The woman nodded and her earrings jingled. “I’ve known her for years, and I’ve known who you are from the first day you arrived. You might not have noticed me, but I was there, just another face in the curious crowd who saw you enter the royal palace. I remember thinking, ‘Isn’t she a pretty girl! Is she going to be someone’s new toy or one of Tiye’s handpicked tools? But you surprised me: You were no one’s plaything, and when your aunt tried using you to build her older boy a throne, you became the ax that slips through the workman’s hands and chops his foot off!” She laughed so loudly that a pair of owls roosting in the tree above her head took flight, hooting angrily. Ta-Miu followed their path, paws drawn in close, tail lashing, then launched herself after them, her claws slicing thin air.
“Look at her, will you?” The woman chuckled over Ta-Miu’s antics. “Ready to take on two owls at once when even one could probably carry her away. I don’t remember her being this feisty when she belonged to Thutmose.” She saw my renewed expression of surprise, and it amused her mightily.
“Yes, yes, I know that this is—was—Thutmose’s cat. I know a great deal about that boy.” She clucked her tongue. “A pity, what he’s become. He was such a sweet child, so affectionate! I loved him dearly. He liked to come visit me and my boy Khenti until Tiye put a stop to it. That child couldn’t have been more than five years old when she began filling his head with the notion that his life was just a race to the throne, that every one of his brothers was a rival, and that nobody would ever befriend him because they liked him, only because they wanted something in return.”
“It sounds like you’ve known my aunt a long time,” I said.
“Oh, from the very beginning! She and I arrived here within a few seasons of one another, the daughter of a prince and the daughter of a commoner.”
“You’re a prince’s daughter?” I asked. I could believe it. She carried herself with the easy elegance of someone used to being obeyed.
“Oh, I beg your pardon, Lady Nefertiti; I know you, but you don’t know me. My name is Tabiri, and my father—may his soul live on—was a prince of Nubia. Well, you can imagine how surprised this princess was to find that my chief rival for the position of Great Royal Wife wasn’t royal at all! We were both beautiful girls, but Tiye was also single-minded and clever. I counted on my good looks and my princely blood to bring me the honor I thought I deserved. She counted on nothing being brought to her; she would take it. And she did!” She chuckled.
“You—you don’t seem to mind what happened,” I remarked.
“What good would it do me to resent her victory? If you spend your days chewing over your old grudges, you’ll soon have nothing but a mouthful of poison and no room on your tongue to taste life’s sweetness. Besides, I didn’t lose to your aunt because of something she did, but because of something that just … happened.” She paused and looked to the stars. “Sometimes I like to sit out here and pretend I see the spirits of my father and my son shining up there together, laughing with the gods.”
“Your son … I’m sorry, Princess Tabiri.”
She shrugged. “At least Khenti left this world knowing that he had my love and that he never needed a crown to keep it. And when he died, Tiye mourned almost as much as I. I can’t say she was unhappy when I couldn’t bear any more children, because that removed all chance of Pharaoh naming me Great Royal Wife instead of her, but I know she never wanted to achieve that title through my Khenti’s death. She is not a bad woman, Lady Nefertiti; it’s only that she’s built a brick wall in front of her eyes, and she refuses to believe there’s anything worth seeing on the other side.”
She’s built another around me, I thought. I felt very tired. “Lady Tabiri, I think I want to go back to my rooms now, but I don’t know the way. Will you help me?”
“It would be a pleasure, my dear.” She linked one arm through mine and led me out of the garden by a different doorway. As we strolled through the silent palace, she told me stories about her lost son. “That Khenti. He was born with a warrior’s spirit. Even before he was born, how he kicked! When Pharaoh first saw him, he said to me, ‘Tabiri, this one won’t wait to be given the crown; he’ll snatch it from my head!’ That was the day I received this.” She pointed proudly to her heavy collar of gold, turquoise, and lapis beads interwoven with at least twenty scarab amulets carved from a host of precious stones. It was beautiful, and massive enough to cover half her chest.
“That’s breathtaking,” I said.
“And I would throw it into the sacred river in a heartbeat if that would bring Khenti back to me. I’m pleased to be able to show it to you. I’m giving it away tomorrow as a sacrifice to Hathor.”
“I hope you’re praying for love and not because you need her healing powers,” I said.
“I’m praying for both, but not for me. I don’t need anything from the goddess. I’m making the sacrifice for Thutmose’s sake.”
I stopped in my tracks. “Princess Tabiri, do you know what he did?”
“I have lived in this palace almost as long as Tiye. My ears are sharp, and the servants know I pay generously for information. If a fly lands on Pharaoh’s forehead, I know about it. Thutmose drew a weapon and utterly blasphemed in the Palace of Ma’at; then he tried to kill you. His father had him imprisoned in his rooms and wouldn’t even speak about him, let alone to him.” She raised her arms to admire her collection of bracelets and bangles as she added, “That changed twelve days ago. Tiye was able to convince Pharaoh to temper the boy’s punishment.”
“My aunt could convince Isis to pardon Set,” I muttered.
“Thutmose is still forbidden to step outside the palace walls, but inside, he can go where he likes.”
“Anywhere?” My head spun. A serpent was at large in the halls of the palace. He had been freed to prowl wherever he liked for twelve days, and I’d heard nothing, seen nothing, just as the mouse fails to see the falcon’s shadow or hear a rush of wings until the talons strike. How could I ever hope to sleep soundly again?
She heard the rising note of panic in my voice and put one arm around me. “Is this the little girl who stood up so bravely in the presence of Ma’at? I tell you, child, you have no worries. Thutmose has been given liberty, but the gift lies untouched. He has not stirred from his rooms. From what I hear—and I hear everything—he has not even stirred from his bed.”