“Ah, so my evil plan is discovered. A thousand curses on all clever girls!” he exclaimed, and for the first time, I heard him laugh with warmth and pure joy.
Things were much better between us after that. It became my pleasure to keep him amused with jokes, entertained with songs, enthralled with the same sort of stories I used to tell my little sister, Bit-Bit. Sometimes I had Uni bring us the game board for playing Senet. We tossed knucklebones to see how many spaces we could move our pawns around the course, and when he tired of that, we turned the board over for a match of Twenty Squares. We soon agreed that the winner would be whoever was farthest ahead at the moment when Ta-Miu pounced into the middle of the game and scattered the pieces.
One day, Thutmose refused my offer of a game. “I don’t feel well,” he said. “I’m too tired to play.”
I studied him closely. “You do look a little flushed. You might have a fever. I’ll get the doctor.”
“No, don’t. I just want to rest a bit. Why don’t you go out into the garden? I’ll have Uni bring you back when I’m ready to beat you at Dogs and Jackals.”
“Since when do you have a Dogs and Jackals board?”
“Since I remembered what an excellent player I am. Now go and prepare for your doom.”
I did as he asked, though I would have rather made sure that Pharaoh’s doctor came to check on him. To take my mind off my worries for Thutmose, I turned my thoughts elsewhere as I walked along the garden path. He did love the tales I told, so I began creating a new one, resting my sight on the tranquil ripples of the lotus pool as I waited for fresh ideas to come to me. A bird was singing in the willows, and I tried to seize that thread of song and weave it into my story. Was the bird a messenger from the gods? An enchanted princess? A wandering spirit that could not enter the afterlife until a curse was broken or an incomplete task was fulfilled? I decided that the bird was an ordinary girl, a farmer’s daughter who had done something to please the dwarf-god Bes. Bes offered to grant her one wish, and so she wished to be able to fly, but before her wish was granted, she did something to annoy the god and so … and so …
“And so what did she do to anger him?” I asked the sky. “It would have to be something awful. Bes is very kind and patient, especially with children. Would he get mad if she laughed at how short and ugly he is? Oh, I know! The evil one, Set, disguised himself as Bes, in order to play tricks on mortals, and—” I lowered my voice as I wrestled with the problems of my story.
“That’s not fair, Nefertiti. Now I can’t hear you, and you were getting to the best part.”
My heart beat faster at the sound of the voice coming from the green shade of the willows. The singing bird took flight as Amenophis emerged through the delicate, drooping branches, his arms held out to me. I rushed into their circle with a cry of pure happiness.
“So this is why you sent me into the garden, Thutmose?” I said, pointing at Amenophis as we came back into the prince’s room, arm in arm. “The next time you claim to have a fever, I’ll simply dump a jar of water on you.” I tried to sound severe and angry. I was a total failure.
The three of us gathered around the Dogs and Jackals board, but we talked more than we played. My spirit sang louder than any bird as I saw how well the brothers were getting along. It all felt so much like a happy dream that I was afraid to ask how such a thing had come to be, in case asking that question would break the spell and wake me.
Luckily, Thutmose didn’t want to wait for my question before telling me everything. He took mischievous delight in playing the storyteller for once: “You know Mother came to see me every day at first, and she brought this old papyrus stalk along.” He jerked his thumb at Amenophis. “But as soon as the doctor told her I was in no danger, she found other business to mind. Think of how surprised I was on the first day she didn’t come here, but he did!”
“I can’t say I got a warm welcome,” Amenophis added. He glanced at a place on the wall where the painted pattern was marred by a dark, irregular stain and some chipping. “I hope that wasn’t a special goblet you threw at my head.”
“It was made of glass.” Thutmose looked sulky, remembering how his temper had led him to destroy something so rare, precious, and costly. “I don’t know why you came back after that.”
“Come back? I stayed that first time!” Amenophis chuckled. “I was safe enough. As soon as you realized what you’d destroyed, I reckoned you’d think twice before hurling another treasure at me.”
I gave Thutmose a hard look. “You threw a glass goblet at him? What about our wager?”
He was visibly ashamed. “I forgot, for a moment.”
“Nefertiti, let’s not argue about pebbles and forget to look at the mountain,” Amenophis said. He sat beside his brother on the bed and put his arm around him.
Thutmose resumed his story, telling me how Amenophis came to see him loyally, day after day, sometimes bringing him small, special gifts, always sharing the news of the palace. Aunt Tiye was content. As long as Amenophis stayed away from me, she didn’t need to come up with more and more excuses to separate us. She never knew how much Amenophis welcomed this chance to be with his brother.
But Thutmose did, in time. The brotherly friendship I’d tried to force on him had come into being on its own.
When he finished his tale, Thutmose clapped his hands together with satisfaction and announced, “Now that you see where we are, Nefertiti, we can all plan our next step together.”
I glanced around the room uncertainly. “How much longer do you think we will be able to meet like this?” I asked. “Your mother’s agents are going to tell her that Amenophis and I have been under your roof together, and she won’t like it.”