I made a choice.
I can’t say exactly why I did it. I had lived long enough to know that most people—highborn or low, male or female, poor or rich—would think I was a fool. I could hear their scornful voices calling out, “Aren’t you the same girl who was dumbstruck when Princess Tabiri told you she was praying to Hathor for Thutmose? Aren’t you the one who shrilled, ‘Do you know what he did?’ Where has your outrage gone, Nefertiti? He wanted to crush you. He tried to kill you. He’s made his brother’s life an unending procession of mocking words, contempt, and humiliation. Has he shown one flicker of remorse for any of that? Let him live and die with his scraps! They’re more than he deserves. Let him suffer; it serves him right.”
No, it doesn’t, I thought. It serves no one. I recalled the sorrowful look on Amenophis’s gentle face as he said, “Forgive me, Nefertiti—I still love my brother.”
I watched as Thutmose continued to stroke Ta-Miu’s fur. She uttered happy sounds that were a curious mix of snarls and purrs when she drew back her lips, and he rubbed her gums with the edge of his thumb. Her forepaws massaged his chest with a motion like a baker kneading dough. Anger and despair melted from his face. He looked as if he had finally found peace.
“You asked me why I’m here, Thutmose,” I said quietly. “I want you to have Ta-Miu.”
“What?” His eyes shot open. He sat up so fast that the cat went flying in fright from her safe haven on his chest and shot under the bed. He seized my arm before I knew it and brought his face close to mine. His breath smelled sour and stale as he demanded, “Whose idea was this?”
“Mine.”
“Why? What are you up to? Do you give such wonderful gifts to everyone you hate?”
“I don’t hate you, Thutmose.”
How he laughed when I said that! “If only you’d spouted such a lie on that accursed day in Ma’at’s house! Then a thousand goddesses could have howled your innocence to the skies for nothing.”
“It’s true,” I maintained. “I don’t think I can hate you anymore. These past days, I’ve been forced to live cut off from anyone who’s ever been important to me, anyone who’s ever cared about me for who I am—not for my rank or my future or my face. The loneliness—it’s awful. No one should have to suffer that. No one.”
He hadn’t been eating. He had spent most of his time lying inert in a darkened room. It wasn’t so hard for me to twist my arm out of his grasp, but once I’d done that, I slipped my fingers through his and held his hand because it was what I wanted. “I met a woman tonight who knew you when you were a child and who still loves you very much: Princess Tabiri. Her son, Khenti, was your playmate, remember? She does. She wants you to be well and happy and not alone. So do I.”
He pulled his head back and stared at me. “You met Tabiri?” I saw the start of a fond smile on his face before the old, hard glare of suspicion clamped down over his features again. “You watch yourself around that woman, Nefertiti. She’s a worse liar than you. I haven’t seen her face since her son died, and I don’t want to. She resents me for being alive.”
“Oh, who told you that nonsense?” I burst out. “Your mother?”
He refused to answer. Jerking his hand from mine, he sprang from the bed and turned his face to the darkest corner of the room. “You want me to believe that you pity me for being alone? Don’t. I don’t want your pity, not even if it is real. I know better than to trust you. All your sweet talk is honey poured over a dish of scorpions. You’re not offering me my Ta-Miu because you feel sorry for me; you’re trying to deceive me the way you’ve always done! A simple, heartfelt good deed, a gift from the heart.” Sarcasm made his words ugly. “What a clever way to lead me on, to let me feel safe with you. Safe as a sheep feels the moment before the butcher cuts its throat.”
“Thutmose, listen: All I’m trying to do is let you have Ta-Miu again.” I spoke slowly, as if explaining things to a man who’d cracked his skull in a fall. “I have no hidden reasons for it.”
“Not you,” Thutmose said, turning sharply. “Amenophis. He’s heard that Father’s made my unfair punishment milder, and now he’s afraid it’s just the first step to bringing things back to the way they should be. He’s trembling because he thinks I might win back my rightful place as crown prince. And I will! Then I’ll show him what Pharaoh does to traitors.”
I could hardly breathe, listening to the madness pouring from Thutmose’s mouth. “Amenophis isn’t a traitor; he loves you! He doesn’t want the crown.”
“More lies! He envies me. He’s always envied me. He’s always wanted everything I have. Why else did he work so hard to turn you against me? We should have been married by now, Nefertiti. We would have been man and wife, if not for his disloyalty, and Father would have made me his coruler. Amenophis couldn’t let that happen. He’s a sly one. He doesn’t love you any more than he loves me. He saw that you’re a stupid girl who likes to rescue broken creatures, so he played on your weak-minded ways and shaped your soft heart to suit his plans. He only won your devotion to keep it away from me.”
He leered as if challenging me to argue the point. What would be the use of that? It would be like trying to empty the sacred river with a cracked cup.
“What will it take to convince you that Amenophis cares about you, Thutmose?” I asked. “What does he have to do for you to treat him like a brother, not an enemy?”
“You want to give me back Ta-Miu,” Thutmose replied. “Tell him to give me back you.”
“He can’t—”
“Ha!”