Father and I rejoined Mery and Bit-Bit in my parents’ room. The queen’s oath-taking had eaten up a lot of time, but I had no misgivings about leaving little Berett behind for so long. Once again, my good friend Henenu had volunteered to keep her with him while I was busy elsewhere. The child seemed happy in his company. Though Henenu was one of the most experienced and respected scribes of the royal court, he willingly tossed his dignity and importance aside in order to dance, sing, tell stories, recite poems, and even make fantastic faces—all to entertain one small slave girl.
I was glad. As much as I cared about Berett and as passionately as I wanted to help her out of the pit that had swallowed her voice, I knew that we two would have plenty of time together after we left Abydos. I couldn’t say the same for my beloved family. Once the next day dawned, we would part ways, and the gods alone knew when we would see one another again. My heart ached, but I didn’t cry during the short time we had left to spend together. I was afraid that if my tears started, they’d never stop.
We all sat together, Father and Mery on chairs, Bit-Bit and I on the bed facing them. Mery’s smile wobbled whenever she looked at me.
“I’m such a silly woman, Nefertiti,” she said, her eyes blinking rapidly. “Here you are, grown up enough to be getting married, and all I want to do is hold you in my lap the way I did when you were small.”
“I don’t think you’re silly, Mother.” I started toward her, but she held up her hands to stop me.
“Not yet. If I hold you again, I’ll never let you go, and I know that’s not possible.” The room was not well lit, but I could still see the tears beginning to fall from her eyes.
I touched Bit-Bit’s shoulder. “Sit with Mother.” So my little sister took the place I longed to be and dried Mery’s tears with her kisses.
Father looked at me intently. I think he couldn’t bear the sight of Mery weeping. Perhaps he was afraid that if he looked at her too long, he’d cry too, and then we’d all be in tears. “My sweet Nefertiti, will you make me a promise?” he asked. “Be my voice when you next see Henenu. My poor friend! He sent me a message begging my forgiveness.”
“Forgiveness? But he hasn’t done anything,” I pro tested.
“I know that, but he thinks he has. He blames himself for—for our parting.” Father sighed. “He fears that by praising you to Tiye so much and so eloquently, he gave her the idea to make you Thutmose’s bride. He’s convinced I must hate him for it.”
“But that’s ridiculous!” I cried. “He was only telling her about her family. He’s not at fault for what she did with that news.”
“That’s what I say, too.” Father managed a weak smile. “You’d think Henenu would give me credit for having more sense than that, but the fellow’s desolate. So promise me, dear one, that you’ll let him know our friendship is secure.”
“I promise,” I said. “Gladly.”
“Another thing,” Father said. “When you reach Thebes, little kitten, be careful. You’re a smart girl, but you’re very young and you think that everyone can be trusted.”
I laughed. “Not anymore. The high priest of Isis and Aunt Tiye already taught me that lesson.”
“The high priest is a stupid bully and my sister is so powerful that she doesn’t care if anyone trusts her as long as they do what she commands. I’m talking about the sort of people who’ll pretend to befriend you. They’ll seem exactly as faithful as your true friends, but they see you only as a step to help them rise high or a hoe to clear away the muck they don’t want to touch with their own hands.”
“If I don’t trust anyone, I’ll soon be like Aunt Tiye, seeing plots against me everywhere I look,” I said. “Father, I can’t live like that.”
“I would never tell you to do that,” he replied. “For now, rely on Henenu. Better to lean against a single wall made of stone than against a palace made of reeds. Not everyone in the royal court is a schemer, no matter what my sister thinks. If you go slowly, in time you’ll find other trustworthy people, and you’ll learn how to tell the difference between false friends and true. You’ll be walking among lions. Promise me you’ll always keep your eyes wide open.”
“I will.”
“And I will send you messages as often as I can, so you never forget how much we love you.” He sighed. “I don’t know if Tiye will let them reach you, but I will send them.”
“Why would she keep your messages from me?” I asked.
“If I know her, she’ll soon dismiss our bargain and want to push you into marrying her boy. The more you’re reminded that you have a loving family in Akhmin, the less hope Tiye has that you’ll embrace a new one in Thebes.”
I hugged Father tight. “I have one family, and I don’t need any message to help me remember that.”
That night, I shared my sister’s room. We lay in the same bed and spent the hours whispering memories, making promises, and wondering about what the future might hold. I’d brought Berett with me, and the little slave girl lay across the foot of our bed, the only one of us to sleep.
“Maybe you should marry Thutmose right away,” Bit-Bit said. “Then you’ll be a princess and you can order them to bring me to Thebes.”
“And what would Mother and Father do without you? Besides, I haven’t even set eyes on Thutmose. I might not want to rush into marrying him.”
“Are you afraid he’ll be that ugly?”
“I don’t care about things like that,” I said. “The high priest’s son was very good-looking, but I couldn’t talk to him. It was like talking to a child.”
“I’m a child and you can talk to me,” Bit-Bit pointed out.
“No one is asking me to marry you … child,” I teased.
Bit-Bit rolled over, turning her back to me. “You can’t fool me, Nefertiti. You like pretty things. I’ll bet that you’d choose a good-looking husband over an ugly one.”
“I would not!” I protested. And I believed it.
The next morning, I took Aunt Tiye’s silver bracelet off my wrist and slipped it over my sister’s hand. Bit-Bit couldn’t take her eyes off it. “Oh, Nefertiti, you can’t give this to me! What if Aunt Tiye finds out?”