by Dee, Debbie
The magic of the room disappeared.
Several heads turned in their direction, wanting to watch the drama unfold. Tiy’s hands turned to ice, her tongue numb. She opened her mouth to say something, but the words caught in her throat.
Kepi smirked and flicked her hair with her hand, turning around to laugh with the girls surrounding her. She reached up to flick her hair again and the bangles on her wrists clinked against one another. She had more gold on her arms than everyone in the room combined.
“Don’t pay any attention to her,” Petep said.
How could she not pay any attention to her? She was mean and kept glaring back at her before whispering something to her friends. But even if she weren’t so mean, it would still be difficult not to notice her. She was probably the prettiest girl Tiy had ever seen. Her kalasiris was made of the thinnest, most expensive weave, yet Tiy had a feeling she could make even a rough burlap sack look like an exotic work of art.
“She didn’t used to be this way,” Petep whispered.
Tiy caught Kepi’s glance and thought she saw something flash in her eyes, something that looked a lot like the expression she saw in her mother’s eyes when her father had once threatened to throw an old jar into the river. She couldn’t remember the reason why her father threatened to do such a thing, or why her mother cared so much, she only remembered the terror in her mother’s eyes, the helplessness of losing something precious. Kepi blinked and her eyes turned back to stone.
Tiy leaned toward Petep. “What happened?” she whispered.
Petep’s eyes saddened. “Before my brother, the eldest, passed on to the Afterlife. She was to be his bride, the next Queen of Egypt.”
“Is she to marry Amenhotep now?” Tiy asked. Something flickered in her chest, a pinch of unease she couldn’t explain.
Petep shrugged.
Tiy glanced at Kepi again. She couldn’t decide if she should feel pity or contempt. How could she despise a girl who lost her entire future before it had ever begun? Then again, how could she feel any kindness toward a girl who behaved so venomously?
Kepi glanced back at Tiy and squinted before flashing a hand gesture that Tiy had seen only the roughest of boys use. And then she glanced at Menkheper—who hadn’t noticed her rude gesture—and smirked.
Tiy smirked back, for no other reason than to make Kepi think she hadn’t been bothered in the slightest. And to make herself feel better, at least a little.
“Just ignore her,” Petep said.
“I will,” Tiy said in a promise she wasn’t sure she could keep. Kepi was the sort of person who couldn’t be ignored.
“She just thinks she can do whatever she wants because she is Head of Class.”
Tiy raised an eyebrow.
“She has earned the best marks for her class work,” Petep explained.
Tiy nodded. Not only was Kepi beautiful, rich, and had the devotion of most the class, but she was smart too. It didn’t seem fair.
“Amenhotep has not yet returned from Nubia,” Petep whispered. “The war is going well, I hear, so he and my father should return soon. In fact, they may be on their way home now. Those wretched Nubians won’t put up much of a fight. Pharaoh’s army will crush them.”
Tiy’s eyes widened at the forceful words coming from such a delicate mouth. Petep ducked her head and smiled.
“At least that is what my brother said,” she clarified with a nervous giggle. “I don’t know much about politics.”
Menkheper stood again and the class hushed as he began a lesson in arithmetic. Tiy raised her reed pen and set to work solving the mathematic passages. She was still behind the classmates close to her age, but she was closer to reaching their level in arithmetic than she was in writing. Practice was all she needed to catch up, she decided, so she wasn’t too worried. She could be very disciplined when she wanted to be, and she wanted nothing more than to knock Kepi off her “Head of Class” throne.
Chapter 11. Nothing of Love
The remainder of the school day disappeared behind numbers and shapes, symbols and inscriptions. Tiy was anxious to return to Nebetya. She’d overheard some of the students talking about Pharaoh’s house welcoming the Mitannian bride and hoped Nebetya would have details of how the foreigner was being received among the royal servants.
Nebetya jumped up when Tiy entered her chambers. “You’ll never believe what I heard today,” Nebetya said. “The royal servants are so chatty.”
Tiy plopped down on a cushion and leaned her elbows on her crossed legs. “Well, that is good, I suppose. Was it about the new queen?”
“No. Apparently Prince Amenhotep is returning from the Nubian rebellion early. The battle is getting out of hand, and Pharaoh Tuthmosis isn’t comfortable with the heir of Egypt being so close. Some of the servants think he is still sensitive about losing his eldest son in battle.”
“I thought he died in a bull hunt?”
Nebetya shook her head and lowered her voice. “It was all hushed up because the priests were afraid the Egyptian people might believe the royal line was weak.”
“Why?”
“The prince died in the first conflict he led.”
Tiy’s mouth formed a circle. The pharaoh was the people’s protector. If the heir died in his first conflict, it meant the gods were unhappy with the kingship. And if they weren’t satisfied, they wouldn’t bestow the power and protection Pharaoh needed to rule and protect.
“It couldn’t have been in Nubia,” Tiy said. “The rebels have barely begun causing trouble, but I don’t remember hearing about any other battles.”
Nebetya nodded. “Exactly. No one was supposed to know about this one.”
“Where was it?”
“In Mitanni.”
Tiy choked on absolutely nothing and gasped for air. Her ancestors had come from Mitanni. Pharaoh Tuthmosis must hate her.
“What is it?” Nebetya asked alarmed.
Tiy cast her eyes to the ground.
“Oh.” Nebetya said, her eyes filling with understanding. “None of the servants have said anything about you. Trust me. They wouldn’t have been afraid to speak their minds. Besides, don’t you remember, their new queen is a Mitannian princess?”
“I remember, but that doesn’t change the fact that a Mitannian soldier killed the heir to Egypt’s Double Crown.”
“Well, I guess they have worked out an agreement. When the Mitannian King heard the prince had been killed he was supposedly so afraid Pharaoh would send his entire army to revenge his son’s death that he sent his daughter as a peace offering.”
“That’s horrible.” Tiy mumbled.
“It doesn’t matter. No one cares where your great-great-great-grandfather came from.”
“Kepi and her friends do.” And she thought she understood why Kepi hated her so much. Tiy had the same blood running through her veins as the people who killed her future as Queen.
“Who?” Nebetya said in a way that conveyed both surprise and anger.
“Just a girl in class.” Tiy said. She told her what happened in class. “She said I don’t belong here.”
“Is that what you think?”
Tiy shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, it’s not like I was invited to attend before I helped Amenhotep. I’m only here because Pharaoh said yes, although, I don’t think he thought I should come either.”
“You are an official’s daughter, are you not?”
“Yes, but—”
“And you are smart enough to keep up with the curriculum.”
“With some extra studying, yes, but—”
“But what, Tiy? Do you think that spoiled, pompous brat has more right than you?”
Tiy smiled. She couldn’t believe Nebetya called Kepi a pompous brat. Nebetya always said exactly what she thought, which was refreshing, but it got her into trouble more often than not.
Nebetya chuckled and the tension ebbed away. “You see,” she said. “What Kepi said is nothing to fret over.”
“You
’re right.”
Nebetya flashed her biggest smile and winked. “Of course I am.”
Once again Tiy was glad Nebetya had agreed to come with her. She was exactly what she needed.
“Now, about Prince Amenhotep’s arrival,” Nebetya said.
“What about it?”
Nebetya was the only living soul who knew about the short conversation she had shared with Amenhotep, and the only one who knew of her obsessive curiosity for him. Nebetya knew how much she wanted Amenhotep to be her friend.
Nebetya smirked. “What are you going to wear?”
“It’s not like that Nebetya. We are just friends. At least, I hope we are friends.”
Nebetya pressed her lips into a thin line. “Tiy, you followed him into the desert.”
“I don’t know why I did that. It just felt like what I needed to do. And it turned out to be a good thing that I did.”
“Are you telling me that when you considered Kepi might be his future bride, you weren’t the tiniest bit jealous?”
Tiy’s laugh came out as a bark. “Jealous? More like pity for Amenhotep. Although, she is beautiful.”
“You mentioned that.”
“And I also said that I don’t have feelings for Amenhotep. I’m too young!”
Nebetya raised her eyebrows. “You don’t think you can fall in love at your age?”
“No.”
Nebetya huffed as she got up to turn the blankets down on Tiy’s bed “What do you know of love?”
Tiy didn’t respond. She didn’t think Nebetya’s question warranted an answer. Besides, she knew nothing of love, which was why she knew her curiosity for Amenhotep was innocent. She wanted to be his friend, that was all. Something about him made her feel comfortable, relaxed. After all, she had joked with him the first time they had spoken. Not the awkward conversation in which she pointed to the sky and muttered like a tongue-tied giraffe, but the conversation they’d shared when she’d told him he would turn into an eighty year old with crooked teeth and a hairy back! Just thinking about it made her smile and cringe at the same time. What was it about him that made her feel so at ease?
She knew she hid a little of herself from everyone. Even Nebetya received half truths sometimes. Not lies, just no more than she thought anyone needed to know. There was a wall, between her and others, a protection she held up like a shield. Others could get close, but not too close. She wanted just one friend with whom she could be her true self. And for reasons she didn’t fully understand, she wanted Amenhotep to be that friend.
Chapter 12. Sharp Lines
The season of Peret neared, and the weather grew colder every day. In preparation, Nebetya pulled Tiy’s longer kalasirises and warmer cloaks from her chests. Kepi had been unbearable in class and Petep had tried to compensate for her rudeness by being extra kind. Tiy appreciated her sweet gestures, especially since they were the only thing keeping her from begging her mother to let her return to Akhmim.
If Tiy thought Kepi was unbearable before Amenhotep’s arrival, she had a rude awakening upon his return. It was almost the first of Peret by the time he joined the class. Sunshine poured down from the cloudless sky, and Menkheper had taken the class outside to learn the art of archery. Several students clustered in small groups awaiting their turn with bows.
Tiy stood beneath a swaying palm and hugged her wooden writing board to her chest. Due to her stringent study habits, she had caught up with her classmates and had even surpassed them. Or perhaps it was her competitive nature that helped her push to the top. Either way, she was ahead of Kepi, which infuriated Kepi and brought Tiy immense pleasure.
No one else brought their wooden writing boards to archery, which embarrassed Tiy a little, but she told herself that everyone else had already had plenty of opportunities with a bow and arrow and didn’t need their wooden boards for notes. She refused to fall behind in any subject.
Amenhotep and Ramose strolled across the garden, and everyone stopped to watch. Kepi raised her chin in the air and with a proud tilt of her eyebrow, pranced toward him. She reached out to take hold of his arm with a smile. He regarded her with a polite nod, accepted her arm, and then continued his path toward the class, his conversation directed toward Ramose. Kepi stumbled at his side, so he slowed his long strides to match her smaller gait. Kepi couldn’t look more pleased with herself. She flicked her shining hair behind her shoulders and smirked at Tiy, a smirk that Tiy wanted to slap off her pretty little face.
Fortunately for Kepi, Tiy didn’t have to. Amenhotep strode up to a couple of boys their age and jabbed their shoulders with his fist. They laughed, happy to receive such casual attention from the prince. And then he did the most wonderful thing. Amenhotep caught Tiy’s gaze and walked over to her, jabbing her shoulder as well. She had never been so happy to be punched in all her life. It didn’t hurt, of course. It was nothing more than a friendly gesture. But it meant she was a buddy, just like his other friends. Kepi scowled and huffed off to her pack of hyena-friends, most likely looking for them to tell her how wonderful she was and how insignificant Tiy was.
Menkheper cleared his throat to regain the class’s attention. “Welcome back, Prince Amenhotep,” he said. “We are happy for your safe return.”
“I’m glad to be here,” Amenhotep said. He glanced at Tiy.
Menkheper bowed and then turned toward the students. “Young ones first. Please line up over here. Draw your bows to your ears.”
While healing, Tiy enjoyed watching the adorable four- and five-year-olds fumbling with their bows and accidentally sending their arrows into the trees. Nervous servants scurried about to retrieve the errant shafts, their heads ducking every few seconds. Encouraging the students as he explained proper technique, Menkheper urged them to try again. The six- and seven-year-old students were lining up when Amenhotep nudged her arm.
“Let’s go wait over there,” he said, pointing to a low garden wall.
Tiy nodded and followed him. Ramose, Petep and a muscular boy joined them as well. They lined themselves along the edge of the wall and dangled their feet above the ground.
“How was your journey from Akhmim?” Amenhotep asked her. They sat near the center of the group, their shoulders touching. The muscular boy sat on Tiy’s other side, watching them.
“Fine,” Tiy said. “I got a little wet.”
“Is that what we call near drowning these days?” he asked with a hint of a grin forming on his lips.
Tiy’s jaw dropped. “You heard?” She couldn’t believe it. She didn’t want to believe it.
He flashed a smile.
“Word travels fast,” Tiy mumbled.
“You have no idea. But, I was curious, so I asked Siese what really happened.”
“And what, may I ask, really happened?” Tiy folded her arms and tried to act perturbed, although she was far from it.
“He said you jumped in for a swim and got a little carried away.” He was biting his lip now, hiding a laugh.
“Oh, did he?” Tiy said, suppressing a smile of her own. “Well yes, I was going for a leisurely swim when a giant crocodile rolled me under the water with him. I thought he was just trying to dance, but it turns out he was trying to eat me. So rude. I said thanks, but no thanks, and got back on the barge.”
A burst of laughter broke from Amenhotep’s mouth. He clamped his lips shut, his eyes sparkling with enjoyment. “How nice of the crocodile to let you go.”
“Oh he didn’t have much of a choice. I sent my pet hippopotamus after him. Nothing to it.”
Amenhotep grinned, and they laughed. The muscular boy laughed too. Tiy couldn’t help but enjoy their silliness together. She almost dropped her wooden writing board, wondering why she had even brought it. She wasn’t even paying attention to anything Menkheper was saying. Holding the board in front of her chest, she relaxed a little on it. Did everyone feel so happy and wonderful around Amenhotep?
They spoke of silliness for the next half hour, giggling back and forth and telli
ng tales of exaggerated adventures. It was the most fun she’d had in a long time. Ramose and the muscular boy joined in when their laughter escalated enough to include everyone, but for the most part, Tiy and Amenhotep conversed as just the two of them.
Eventually, the girls Tiy’s age lined up. Tiy eyed the line, reluctant to join Kepi and her followers when she was having so much fun with Amenhotep on the wall.
Petep leaned forward and smiled at Tiy. “How about we take a trip to Giza during the school holiday tomorrow? Do you boys want to come?”
“Yes!” Amenhotep and the muscular boy answered in unison. They exchanged glances and laughed.
“We don’t have class tomorrow?” Tiy asked.
Petep’s eyes brightened. “Not for the rest of the week, for the closing of the Akhet season.”
Tiy furled her brow. Her old school never got holidays to celebrate the end of the seasons. They had the typical festival days off of school—Opening of the Year, Sokar Festival, Ipet Festival, and even the newer festival of Ptah.
The muscular boy nodded. “This may be our last chance to go this year,” he said.
“I don’t know,” Ramose said. “Maybe we should go somewhere else. Giza has been abandoned for years. We could run into trouble.”
Amenhotep slapped Ramose’s back. “Relax, old man. We need some excitement in our lives.”
Tiy smiled. Ramose couldn’t have been more than three or four years older than Amenhotep, certainly not an “old man” by any means. But by the grin on Ramose’s face, she didn’t think he minded the sentiment.
The muscular boy nudged Tiy’s shoulder and she turned to him, noting his boxy features and eager smile. He also appeared older by a year or two and had a square jaw and low brows. She gave him an open smile, and he seemed to accept it as permission to talk to her, not that he needed her permission.
“Have you ever been to Giza?” he asked.
“No. Have you?”
He grinned. “A dozen times. I can be your guide. I’m Merymose, by the way.”