I opened my eyes and nodded. “I’m fine.”
I was brought to a great audience hall where Pharaoh’s throne stood empty under its canopy. The official guided me around the platform to a humble doorway curtained with woven reeds. Through this was Pharaoh’s private presence chamber. I’d heard of its existence from Sitamun when she described yet another foreign ambassador who’d come to ask for one of Pharaoh’s daughters as a bride for his king. Pharaoh always refused but had the kindness to do it in this chamber, to spare the envoy and his king public humiliation.
I didn’t have time to take in my surroundings before Pharaoh spoke to me from the gilded chair in the center of the room. “There you are, my dear Nefertiti. I’m always so happy to see your lovely face. Please”—a rasping cough echoed from the walls—“please come nearer, child. It’s been too long since I’ve enjoyed your company.”
I approached Pharaoh with reverence and bowed low, my hands outstretched to honor the living god. “It’s my joy to be here,” I said, thankful that our family ties excused me from having to cover him with praise and blessings before actually talking to him. “How may I serve you?”
I heard him chuckle, then cough again. “First, by looking at me so that I can delight in your beauty.”
I did as he asked. A wedge of sunlight bathed the floor between us, but Pharaoh’s chair remained in shadow. My eyes had to adjust between the contrasting light and darkness in the room, but when they did, I saw that he and I were the only ones there. What does it mean? I thought, trying to stay calm.
“You can come closer than that, can’t you?” he said. “I should have ordered the slaves to bring some lamps, but I’m so tired of lamplight. Do you know, as long as you’ve been with us, I haven’t seen your face by daylight more than a handful of times? And I haven’t been able to speak more than a few words to you. That saddens me more than you can ever know. I’ve asked you to come see me because I’ve finally got the time to correct that.” He patted the arm of his chair. “Please.”
I crossed the room until I stood with my feet no more than a hand’s breadth from his. His smile was a wide, pale gleam in the semidarkness. “You do look like her,” he said.
I could guess who he meant. “My mother …”
“She was even lovelier than you, Nefertiti. I hope you don’t mind my saying that.”
I shook my head. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“Then you are an exceptional female. My dear Tiye flies into a tantrum if I say one word about another woman’s beauty. Sometimes I think that she encouraged your parents to wed so that I couldn’t marry your mother.” He smiled. “The gods must have guided her plans, because if I had made your mother my bride, I wouldn’t be seeing this exquisite face before me now.” He stretched out one hand to cup my chin. His touch was oddly cold and damp. With my eyes now used to the shadows, I could see that his face was no longer full and gleaming with health but dull and haggard.
“My—my lord Pharaoh,” I began.
“Sweet girl, you’re a princess now, my kin even before you marry my son. You can call me Father. In fact, I insist on it.”
“Father …” It didn’t feel natural, speaking to a living god so familiarly, but I couldn’t disobey. “Father, are you—are you well?”
He laughed softly into his fist, though there might have been a fresh cough hidden in the laughter. “Your mother was also very smart; nothing escaped her. Tiye needn’t have worried about my marrying that one, no matter how beautiful she was. One wife who sees everything is plenty for any man. Tell me, Nefertiti, does your father’s second wife have hawk’s eyes, too?”
And so my question went unanswered as Pharaoh filled our time together with pleasant, meaningless conversation. My worries about his reasons for wanting to see me drifted away like mist, but a fresh ember of doubt settled in my belly and began to burn: What is the matter with him?
At one point, he wanted us to share cakes and wine. He clapped to summon a servant, but his hands shook and made such a weak sound that he looked ashamed. I couldn’t bear to see him so dejected, so I raised my voice and called out: “Isis have mercy, Father, how many times do you have to clap before those lazy servants wake up and do their jobs?” Two men charged into the room so fast that they nearly fell all over one another. Pharaoh gave me a grateful look; I’d rescued his pride.
When it was time for me to go, the same well-dressed official who’d brought me into Pharaoh’s presence came to escort me back to the women’s quarters. Since Pharaoh hadn’t called for him, I assumed that the length of my visit had been decided in advance. I was glad that it had gone well and that Amenophis’s father and I got along when we could be ourselves. How awkward to be trapped for that long with a man whose company was an ordeal!
On the other hand, it would have been good practice for being married to Thutmose, I told myself grimly as I left the private audience chamber. I can’t go through with it. I have to find a way to get my freedom back, a way that won’t let Aunt Tiye retaliate.
The weeks passed and the season of the Inundation came, bringing great rejoicing. Pharaoh Amenhotep appeared before the people, performing all of his ceremonial duties with a firm step and steady hands. I stood with the rest of the royal family and watched, amazed to see him in such robust health. The vigorous king I saw offering gold and incense to the god Hapy made me wonder if the ailing man I’d visited had been part of a dream.