The Heretic Queen

I lowered my head bashfully. “No, Your Highness.”

“Well, we have missed your smile in Malkata. My son, especially, I believe.” He glanced at Iset, who was sulking next to the queen. The pair of them looked like Tuya’s long-faced iwiw.

“It’s true,” Ramesses replied, meeting my gaze. I knew there was more he wanted to say.

“So tell me, Nefertari.” Henuttawy lowered her cup. “What was it that you and my nephew discussed? He must have told some very exciting tales to have taken all afternoon. Why don’t you share one with the table?”

I’m sure my face turned as red as the cinnamon burning in the braziers, and Ramesses said firmly, “We spent our time discussing how Nefertari will be returning to the palace.”

Henuttawy exchanged a look with the High Priest, Rahotep. “Really?Was her time at my sister’s temple so unbearable?”

“Of course not.” Ramesses’s voice became stern. “But she is of greater use here than in the Temple of Hathor.”

I looked across the table at Woserit. Was it true? Did he want me simply because he thought I was useful to him? But Woserit avoided my gaze.

“So you have decided not to become a priestess?” Pharaoh Seti confirmed.

I nodded. “My wish is to return to the palace of Malkata as soon as possible.”

Pharaoh Seti sat back. “Then perhaps you will be here for my announcement in the Audience Chamber tomorrow. In a few days, my court will be leaving for Avaris.”

I glanced at the queen, whose face was still drawn. “Permanently?”

Pharaoh Seti nodded and began to cough. “I shall make Avaris the capital of Lower Egypt,” he said, “and be closer to our northern border. I want to keep an eye on the kingdom of Hatti.”

In that moment I realized how difficult it must have been for him to watch his son lead the army into Nubia. He still wants to protect Egypt and watch over her enemies, even if he can’t join his son on the battlefield. When he continued to wheeze, Ramesses scowled.

“It will also be better for his health to be away from the heat and disease of a large city like Thebes. That is the most important reason.”

But Pharaoh Seti waved Ramesses’s concern away. “I will be taking a few of the viziers with me. And half of the army. We want to sail before the weather turns.” His kind eyes rested on me. “I hope you will be able to bid us farewell when we leave.”

Ramesses placed his open palm on my knee, and I smiled. “Of course, Your Highness.”

ON THE boat ride back to the temple, I told Woserit what Ramesses had said before we left his chamber. “We will pack tonight to be ready for the Audience Chamber in the morning,” she said, sounding pleased. “Shall I assume that you—”

“Of course they did!” Aloli cried over the splashing of the oars. “Look at her face. You did, didn’t you?”

I nodded, and Merit stifled a gasp. “This afternoon, my lady?”

“There is no point in leaving love up to the gods,” Woserit said. “He wants her now, and we had to put her in front of him so that he knows what he’ll be fighting for.”

I tried to make out Woserit’s expression in the dark, but there was only a single oil lamp in our boat. “Fight?”

“It will certainly be a fight. And not just between my brother and Queen Tuya. While we were on the dais, Aloli was sitting among the court. She heard their whispers.”

“About me? What did they say?”

Aloli nodded. “Things I shouldn’t repeat, my lady.”

“And you saw Henuttawy’s reaction tonight,” Woserit went on. “The High Priest’s response will be even worse if Ramesses asks to marry you. Especially if the gossip is true and Rahotep has been visiting my sister’s chamber. But my brother loves Ramesses and rarely denies him. I doubt he will now.”

“But Henuttawy can be persuasive,” I said.

“Not as persuasive as a man in love.”

“But what if he’s not in love with me? You heard what Ramesses said at the feast—that I’m more useful in the palace than in the temple.”

Woserit gave me a long look from beneath her cloak. “He will say what he must to convince his father. Pharaoh Seti may see you as a daughter, but thinking that you are a good choice for a wife is something different.”

I turned my face to the river, so that no one would see my hurt.

Aloli added gently, “You’ll know if he loves you by how long he’s willing to fight.”

“And if he gives up the fight, he’ll have decided I’m not worth it,” I said as the boat approached the quay.

“So make sure you are,” Woserit remarked.

We passed through the gates of Hathor’s temple, and Woserit sent an army of servants to help pack my belongings. In my chamber, Merit ordered hot water for my bath.

“At this hour?” one of the servants questioned.

“Of course, at this hour. Do you think I want it for the morning?” Merit chided.

When the hot water came, I lay back in the tub and tried to remember everything that had happened in Ramesses’s chamber. I wanted to go over it again and again so there was no detail I would ever forget. As Merit scrubbed at my back, I told her what had happened from beginning to end, and when I was finished, she let out a huge sigh and wept, “Oh, my lady, you are a woman now! And soon . . .” She sniffed. “Soon, you will belong to Ramesses.”

“Oh, mawat, don’t cry. I will never leave you. Not for a hundred Pharaohs.”

Merit blinked and raised her chin. “I’m crying tears of joy, not sorrow,” she promised. “It is what I always imagined. Queen Nefertari. Mother to the future King of Egypt.”

I lay in the warm water and sighed. “And we wouldn’t be afraid of anyone,” I said. “Not the High Priest or Henuttawy. Even Iset couldn’t touch us if I were queen.” I stood from the water and Merit handed me a heavy linen. I wrapped myself in its length and shivered. “But what if I can’t have children?” I worried.

“Who would say such a thing?” Merit hissed. “Why wouldn’t you be able to have children?” she demanded.

“I am small.”

“Many women are small.”

“Not as small as I am, and my mother died giving birth to me,” I whispered.

“You will have plenty of children,” Merit blustered. “As many as you wish.”

I put on a sheath. Outside the robing room I could hear the servants moving baskets and placing my belongings into the many chests I had returned with from Malkata. I passed through the bustle and stood on the balcony overlooking the groves. The sycamores were bent like old women in the moonlight, thin and twisted, and I wondered when I would see them again. I shivered in my linen, and when Merit saw me she gave a sharp cry.

“My lady! What are you doing outside?”

“This will be the last night I look out over this,” I said.

She marched onto the balcony and took my arm. “And it will be your last night in Egypt if you catch sick and die. Get yourself into bed. You must sleep for tomorrow!”

But I looked behind me to catch a last glimpse of Hathor’s groves. These will be my last moments of peace, I thought. From now on, my love for Ramesses will bring nothing but chaos.

“My lady is sleeping now,” Merit announced to the servants in the chamber. “We will finish in the morning.” When the servants disappeared, she shut the heavy doors and came to my bedside. “You are a woman,” she marveled again, looking down at me.

Tefer curled against my pillow, and I laughed. “I have been a woman for two years.”

“But a woman is not really a woman until . . . Perhaps in a few months we will be preparing the birthing chamber for you,” she said proudly.

When Merit left, I lay in my bed and looked up at the painted ceiling. I had probably seen that painting a hundred times, but do you think that I can recall it now? This is how memories are; what seems so clear and