The Heretic Queen

grotesque hyena’s grin.

Ramesses stood from his throne. “Father,” he said formally, “in two days you will make the journey from the palace of Malkata to your father’s palace of Pi-Ramesses. But before you leave, I would like your permission to marry the princess Nefertari.”

Whispered murmurs rippled through the court, and I imagined Henuttawy’s beautiful face frozen like a funerary mask. I supposed that Ramesses glanced at her when he said, “I have made Iset a princess and wife to me. Although I love her, I love Nefertari as well.” He argued, “Princess Nefertari is well studied. She can speak eight languages and will be a valuable asset in this chamber. She is—”

“The niece of a Heretic King?” Henuttawy offered.

Ramesses replied with heat, “That was many years ago.”

“Not so many that the people don’t remember.” The Vizier Nebamun stepped forward and blocked my view of Henuttawy. “Your Highnesses, love alone does not make a good wife.”

“Which is why we are fortunate that Nefertari is also wise enough to serve in this chamber,” Ramesses said.

Courtiers began talking over one another, and Pharaoh Seti raised his crook and struck it twice on the base of the dais. “Nebamun and Henuttawy, we have heard what you both have to say. Vizier Anemro?”

Vizier Anemro stood from a table at the base of the dais, and I could hear him address Pharaoh Seti politely before saying, “I agree with the High Priestess of Isis. Looking to the future, to make the princess Nefertari Chief Wife would be dangerous to His Highness’s reign.”

Beneath the dais, Rahotep remained silent. Ramesses asked sternly, “Vizier Paser?”

Paser stood, and his was the first voice raised in my defense. “I do not see any harm or danger in making Princess Nefertari queen.”

“Nor I,” Woserit said firmly.

The High Priest of Amun finally spoke. “Even though her family murdered my father and abolished Egypt’s gods?” he spat. “Has that already been forgotten? The blood of heretics runs through her veins!”

Pharaoh Seti struck his crook on the dais and declared, “Princess Nefertari is a daughter to me. I do not care what blood runs in her veins.”

“But the people will,” Henuttawy snapped. She understood that Seti was going to allow Ramesses to wed and added quickly, “At least wait until after the marriage to choose a Chief Wife.” I could see her face now. She turned to Ramesses. “Wait to see how the people will react. For the sake of peace throughout your long reign, wait until the ceremony is finished.”

“I fear a rebellion,” Rahotep warned.

“Wait,” Henuttawy suggested. “Then, if you still want to make her queen over Iset—”

“I wouldn’t call it over Iset,” Ramesses said quickly.

“Instead of Iset,” Henuttawy corrected, coarsely. “Then there will be two feasts to celebrate.”

Pharaoh Seti sighed. “The decision of Chief Wife will wait. But what does Nefertari have to say about this? I hope you haven’t pressured her into marriage.”

“Bring her in,” Ramesses answered. “She can tell you herself.”

I looked at Merit, who rushed to straighten my wig. When the herald discovered the open door, he glanced at the guards, then at us. We both stood quickly.

“You are wanted in the Audience Chamber,” he said.

We followed him through the great doors of carved bronze, and I was shocked by how large the room really was once I was inside of it. Not even Paser’s careful model had captured the true grandeur of the hall. This is where my mother sat with Nefertiti when she was my age, I realized, and where she ruled alongside Pharaoh Horemheb. I studied the long expanse of polished tiles and the vaulted roof of gold. The limestone columns depicted scenes of previous kings in their triumphs. Ebony chairs with ivory inlay were clustered around Senet boards throughout the chamber. I imagined that courtiers usually filled those seats, laughing together and ready to entertain Pharaoh whenever he grew bored.

Henuttawy and Woserit watched our entrance, and as we reached the thrones, the heated whispers between the viziers increased. Courtiers gathered like thick clusters of grapes around the dais while we held out our arms in obeisance and bowed. When I arose, Ramesses met my gaze.

“Princess Nefertari.” Pharaoh Seti smiled. “You have returned to Malkata to be married to Ramesses. But tell me.” He leaned forward. “Is this what you wish?”

I closed my eyes briefly and nodded. “More than anything,” I whispered.

“And you are certain of this? My son can be very persuasive. If you’re afraid to hurt his feelings, he’ll recover.”

“There is nothing for him to recover from except my excessive love,” I said.

“Very pretty.” Henuttawy clapped. “If the Passion Plays of Osiris are missing an actress we will know who to send them.”

“It’s not an act,” I said simply, and something in my voice prompted Pharaoh Seti to sit back. He regarded me for a moment, and I hoped he could see the earnestness in my stare.

“Let them be wed,” Seti pronounced with a wave, and I exhaled.

Ramesses stepped down from the dais and took my hand firmly. It was real. We were going to be married.

“Think of what the people will say,” Henuttawy shrieked. “Brother, think of what you are doing!”

“There will not be a coronation. Yet,” he conceded. “Simply a marriage.”

From behind the table, Woserit asked lightly, “What is it that you have against this princess, Henuttawy?”

Henuttawy replied with terrifying sweetness. “I suppose it’s that she’s so ambitious and clever,” she said. “Clever Nefertari, who began life as a worm and emerged as a butterfly.”

“Enough!” Pharaoh Seti warned. He looked to the High Priest. “I wish to see them joined in marriage before my court leaves for Avaris. Arrange a royal wedding.”

The hyena stepped forward, and his bald head reflected the late afternoon light. “Within two days?” he questioned. “Perhaps it would be better if His Highness waited until the auspicious month of Pharmuthi.”

When Iset will give birth, I thought.

“We will marry tomorrow,” Ramesses swore. “If it’s not possible to ready the Temple of Amun, I’m sure that Hathor or Isis can be readied.”

Rahotep’s face lost some of its color. “Amun’s temple can be ready, Your Highness.”

Henuttawy and the other viziers made to speak, but Pharaoh Seti stood and pounded his crook on the dais. “The proclamation will read as such: Tomorrow, there shall be a wedding between Pharaoh Ramesses and Princess Nefertari.”

For the first time, Queen Tuya spoke. “I don’t understand why it has to be so soon.”

“Because if not tomorrow, then when?” Seti asked. “How do you know when the gods will bring us back to Thebes? Or do you propose to miss our son’s Marriage Feast?”

Tuya’s hand tightened around her iwiw’s leash. “I am sure he will have many Feasts of Marriage we will miss.”

“Perhaps. But none to a princess of Egypt.”

Queen Tuya settled unhappily back into her throne, and when her hand rested lightly on Adjo’s head, the iwiw wagged his tail contentedly.

“So will she greet the people?” Henuttawy demanded. “If she’s going to be queen, she should walk through Thebes and meet her subjects.”

Woserit glanced at her brother. “Nefertari doesn’t need to go among them yet.”

“Why not?” Pharaoh Seti frowned. “Let them become accustomed to seeing her with Ramesses.”

I was too full of my own joy to see then what Henuttawy had done.

Court business being concluded, we left the chamber and Ramesses took me in his arms. “By tomorrow, you will be at my side in the Audience Chamber, and there’s no one who will dare to say a word against you.”

And of course, because I was naive and hopeful, I allowed myself to believe him—even though I knew what the courtiers thought. They believed I had my aunt’s blood and that I’d be the new Heretic Queen. Merit came to