The Heretic Queen

my side and her face was as bright as an oil lamp.

“Congratulations, Your Highness. It is a union sure to be blessed by Amun.”

“Thank you, Nurse. I was hoping Nefertari would join me in the Arena. Do you think that will be possible?”

“With a dozen things to do and arrange before tomorrow?” Merit cried.

Ramesses laughed, and I knew he hadn’t really expected her to say yes.

“There is the matter of a dress to arrange,” she said, “and a wig and malachite paint . . .”

“I believe she’s saying no,” I told Ramesses, and he put his arms around my waist.

“Then may I come to you tonight?” he asked quietly.

Courtiers were watching us and I forced myself not to look back at them. They will always be watching us, I reminded myself. I will never enjoy a private kiss. There will always be eyes upon me, and I must simply get used to it. That was the price for loving a Pharaoh. “Of course you can come to me.”

A hundred pairs of eyes followed my walk through the halls with Woserit and Merit, and one of them was Henuttawy’s. I smiled widely. If I had been a commoner about to marry some farmer’s son, the women of my house would never have allowed my husband to climb into my bed before he had carried me over the threshold of his home. But Ramesses was Pharaoh. He could do as he pleased. By coming to my room before our wedding, he was telling the court that a single night couldn’t be wasted in trying to create an heir with me.

CHAPTER TEN

A PHARAOH’S MARRIAGE BEGINS ON THE WATER

  IN THE GREAT Hall that evening, the whole court appeared to see the worm that had turned into a butterfly. Everyone was eager to see the niece of the Heretic Queen, whom Ramesses was going to take to wife.

At the long, polished table on the dais, a servant led me to my seat between Ramesses and Woserit, while Iset had been placed at the side of Queen Tuya. I felt sorry for Iset, who didn’t have the sense to laugh and pretend to be joyful. Though she should have felt triumphant in knowing that she was carrying Ramesses’s first child, her face was as sour as a tamarind. I wondered if it was because he had not turned out to be the husband she’d imagined. I knew she enjoyed the exquisite jewels and fur-lined cloaks, but what did she and Ramesses have in common? But if Iset appeared dark and glowering, then across from her, Henuttawy was at her best. The viziers were laughing at her jokes, and when she saw me, she announced brightly to the table, “The butterfly emerges.”

But Ramesses heard the edge in her voice. “She is like a butterfly,” he said. “Hidden away for a year, and emerging more beautiful and talented than ever.”

“When she told me she was not going to become a priestess of Hathor, I was worried she would not find a place in Thebes.” Woserit turned to her sister. “But it seems that she has found a place on the highest step of all.”

Henuttawy’s smile vanished, and Rahotep’s face looked immensely pained.

“Come,” Woserit said cheerfully, “let us raise our cups.” She lifted her wine and the rest of the table did the same. “To the princess Nefertari,” she said.

“To the princess,” Vizier Anemro repeated, though I wondered which princess he meant.

“And let us all hope that the curse of the Heretic King does not run in her veins.”

Henuttawy had gone too far. Pharaoh Seti clenched his cup in his hand. “Nefertari is no more of a heretic than you are. I trust that she will make good decisions in the Audience Chamber. She may not be popular yet, but she’s certainly no fool.”

Everyone at the table knew who he meant, but no one dared to look in Iset’s direction.

Queen Tuya shook her head, and Ramesses added indignantly, “She’s also my wife.” But Pharaoh Seti remained silent, and soon steaming bowls of roasted duck were brought from the kitchens.

Ramesses turned to me. “I’m sorry,” he said softly.

I smiled the way Woserit had taught me to smile in the face of disappointment. “I believe the court is waiting for your blessing.”

Ramesses looked to his father, who nodded, then stood from his throne while the room fell silent. “We dedicate this feast to Pharaoh Seti the Great, beloved of Amun and Reconquerer of a dozen lands.” A loud cheer went up in the hall and Ramesses proclaimed, “May the gods watch over your journey to Avaris, and may they watch over the joyous union tomorrow that shall precede it.”

The court’s cheers reverberated beneath the columns, because it would have been foolish to do otherwise. But I wondered how many of them were like the High Priest of Amun, who had fathers and grandfathers murdered by Akhenaten and Nefertiti.

As the cheers still echoed, Seti leaned over and whispered to me, “I am allowing you to put yourself in danger at this court. But there is no one else in the kingdom of Egypt I would rather see on the throne with my son than you. . . . Did you know that if Pili was alive, this would have been the year of her marriage as well? You would have been like two sisters in your bridal boats.” He patted my hand, and I saw in that moment why his care for me had always been so tender.

I took my free hand and placed it over Pharaoh’s. “Thank you,” I told him. “I will try never to disappoint you.”

He smiled, but not at me. His look was far away, and only later would I understand how a son’s marriage can be both happy and sad. Of course, a father is hopeful for all of the events in the future, but he is also reminded of the family members who are not there to celebrate with him. And when a son begins producing heirs, spinning Khnum’s potter wheel of creation faster and faster, he must begin to imagine his own potter’s wheel slowing down. But I was too young to understand this then.

IN THE tiled hall outside my chamber, Asha was waiting. His arms were folded over his chest, and in the light of the torches, I searched his face to see if he was angry. As soon as he saw us, he straightened, and Woserit was discreet enough to join Merit inside my room.

“Asha,” I said cautiously. “I’m sorry I missed you in the Great Hall tonight.”

“You were surrounded by courtiers. I’ll have to grow used to that now.” I felt as though a heavy stone had been lifted from my chest, and when he stepped forward to embrace me, I did the same. “I’m very happy for you,” he said.

“But you told me—”

He nodded. “That was before I knew how much Ramesses needed you.”

I flinched at the word. Did he need me, or love me?

“But I still think you’ve chosen a dangerous road. Tomorrow, Pharaoh wants you to meet the people. He wants Ramesses to see their reaction before he makes a choice about Chief Wife. There are many other women in the harem.”

“If you have come here to insult me—”

Asha grabbed my arm. “Nefertari, I’m only trying to tell you the truth. Pharaoh Seti and Ramesses live their lives sheltered inside this palace. I see the people on the streets. I hear what they say, and you need to be careful tomorrow.”

I saw the concern in his eyes and nodded. “We will take guards,” I assured him.

“Make sure there are enough. At least two dozen, no matter what Ramesses says.”

“Do you think they’ll be that angry?” I whispered.

“I don’t know. There are many people who still remember . . .” But he didn’t finish. “This will be the fourth year that the Nile has been low, and there’s talk that in the poorer sections of Thebes people are already starving. If the river doesn’t flood its banks by the end of this month, famine will spread, and the people will want someone to blame.”

I felt the color drain from my face. “Not me?”

“Just be prepared.”