“But why am I worth his hate?” I tore the wreath from my head and threw it at the door. I was about to do the same with the fan, but she grabbed my wrist and stopped me.
“Nefertiti, control yourself,” she murmured. “Throw that and it will attract attention. There are two pairs of ears on the other side of that door, two tattling tongues that are in my brother’s pay. Why do you think I’ve been keeping my voice down? Your life’s in peril because of all the secrets he’s kept from you. Let’s try to keep some from him.”
“Keeping secrets from me is no challenge,” I said bitterly. “I’m easily blinded. The smallest kindness dazzles me, the least bit of attention from a good-looking young man is like a donkey’s kick: It scrambles my brains. I should have suspected him from the moment I saw how perfectly dressed and groomed he was at my trial. Who paints his eyes at that hour of the night? The Amun priests didn’t set my doom in motion; he did. It was right in front of me and I didn’t see it.” I shook my head. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”
“You’re not stupid,” Nava said staunchly. “Remember the funny milk we drank? It made me sleepy, and my head was all fuzzy, and I only had a little. You had lots more.”
“Funny milk?” Sitamun looked at me quizzically. I told her about another of her brother’s “kindnesses,” sending the old physician Ptah-hotep to my room. “A sleeping potion … no wonder you had trouble speaking in your own defense against that boy’s testimony.”
“Poor Meketre,” I said. “Thutmose must have terrorized him into telling such awful lies.”
“You can save your pity,” Sitamun said. “Meketre acted willingly.”
“Why would he? I don’t know him; I never did anything to him.”
“Not to him,” she said. “To his mother. He’s the son of one of the Ugarit women whose conspiracy you discovered.”
“Oh!” Comprehension struck me like a blow. “Was she—was she executed?”
“Exiled. Her friend didn’t fare as well, nor the nobleman who worked with them, but Father was merciful to her, for Meketre’s sake. He divorced her and sent her to the farthest reaches of Nubia as a gift for one of his officials. She might as well be dead, as far as Meketre’s concerned. When Thutmose wanted his help, that boy must have leaped at the chance for revenge.”
“Thutmose must be happy to have a brother who’s like him, for a change,” I said. “No wonder he didn’t challenge any of the holes in Meketre’s testimony.”
My limbs felt suddenly heavy. It wasn’t enough for Thutmose to condemn and imprison me; he’d played games with me, filling me with hopes he knew were nothing but smoke and dust. And why take such pains to hurt me now, when he’d achieved his dream and had one foot firmly on the steps to the throne? The answers hammered inside my head:
Because you preferred his brother, and how could you do that when he knows he’s so much stronger, more handsome, more important than Amenophis? Because your choice wounded his pride. Because Amenophis can never have anything without Thutmose believing it was wrenched away from him, whether he ever wanted it or not. You helped the thief, and now you have to pay.
“Nefertiti?” Nava’s voice shook. “Nefertiti, last night when the nice prince carried me back to our rooms, Kepi asked him what was happening and—and he told her that—that the reason you’re shut up in here is that Ta-Miu is dead. Is it true?”
“Not at all, little bird, I swear it,” I said. If Ma’at couldn’t forgive me for that lie, I didn’t care.
Nava was unconvinced. “I know you’d never hurt her, but someone else who wants you blamed for it could have—have killed …” Her lower lip trembled.
I stilled it with the touch of my finger. “Prince Thutmose loves Ta-Miu very much. He doesn’t like me, but no matter how much he wants to punish me, he would never sacrifice her to do it.”
“Oh. Good.” Nava believed me now. I wished I could believe myself.
Before Sitamun and Nava left me, they emptied the leather bag that had held my ruined letter and gave me a comb, a fresh gown, and a little flask of perfume.
“We’ll bring you more nice things tomorrow,” Nava promised, and kissed me goodbye. She would have thought I was silly if I’d told her that the sound of her restored voice was the nicest gift of all.
I was left alone with my anger and my thoughts. At first, all I could do was imagine all the things I’d like to do to Thutmose for the way he’d deceived me, but once I’d exhausted my nastiest dreams of revenge, I realized that they were never going to happen. And not just because I haven’t got the strength or the means to accomplish them, I thought. If I’d do such things to punish him, then I become him, and that is something I must never do.
A servant brought me more food and drink—bread, a pair of roasted quail, a few dates, a jug of weak beer. There was also a note from Thutmose: Be happy, Nefertiti. The letter to your parents has already left the palace. I could just picture him saying such lies and felt a fleeting urge to slap them off his lips.
Nefertiti, control yourself. Sitamun’s words came back to me. I conquered the impulse to throw his note out of my window or into the clay pot on my toilet stool. Instead I tucked it under my sleeping mat, just as if I were still starry-eyed over him.