“Nefertiti, no more.” Amenophis cupped my shoulders with his hands, speaking softly but urgently. “It’s no use arguing with her about what’s in the past between you and my brother. Speak to her about now.”
I saw the wisdom in his words and nodded. “Aunt Tiye,” I said, pulling back my shoulders and standing as firmly as I’d done that morning in the house of truth. “Aunt Tiye, the only wedding voyage I will make is when I marry this man.” I clasped my beloved’s hand in mine and raised them high for her and all her attendants to see.
My aunt regarded the two of us coldly for a long time. My bedchamber filled with silence as we waited to hear what she would say to my open act of defiance. Then, instead of speaking, she made a curt gesture to her maids and they filed out of the room, out of my quarters entirely, leaving the three of us alone with the few lamps my maids had kindled before I’d sent them away. One of these had already run out of oil and was no more than a blackened wick sending up a thread of smoke in the shadows. Two remained, petals of fire wavering against the dark.
“Little girl, save your breath,” my aunt said at last. “You can argue, fight, weep, curse, even bring the voices of a dozen gods to speak for you. The result will be the same. You will marry Thutmose or you will marry no one.”
“What’s the matter with you, Aunt Tiye? Why are you still trying to do this to me? The game is over. You can’t win. You said yourself that Thutmose won’t inherit the throne because he’s lost his father’s favor.”
“And you have gained it. I have stood outside my husband’s rooms, pleading with him to reconsider his actions against our boy, to understand, to forgive him and restore him to his rightful place as heir to the double crown. He wouldn’t open the doors. But if you were to go to him and declare that you realized that Thutmose was—was under a spell, or ill, or something to excuse his actions this morning, those doors would open. And if you then told Pharaoh that you repent all your foolishness and want nothing more than to accept Thutmose as your husband, your words would become the wings to lift him to the place he belongs—onto the throne of his ancestors. Marry my son, Nefertiti, and undo all the harm you’ve done to him, to me, to your family.”
Her reasoning made twisted sense: If I could forgive Thutmose for everything he’d done and tried to do to me, his father should be able to forgive him anything, even profaning Ma’at’s shrine with a bared weapon and vile speech. Even so, how could she believe I’d ever be a willing part of such a plan?
I sighed deeply. “Aunt Tiye, I’m not the one who’s done any harm to our family. I never wanted to leave Akhmin, to come to Thebes, to live in a palace, to wear a crown. I certainly never wanted Thutmose’s father to turn his back on his eldest son. If Pharaoh will consent to see me, I’ll go to him and ask him to take Thutmose back as his son, even if not as his heir, but that is all I’ll do.”
“Little enough,” Aunt Tiye snarled. “Worse than nothing. Amenophis!” Her head whipped in his direction. “You claim to care about me, and you say you want your brother’s happiness. Show it! Make this stupid girl do what’s needed to restore Thutmose to his rightful place. You can do it. She loves you.”
I never saw such a look of dismay and disillusion on Amenophis’s face as I saw then. “If that’s how you think, Mother …” He shook his head slowly. “My poor, poor father.”
“What are you babbling about?” Aunt Tiye spat the words in his face. “Go! Get out of my sight!”
“I’m not leaving you alone with Nefertiti,” he replied.
“Why not? Afraid I’ll hurt her?” Aunt Tiye sneered. “If that’s what you think of your own mother, rest easy: I’m leaving, too.”
“I never said I was leaving at all.”
How Aunt Tiye’s eyes flashed with rage when he said that! “Then stay with her, and may Ammut devour both your hearts for this treachery.” She strode out of the room.
I reached up and kissed Amenophis’s cheek. “I’m so sorry, my dearest one. I wish she’d turned all of her anger against me before she said such awful things to you.”
“She couldn’t help herself, Nefertiti,” he replied. There was a great weariness in his voice. “She loves Thutmose too much to see him the way others do. And what’s worse”—he paused for a breath—“so do I.”
His words robbed me of the power to speak. All I could do was stare at him, my mouth open, numbly asking myself if I’d misheard him. “How … ?” was all I could muster. “How?”
“How can I say that, after all you endured today?” Amenophis made a helpless gesture. “I can’t explain it. It’s not as if he was ever kind to me. There were moments when I sensed he wanted to treat me differently, except he didn’t know how.” He shook his head. “Maybe I just imagined those times because I craved them so much.”
Or maybe they were there, I thought. Maybe Thutmose did want to be a true brother to Amenophis, but someone made him afraid to try. Oh, Aunt Tiye, if this is what your love has done to your firstborn, I’m glad you held it back from your second son!
Amenophis held me close. His eyes brimmed with sadness. “I must speak honestly, even if you come to hate me for it. I can never forget what Thutmose tried to do to you, but—forgive me, Nefertiti—I still love my brother.”
“Then love him.” I cradled Amenophis’s face in my hands. “And may the day soon come when he loves you.” We shared another kiss, but I was the one who ended it when I realized I was trying to stifle a yawn.
“Poor Nefertiti.” Amenophis chuckled and brushed my chin with one fingertip. “You’re tired, aren’t you?”
It was the truth. My legs were beginning to feel like wilted flower stems. Suddenly all I wanted to do was go to bed and sleep for days. “Sorry …” I tried and failed to smother a second yawn.
He kissed the top of my head. “Rest well, beloved,” he murmured into my hair, and left me.