Sphinx's Princess

“It’s nothing new. I’ve wanted to see the city since I got here,” I responded. “The temples, the marketplaces, the people …”

 

“I thought you had such things in Akhmin.” He clicked his tongue. “Anyway, I can’t take you any time soon. I’m very busy. I’m spending a lot of time with the priests of Amun these days, learning how to serve the god so that when I rule, I’ll do it with his blessing.”

 

“How could I ever hope to compete with Amun?” I said dryly.

 

My sarcasm went right over the crown prince’s head. “I’m glad you understand.”

 

Amenophis was seated near enough to overhear our conversation. I gave him a look that said: What did I tell you? He replied with an apologetic expression, and the very next morning he sent a maidservant to invite me to join him for a tour of Thebes.

 

Berett was already up and gone, along with her writing-practice tablet. Ever since Henenu had begun giving her proper instruction, the child got into the habit of running ahead of me to our rooftop classroom in order to have extra time with the scribe. Once those two sunk themselves in the day’s lesson, they probably wouldn’t even notice that I wasn’t there.

 

Amenophis was waiting for me at the main gate of the palace. The guards didn’t even blink when he led me outside to where a blue and gold chariot waited. A groom stood holding the reins of a pair of magnificent horses with pure white coats whose trappings matched the chariot. Ostrich plumes dyed red as pomegranate juice bobbed and nodded atop their heads.

 

“Will you be all right riding with me?” Amenophis asked anxiously. “We could walk, if you’d prefer.”

 

I remembered coming to the palace in a chariot so many months ago. At the time, my mind had been too preoccupied for me to enjoy the experience. I wasn’t going to make that mistake this time.

 

“I want to ride,” I said. “But only if you promise to drive fast.”

 

Amenophis looked dubious, but he gave me what I wanted. I held tight to the chariot rail as he slapped the reins crisply over the horses’ rumps and they took flight. He was a masterful driver. Those skinny arms of his were strong enough to steer the horses with precision, to slow them smoothly when we entered streets where speed would have been folly, to let them race like twin dragonflies skimming the surface of the sacred river. The wind of our ride whipped through my dress and sent my hair streaming behind me. I laughed aloud at the joy of being free.

 

Oh, how I hated it when he brought the horses down to a walk, then made them stop. I wanted to keep on flying! I wanted to outrun my own shadow, and the palace that we’d left behind, and the day when my three years of reprieve would be over and my aunt wouldn’t have to take “Not yet! Not yet!” for an answer.

 

“Can’t we ride some more?” I asked, and was ashamed to hear my own voice sounding so much like a spoiled child’s.

 

“Of course, Nefertiti, but—but I—I thought you might like to see this first,” he said bashfully. “It’s the great temple to Amun that Father is enriching.” His arm swept up and my eyes followed, filling with awe.

 

Such majesty! I had grown up with the temples of Akhmin, I had seen the ancient monuments of Abydos, but this was a holy place of such colossal size that any person seeing it would know how insignificant he was in the presence of the gods. I was only half-aware when Amenophis took my arm, helped me down, turned over his chariot to one of the waiting temple slaves entrusted with such tasks, and began to lead me through the sacred place.

 

Though I returned to the great temple complex many times, my first impression remained my most treasured and—embarrassing to say so—my most jumbled. The grounds were filled with priests and worshippers, workmen and artists, servants and slaves, yet they were little more than phantoms to me. I moved through a dream of looming walls, towering obelisks, sprawling flat-roofed halls whose ceilings were supported by a grove of titanic stone pillars, all carved with images of gods and kings and words that were a resounding shout of self-glorification by one Pharaoh after another. Amenophis’s father was only adding to this place; many other kings had left their mark here before him. Generations of unborn pharaohs would do the same when he returned to the gods. I looked down the long line of pillars and saw eternity. I should have been afraid.

 

I wasn’t; I was overjoyed. “This is beyond belief, Amenophis! I don’t know what to say. It’s all so … so …” I couldn’t speak. My heart was too full, yet I wanted him to know how thrilled I was to stand in the midst of so many wonders. Without thinking, I threw open my arms and hugged him the way I’d hugged Father when I was small and he brought me some new “treasure.”

 

Father never broke out of my innocent embrace so suddenly or moved away from me so fast that he staggered and nearly fell over backward. “I—I—Nefertiti, you shouldn’t …” Amenophis gulped out the words, the bulging lump in his throat jerking up and down rapidly. His eyes darted left and right at the people surrounding us. Most of them went about their business, but a few smirked and snickered.

 

I clapped a hand to my mouth, mortified. “Oh! I’m so sorry! I don’t know why I did that.”

 

“It’s—it’s all right. I was only—surprised. Come, there’s a lot more to see.” He loped away on his long legs, leaving me to pick up the hem of my dress and try to keep pace.

 

I wanted to see everything, but that was impossible. The day wore on, and I became drunk with the glow of sun on golden stone and jewel-hued paints. Soon I was out distancing Amenophis, who began to weaken as I kept him on the run, not even pausing for food or drink. I didn’t notice anything was wrong until he finally staggered into the shade of a sycamore and dropped into a crouch, his head between his knees. That yanked me out of my trance. “What is it, my friend?” I asked, kneeling beside him.