“When he returns,” Amenhotep interrupted with a wave of his hand, “I will have him choose between the throne and his religion.”
My sadness grew. The morning after I met with the king and queen, Tiye woke me up and whispered, “The king is dead, Queen Nefertiti.”
My heart was heavy with grief. I wondered if before he died King Amenhotep III had carried out his threat. Would Tiye sacrifice her beloved son? One time, when she was overseeing the mummification of her husband, she called me and said, “I want you to know that the priests requested that I appoint Smenkhkare or Tutankhamun king and that I should be regent.”
I feared what Tiye would say next. “Your decision shall be the wisest, and I will embrace it regardless,” I replied.
“Are you speaking the truth?” she asked.
“What else do I have but the truth?” I replied desperately.
“I denied them their request. My love for my son was greater than my wisdom.”
I felt as though I had just begun to breathe. I was speechless.
“Are you happy?”
“Yes, my Queen,” I replied earnestly. “I abhor lying.”
“Do you promise me to defend the traditions?”
“I cannot promise that.”
“You deserve to be punished,” she said. “But I also admire you. You and Akhenaten have chosen your path, so walk it. It is what the gods charted.”
I returned to my quarters elated. I showered Meretaten with kisses. Then my beloved returned from his journey. I hurried to him and threw my arms around him.
“At last your love has come, Nefertiti,” he said calmly.
I was startled and said, “I loved you even before I laid eyes on you.”
“But only now, you love me as your husband.” I was stunned by his ability to discern the secrets of the heart.
After the burial of Amenhotep III, Akhenaten came to me with tearful eyes. “Death frightens me,” he said. “I did not love my father as I should have.” We ascended the throne surrounded by hostility and apprehension. Akhenaten called upon his men to join his religion. They declared their faith willingly. It never occurred to me to doubt their faith, until much later when they all abandoned him to save themselves. Except for Meri-Ra, the high priest of the One God. I believe that Akhenaten knew that they were not sincere. But he believed that love was the cure for all ills. He thought that in time their faith would grow deeper with love, and that they would believe in him. He waited patiently for their faith, as he had once waited for my love. But they were not deserving. Some of them even harbored a secret desire to claim the throne after him-Haremhab, and even my father, Ay. Do not think that my bitterness has led me to fabricate this. I do not rely on mere impressions either. I learned these facts from conversations I had with the men during the last days of Akhetaten. I was pleased that the priests decided to entrust the throne to Tutankhamun instead. I believe the others still dwell on their old dream.
Despite the hostility that surrounded us when we first took the throne, Akhenaten and I were extremely happy. Meretaten was beginning to crawl, and a new life was growing inside me. Akhenaten had no other partner but me. He inherited his father's harem, with the beautiful Mitannian woman, but he abstained from visiting it. Then Queen Tiye came and I expected no good from her visit.
“Akhenaten,” she started, close enough that I could hear her, “you are king now. You must not neglect your harem.”
“I have but one love, just as I have one God,” he laughed.
“But you must be fair. Do not forget that Tadukhipa is in your harem. She deserves to be treated well, if only for her father Tushratta's sake.” Tiye glanced at me and noticed my irritation. She continued, “Nefertiti has proven to be a wise queen. Perhaps she will agree with me about your harem.”
I remained silent, trying not to reveal that I was upset. Tiye continued to talk about the duties of a queen.
I became curious about the harem, particularly Tadukhipa. I visited them, saying merely that I wanted to make their acquaintance. Tadukhipa was indeed beautiful, but my self-confidence was not shaken. We exchanged a few words, and parted enemies.
The next day, as I sat with my husband in the palace garden, I found myself asking him, “What do you intend to do about the harem?”
“I do not want it,” he replied simply.
“But the queen mother does not heed your desires,” I complained.
“My mother loves tradition.”
“But you do not believe in tradition.”
“You're quite right, my beloved,” he laughed.
I suppose it was around that time that I met with the high priest of Amun.
“My Queen,” the high priest started, “perhaps you know what I have come for.”
“I am listening, High Priest,” I replied without enthusiasm.
“Let the king worship whichever god he pleases. But all the deities, Amun in particular, have the right to be worshiped,” he pleaded.
“We are not trying to harm your god.”
“I am hoping that when the time comes you will support us.”
“I can only promise what I know I can give.”
“Your father and I are old friends. And I know that nothing can spoil our friendship.”
“I am glad to hear that.”
When he left I knew I had made an eternal enemy. Akhenaten devoted his time to the religion. He called for love, abolished punishment, and relieved the poor of their dues. People began to believe that it was a new era of love and benevolence. I gave birth to my second daughter, Meketaten. Once more I was disappointed and remembered all that had been said about the curse of the priests. But Akhenaten loved his daughters. “The crown prince will come when it is his time,” he said to comfort me. We built a temple for the One God in Thebes and went to visit it for the first time. The priests had gathered a mob of their followers and they stood outside the temple calling the name of Amun. The king was dismayed. He spent the night on the terrace of our room, addressing Thebes: “O city of evil, home of the lustful god, and merciless priests, O Thebes, I will never dwell in you.” The voice of God told him to build a new city. Bek the sculptor selected eighty thousand men and started work on the city of the Sole Creator. Meanwhile, we continued to live in Thebes, happy inside our palace, yet surrounded on all sides by malice. I bore two more girls, Ankhesenpaaten and Nefernaten. Then we moved to the new city. Smenkhkare and Tutankhamun came with us, but Tiye decided to remain in Thebes to preserve the last tie between the throne and the priests of Amun.
When we reached Akhetaten, the city of light, I cried with bliss, “How great is your beauty, how sweet is your spirit, O God of this city and of the universe.” We prayed in the temple, and sang the hymns of the One God. Meri-Ra was appointed high priest of the Sole Creator. We lived in pure happiness, until one day the king returned from his solitude with a solemn look.
“My God commands me that no other deity should be worshiped in his country.”
I realized instantly the gravity of what he said. “And what will become of the other deities?”
“I will decree the closing of their temples and appropriate their endowments.” He was determined. I remained silent. “You do not seem happy, Nefertiti.”
“You are defying the priests of the entire land,” I replied.
“Yes. It is in my power.”
“If you do so, you are bound to use violence and punishment. You are a man of peace. Why resort to such measures?”
“I shall never use violence as long as I live.”
“What if they disobey you?”
“I will distribute the endowments of the temples to the poor of the country and call upon them to worship the One God and abandon the other deities.”
I felt at once as though a weight had been lifted from my chest. I kissed him. “God will never forsake you.”
