a crown that no Queen of Egypt has ever worn. Something I have created.” She looked over at Thutmose, who went wherever we did.

But Amunhotep wasn’t satisfied. “We should take the crown,” he insisted cruelly. “She could be dangerous to us.”

My father’s gaze found Nefertiti’s, who stood up at once. “It’s not necessary,” she replied.

“She was my father’s wife!” Amunhotep rejoined, his voice full of menace.

“And she is my father’s sister. He will watch her for you.”

Amunhotep studied my father, then shrugged, as if his mother was a matter he was willing to let go. “I want to move from this city as soon as we can find a place to build.”

“We will,” Nefertiti promised, going to him and caressing his cheek. “But we must put things in order.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “We must rid ourselves of the Amun priests before they can try assassination—”

“Your Highness,” my father interrupted.

“I won’t have them disturbing my sleep!” he raged. “I dream about them at night. They’re in my dreams. But I will send the priests to the quarries.”

I gasped, and even Nefertiti froze at the suggestion. These were men who had never toiled a day in their lives, representatives of Amun who spent their time praying. “Perhaps we should just send them away,” she offered.

“So they can plot somewhere else?” Amunhotep demanded. “No. I will send them all to the quarries.”

“But they will die,” I blurted before I could stop myself.

Amunhotep turned his dark gaze on me. “Very good.”

“And what about the ones who will bow to Aten? They can be saved,” Nefertiti implored.

Amunhotep faltered. “We will offer them the chance. But those who refuse will be shackled and sentenced.” He left the room, shouting at his guards to keep seven paces back.

“The Elder has not been a month in his tomb and you are planning the destruction of Thebes?” my father asked furiously. “The people will see that this is against the laws of Ma’at. They will never forget this.”

“Then we will give them something else to remember,” Nefertiti swore. Her eyes were painted and around her throat was the golden symbol of life. “Bring me my crown.” Thutmose disappeared. Then Nefertiti took off her wig and those of us in the room let out a cry.

“What have you done?” my mother exclaimed.

Nefertiti had shaven off her hair. The beautiful black tresses that had framed her face were gone. “I had to