gossiping than translating cuneiform. “Do you think that Ramesses will make her Chief Wife?”
“Let us hope our new Pharaoh has more sense than that.” In the cool hours of morning, she stiffened my wig with beeswax and resin, then replaced the beads that had broken in storage. She spent a great deal of time with my kohl, mixing it with palm oil until it was perfectly smooth, then applying it to my eyelids with the thinnest brush I had ever seen. When she turned me around to face the mirror, I inhaled. For the very first time, I looked older than my thirteen years. My face was too small for the wide sweeps of kohl that women like Iset and Henuttawy used, but the fine black lines Merit had extended from the inside of my eyelids to my temples were incredibly flattering. The carnelian beads she’d braided into my wig matched the large carnelian stones of my scarab belt. And the pinch of precious gold dust that she had blown onto the wet kohl highlighted the filigree of my sandals.
I turned to face Merit, and she fastened my mother’s jewels around my neck, then let the hair of my wig fall into place.
“You are as beautiful as Isis,” she murmured. “But only if you sit like a lady. There will be no running around with Pharaoh Ramesses today. This is a marriage, and princes from Babylon to Punt will bear witness if you are acting like a child.”
I nodded firmly. “There will be no running.”
Merit scrutinized me. “No matter what Pharaoh wants. He is King of Egypt now and must behave like one.”
I imagined Iset in my chamber, and all of the things she would do with Ramesses under the painting of my mother come nightfall. “I promise.”
Merit led our path through the crowded halls of the palace. Outside, beyond the linen pavilion, hundreds of courtiers had gathered near the quay where the ships would set sail for the Temple of Amun. Neither Ramesses nor Iset had arrived, and Merit raised a sunshade above our heads to protect us from the rising heat. I couldn’t see any of the students from the edduba, but Asha spotted me from across the courtyard and called out, startled, “Nefer!”
“Remember what I told you,” Merit said severely.
As Asha approached me, his eyes widened. He took in my wide, carnelian belt and the gold that glittered above my eyes. “You’re
“
“You mean your chamber.” Asha glanced at Merit, who pretended not to be listening. “Yes. And she did it out of spite.” Asha lowered his voice. “She may be all sweetness and perfume with Ramesses, but we know the truth. I can tell him—”
“No,” I said at once. “He’ll think that you’re being petty and jealous.”
Trumpets echoed from the quayside, and Iset emerged from the palace, answering their call. I knew that once she reached the quay, she would sail alone to the Temple of Amun on the eastern bank. Ramesses would ride in a vessel behind her, and the court would follow them in boats decorated with silver pennants and gold. Once the High Priest anointed Iset a princess, she would return with Ramesses in his boat, wearing his family ring to signify their union. Then Ramesses would carry her onto the quay and over the threshold of the palace they would come to rule. They would only emerge later that night for the feast. It was his carrying her across the threshold of Malkata that would bind their marriage. Nothing the priests did in the temple could make them married in the eyes of Amun unless he chose to carry her inside, and for a wild moment I imagined that he might refuse. He might realize that Iset was not the rose she pretended to be, but a tangle of thorns, and he would change his mind.
But, of course, this did not happen. Instead, we sailed in a long flotilla of boats down the river, and all along the shore the people began chanting Iset’s name. The women raised ivory clappers above their heads, and those who couldn’t afford such luxuries used their hands as they shouted for their queen. It was as though a goddess had descended to earth. Children floated lotus blossoms on the water, and little girls who caught sight of her face wept with excited joy. When we reached the temple, Ramesses took Iset as his wife, and they returned to the cheers of a thousand guests. Then he took her up in his arms, and they disappeared together into the palace.
The festivity was so joyous that all formality was dismissed, and Asha seized the chance to join me at the viziers’ table. “So Iset is a princess now,” he said. He looked down the length of the pavilion to the closed double doors of the palace. “At least you won’t have to see her anymore. She’ll spend all of her time in the Audience Chamber.”
“Yes. With Ramesses,” I pointed out.
But Asha shook his head. “No. Ramesses will be with me. There is going to be war with the Hittites.”
I put down my cup of wine. “What do you mean?”
“The city of Kadesh has belonged to Egypt since the time of Thutmose. It was the Heretic King who allowed the Hittites to take Kadesh, and all of the port cities that made Egypt wealthy are enriching Hatti now. Pharaoh Seti won’t stand for it anymore. He has reconquered all of the lands that the Heretic lost, and all that remains to be retaken is Kadesh.”
“I know this,” I said, impatient. “I’ve studied it all with Paser. But he never said Egypt was preparing for war
Asha nodded. “Probably by Phaophi.”
“But what if Ramesses is killed? Or if you come back maimed? Asha, you’ve seen the soldiers—”
“That won’t happen to us. It’s our first battle. We’ll be well protected.”
“Pharaoh Tutankhamun was well protected, and it didn’t stop his chariot from overturning. He died from that broken leg!”
Asha put his arm around my shoulders. “A king is expected to lead his men into battle. It’s too bad you weren’t born a man, Nefer. You might have come with us. But we’ll come back,” he promised easily. “And you’ll see. Nothing will change.”
I smiled, and hoped it would be so. But in the blur of events, I was learning how poorly hope alone would serve me.
THAT EVENING, Merit brought me a stick of wax. She held the tip to the flame of the candle, then dripped it slowly onto the papyrus. I waited until the droplets had hardened before pressing my signet ring into the wax. Then I handed the letter to Merit.
“Are you sure you want to send this, my lady? Perhaps you need a few days to think?”
I shook my head. “No, I am certain.”
CHAPTER FOUR
THE WAYS OF HATHOR
ON MY FOURTEENTH Naming Day, I went to the edduba as usual. I slipped off my sandals in front of the door, but inside, Paser was not sitting at his table. For the first time since he had been my tutor, Paser was absent. On the reed mats, the students were taking full advantage, chattering among themselves.
“Nefertari!” Baki exclaimed. “Have you heard?”
I set out my reed pen and bottle of ink deliberately. “What?”
“Paser is no longer going to be our tutor. He is vizier to Pharaoh Ramesses now.”
I scrambled from my reed mat. “When did this happen?”
“Yesterday. My father told me this morning.” Then he smiled wide enough that I could see his crooked teeth. “And we are to get a new tutor!”
A female shape appeared in the doorway. The students leaped to their feet, and unlike Henuttawy’s entrance, they bowed deeply as Woserit approached, dressed in the long blue robes of Hathor. Her earrings and bracelets and belt were all of lapis, and the crown on her head was crested with small horns.
“Nefertari,” she said. “It’s time.”
The students all looked at me for an explanation, and when the words stuck in my mouth, Woserit explained. “Your new tutor is coming. But Princess Nefertari’s time with you is over. She will be joining me to learn the rites of our temple. She will become a priestess of Hathor.”
A collective gasp arose in the room, but Woserit gave me a nod that meant I should smile and take my leave,
