“Not all of his potions taste like the wrath of Set,” Thutmose argued. “I can’t force you to do it, but … I’d feel better if you would.”
“I’ll think about it,” I said. Thutmose’s newly revealed thoughtfulness made it hard to tell him No outright.
“Think about this as well, then: If you do fall ill again, how will I be able to send you home?”
“Home? Why would you need to send me—?”
“I don’t mean my home, Nefertiti,” he said gruffly, slowing our chariot to a standstill a spear-cast from the city gate. “I mean Akhmin.”
Tears stung my eyes. Akhmin! For more than a year I’d yearned to hear from them but hadn’t been permitted to receive a single message. And now, to be offered the opportunity to return—!
“Don’t taunt me, Thutmose,” I said, swallowing my tears. “I know it’s impossible. Aunt Tiye would never—”
“She’s in Dendera,” he cut in. “ I am here and in command. You will sail to Akhmin in three days’ time.”
My arms were around his neck before the last word left his lips, and I didn’t care how many travelers on the road to and from Thebes saw me kiss him.
He hosted another family dinner that evening, though this one was a simple affair—no fancy dishes, no perfumed cones of wax for our heads, no flowers, and no entertainment. When I came in, he rose to greet me and seated me in the fancy, high-backed chair beside him instead of on the low stool among his sisters where I’d been the previous night.
“Isn’t this your brother’s place?” I asked. Amenophis was nowhere to be seen.
“Don’t fret, Nefertiti, he’ll be here soon. He’s helping me with preparations for some important business that will take place at my audience tomorrow. You can move elsewhere when he arrives. Can you tolerate being next to me in the meantime?” He smiled.
He filled my plate and my cup with his own hands and urged all of us to eat and drink. When Amenophis finally joined us, I tried to give him his chair but he only shook his head and went to sit with his sisters. He ate and drank very little, and whenever I caught him looking my way it was always with a melancholy smile.
Hathor and Isis be my help, I thought with growing exasperation. Now he’s the envious one? And after all he’s endured because of Thutmose’s jealousy! Oh, I will never understand boys.
I tried to make things better. I tried to draw Amenophis into conversation. I tried offering to give him back his place at Thutmose’s side. I tried making jokes and recounting Kepi’s horror when she saw how disheveled I was after my morning chariot ride. I tried everything I could think of, but in the end it was Thutmose who was able to conjure a true smile back to his brother’s lips.
“Nefertiti, you’re forgetting something. Tell Amenophis about your new gift.” He beamed at his brother. “Better yet, let me do it. Amenophis, today I made your friend a present of my chariot and horses. She also has my permission to use her gift freely, coming and going with or without an escort whenever she likes; however”—he raised one finger to draw attention to what he had to say next—“I understand that she’s quite the able driver and that you’re the one to thank for teaching her that skill. Therefore I would be very happy if you’d promise me to accompany her on her outings as much as possible—with her permission, of course.”
“Thutmose … ?” Amenophis regarded his brother warily. “Are you really saying … ? Uh, I mean …” He floundered.
Thutmose looked at him with affection. “Yes, I do mean it, brother. Consider it my gift to you, and one that’s long overdue. Things haven’t been as they should be between us. If I were to die tomorrow, I wouldn’t want to stand before Osiris with this regret weighing down my heart. Rather than prepare a feast for Ammut the Devourer, I prefer to make amends with you.”
Amenophis stood up and raised his goblet. “May the gods witness the truth between us. Live long, be blessed, and know that I will always be your loyal servant and loving brother.” The two of them rushed into each other’s arms while the royal princesses and I laughed, cheered, and applauded for joy.
The physician Ptah-Hotep came to my rooms that evening after dinner. He was carrying another small clay pot, but this one steamed with a sweet, tempting fragrance. “Lady Nefertiti, I am here at the command of Prince Thutmose, may he live and reign. He has informed me that you had a rather … unsettling chariot ride this morning. He requests that I offer you this soothing drink, to assure you of a good night’s sleep.”
I eyed the steaming clay pot in his hands. It did have a pleasant aroma, but I couldn’t get the memory of that morning’s goose-fat-and-the-gods-alone-knew-what-else brew out of my mind. Just thinking about it made me gag all over again. While I was debating what to do, a sleepy-eyed Nava came padding out of the bedroom, woken by our conversation.
“Thank you, Master Ptah-Hotep,” I said, lifting the drowsy child onto my lap. “But I believe I’ll sleep well enough without help.”
He bowed his head. “As you wish. It is my professional opinion that you would be the better for drinking this—it’s nothing more than milk, honey, and some soothing herbs—but the decision is yours. I can understand your mistrust. You look at me and see a withered old man almost past his usefulness, passing his days by preparing worthless potions that only serve to make you sicker. You are wise to dismiss me. Perhaps your reluctance is a sign from the gods. I should heed it and retire from the practice of medicine, awaiting the day Anubis comes to lead my soul into the Afterlife.”
He looked so aged and doleful that I couldn’t stand it. I took the clay pot from his hands and drank. My heart wouldn’t let me do otherwise, out of pity for the man. Nava’s nose twitched and she stretched out her hands, silently requesting a taste.