“But how will it stay?”
“With beeswax and resin.”
She tied my long hair into a knot and placed the wig on my head with expert care. The effect was surprisingly becoming. The braids framed my face and green beads brought out the color of my eyes; Ipu must have chosen the color for me, for I saw that Nefertiti’s beads were silver. I sat still while my body servant applied a cream across my breasts, then delicately removed the lid from a jar. She poured a handful of glittering fragments into the palm of her hand and then blew softly, and I was covered in gold dust. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and gasped. I was pretty.
Then Nefertiti stood.
There was no sign of the boat journey we had taken from Akhmim. She was wide awake with nervousness for this night, and she shimmered with the brilliance of the sun. Her wig came below her shoulders and behind her ears, emphasizing her cheekbones and slender neck. Every strand of hair played music when the beads came together, and I thought there wasn’t a man in any kingdom who could refuse her. Her entire body glittered with gold, even her toes.
The two body servants stepped back. “She’s magnificent.”
They switched places to inspect each other’s work, and Merit hummed approval as she looked into my face. “Green eyes,” she said. “I have never seen eyes this green before.”
“I rimmed them in malachite,” Ipu replied, proud of her work.
“It’s beautiful.”
I sat straighter and my sister cleared her throat, interrupting my moment.
“My sandals,” she announced.
Merit fetched sandals encrusted with gold, then Nefertiti turned to me.
“Tonight I meet the Prince of Egypt,” she said. She held out her arms and her bangles tinkled at her wrists. “How do I look?”
“Like Isis,” I said honestly.
We were led to the Great Hall at sunset and could hear the festivities from several courtyards away. As each guest arrived, they were announced, and as we waited in line, Nefertiti squeezed my arm. “Is Father in there yet?” she asked, thinking that because I was tall I could see over the heads of a dozen people.
“I can’t tell.”
“Stand on your toes,” she instructed.
I still couldn’t see. “Don’t worry. Everyone will see your entrance,” I promised.
We moved up several places in line, and now I could see that the Elder and Queen Tiye were both within. The prince, too, was there. Men kept turning in line to look at my sister, and I realized that my father had chosen correctly when instructing us to arrive after everyone else.
The line kept moving, and soon the entire hall was spread before us. Of all the rooms I had yet seen in Malkata, it was easily the widest and most beautiful. The herald cleared his throat and stretched out his arm. “The Lady Nefertiti,” he announced grandly, “daughter of Ay, Vizier of Egypt and Overseer of the King’s Great Works.”
Nefertiti took a step forward and I heard conversation in the Great Hall falter.
“The Lady Mutnodjmet, sister of Nefertiti, daughter of Ay, Vizier of Egypt and Overseer of the King’s Great Works,” the herald continued.
Now I stepped forward, and I watched as the guests turned to see Ay’s two daughters, fresh from the tiny city of Akhmim.
Women stared as we walked to the dais. Our father stood to greet us from behind a long table, and we were brought before the three Horus thrones of Egypt, bowing with our arms outstretched. The Elder sat forward on his chair, and I could see that his sandals were carved of wood and that the bottoms were painted with images of his enemies. He stared at Nefertiti’s round hennaed breasts, though there were enough pairs in the Great Hall to keep him occupied for the entire night.
“Rise,” the queen commanded.
As we did so, Prince Amunhotep’s gaze met my sister’s. Nefertiti smiled back, and I noticed that next to him Kiya was watching us closely. Then, because Nefertiti was not yet queen, we were taken to a table directly beneath the dais where the viziers ate and where my father was sitting.
Nefertiti hissed through her perfect smile, “It’s an insult, to have to sit beneath her.”
My father stroked my sister’s golden arm. “In a few days, she will be sitting here, and you will be Queen of Egypt.”
The men at our table talked over each other to ask Nefertiti about her journey to Thebes, if the weather had been good, whether the ship had stopped at any cities along the way. I watched Amunhotep, and his eyes never left my sister’s face. She must have known this, because she laughed and flirted, tossing her long neck back when a handsome son of another vizier approached her and asked about her time in Akhmim. I saw Kiya try to speak with the prince, to tear her husband’s gaze away from my sister, but Amunhotep would not be distracted. I wondered what he thought of his future wife, and I studied the way Nefertiti held men in her power. She spoke softly, so they had to bend closer to hear, and she gave her smiles sparingly, so that when she laughed a man felt like he had been bathed in her light.
When the food was served and we began to eat, I didn’t know where to look first. The dais, where the Elder leered at naked women whose limber bodies bent backward in dance, or the prince, who looked sharp and controlled, a different man from the one I remembered in the tombs. I looked at Panahesi across the table. The vizier wore the signet ring of the king, and he was tall like my father. But in all other ways they were opposites. Where my father had blue eyes, Panahesi’s were black. Where my father had the high cheekbones Nefertiti had inherited, Panahesi’s face was longer and fuller. Gold rings shone on each of his fingers, whereas my father rarely wore his jewels. I studied our family’s rival until the musicians struck up a tune and everyone left the tables to dance, women in one circle, men in another. My father took my mother’s hand to lead her across the hall, and Kiya watched with critical eyes as Nefertiti got up to join the women.
“Aren’t you coming?” Nefertiti asked.
“Of course not!” I stared at the throngs of pretty courtiers’ daughters, all of whom had been raised in Thebes, all of whom would know the court dances. “I don’t know any of the moves. How will you do it?”
She shrugged. “I’ll watch and learn.”
Perhaps Merit had given her instructions in private, for I was amazed to see my sister leap and spin in time with the others, a vision of lapis lazuli and gold. There were only a few women sitting, and I noticed with unease that I wasn’t alone at our table. Panahesi remained as well. I glanced at him, the way his long fingers were templed under his clipped black beard, the only vizier at court who let his hair grow long. Then he caught me looking at him and said, “This must be very exciting for you. A young girl from Akhmim, coming to the palace with all its feasting and gold. So why aren’t you dancing?”
I shifted in my seat. “I don’t know the dances,” I admitted.
He raised his brows. “Yet your sister seems so natural,” he pointed out, and we be both looked at Nefertiti, who danced as if we’d been attending court functions all our lives. Panahesi looked from her to me and smiled. “You must be half sisters.”
I hoped Ipu’s rouge hid my mortification, and bit my tongue so I wouldn’t reply with something sharp.
“So tell me,” Panahesi went on. “With a sister in the king’s harem, who will you marry?”
My ire rose. “I am only thirteen.”
“Of course, a little girl still.” His eyes traveled to my chest, and suddenly Nefertiti was beside me. The music had ended.
“Yes, but better a blossoming woman than a wilted old man.” Her eyes traveled meaningfully to Panahesi’s kilt. Then our father reappeared, taking his seat at the table.
Panahesi pushed out his chair. “Your children are very charming,” he snapped. “I am sure the prince will come to love them dearly.” He swept away, his white cloak trailing at his heels, and my father demanded, “What happened?”
