“Yes, my Queen Nefertiti.”
THE NEXT DAY, Nefertiti found the door to Kiya’s chambers open, and so she stepped inside. In order to keep to her word and befriend the new royal wife as long as Kiya would refuse Amenhotep, she decided to pay Kiya a visit to try and befriend the quiet girl.
Nefertiti was greeted by Ainamun, Kiya’s head steward. “Chief royal wife Nefertiti, allow me to bring you to royal wife Kiya,” she said with a bow, then led her to Kiya in her sitting room, where papyrus scrolls were strewn all around her. Kiya sat in a chair with papyrus out in front of her and colored inks by her side. Ainamun bowed, then pulled up a second chair and left the two women alone.
“Chief royal wife Nefertiti,” Kiya said with a bow of her head. “May we leave formalities alone for the moment?”
Nefertiti sat in the second chair and nodded her head. She glanced at what Kiya was working on: an immaculate, hyper-realistic painting of Nefertiti’s children, Meritaten and Meketaten, with their wet nurse, playing in the courtyard.
“Oh Kiya,” Nefertiti said as she reached out as if to touch it. In awe, her mouth hung ajar. “They look as if they were right here in the room with us.”
“I’ve had a long time to perfect the techniques of painting,” Kiya said, blushing.
“I can see,” Nefertiti said as her fingers debated on whether to touch it or not. “I want all of my children to be remembered like this.”
“What do you mean?” Kiya said. “Meritaten and Meketaten are all of your children.”
A sly smile slid across Nefertiti’s face. “You clever girl. You made this painting just so I would forget my place,” she said with a chuckle.
Kiya laughed. “I did not!”
Nefertiti’s face glowed. “I am with child, Kiya!”
Kiya’s laughter dried up. “I’m so happy for you.” Kiya put her brush down and forced a smile. “Do you know if it is a son or daughter?”
“The doctors had me perform the seed test,” she said, referring to the Egyptian custom in which the woman relieves herself over wheat and barley seeds to confirm pregnancy. “The barley seed sprouted quickly, which the doctors assure me means it will be a son.” Nefertiti’s hands came together in front of her chest. “Praise be to Amun-Re,” she whispered.
“Secretly . . .” she told Kiya, and Kiya leaned in. “I have been praying I could provide the heir to the throne soon to make Amenho . . . Pharaoh happy.”
She’d almost uttered Amenhotep’s name out of habit. I have to remember his name is Pharaoh when there are others around, she chided herself.
“I am sure Pharaoh will be happy whether it is a son or daughter,” Kiya said as she picked her brush back up and resumed painting. “He will love them the same.”
“I know he will. It’s just . . . I know he also wants an heir,” Nefertiti said as she unconsciously rubbed her belly.
“You are both young. You will have an heir in time,” Kiya reassured her as she fixed the sunlight on Meketaten’s nose.
“Thank you, Kiya. Pharaoh was right about you.”
“What do you mean? What did he say about me?” Kiya asked with a fluttering chest.
“He said you were a good person to talk to when his father made him feel unloved.”
Kiya smiled at the memory. “He was my only friend. But then, he and Kasmut . . .” Her voice trailed off, and then she stated, “He made me feel less lonely.”
“I do not wish for you to be lonely.” Nefertiti realized this girl truly was telling the truth to her that day in the palace halls. All she wanted was someone to talk to. “Especially when you have this gift to share!” Nefertiti gestured to the artful masterpiece of Meritaten and Meketaten.
“I don’t know if Pharaoh told you this, but my father forbade me to paint,” she said as she lowered the tip of her reed brush, remembering her father’s words. “It is . . . not becoming of a princess.”
“Why? This painting is unlike anything I have ever seen,” Nefertiti said.
“Painting is a servant’s trade,” Kiya said. Her shoulders slumped and her eyes dropped to the floor.
“In Egypt, we have famous artists,” Nefertiti said, trying to raise her spirits.
“Yes, but none of them are royal, are they?”
“Well, no, but if you love to do it and you are painting in a way that has not been done before . . .” Nefertiti stood up. “I want my family to be remembered like this!” she exclaimed, pointing to the painting of her girls. Kiya tried to get in a word, but Nefertiti exclaimed again, “I must bring this to Amenhotep!”
She grabbed the painting off of the easel, but Kiya grabbed her wrists. “It’s wet!”
“Oh!” Nefertiti dropped the painting and stepped backward.
Kiya caught the corner and placed it back on the easel.
“What about the others? May I take one of them?” Nefertiti asked as she wiped her hand on the cloth lying on the back of Kiya’s chair.
Kiya handed her one of the rolls on the floor. “Here is one of Meritaten.”
Nefertiti unrolled it and let out an appreciative sigh. “This is wonderful, Kiya! I will show Amenho . . . Pharaoh, and let him know my request to have our images in stone represent us more like this!”
Kiya beamed at the chance she could finally mean something to someone, to succeed instead of fail. As Nefertiti turned to leave, Kiya grabbed her wrist for a second time. “Wait!”
“What is it, Kiya?”
Kiya had no response. Even though jealousy overtook her mind at times, she was thankful Nefertiti had kept her word and made her feel wanted. So instead of a reply, she jumped into an embrace with her newfound friend
Nefertiti’s arms froze straight down at her sides and her shoulders raised past her neck. “What are you doing?” she whispered.
Kiya pulled back with watery eyes and said, “Thank you for believing in my paintings.”
Nefertiti nodded and patted her cheek like she would do with her younger sisters when she lived at home. “You have done a job worthy of presentation to Amun-Re’s appointed,” she said, and watched the light grow even brighter in Kiya’s eyes. With that, she turned to leave and show Amenhotep.
WHEN AMENHOTEP SAW THE PAINTING, he fell in love with it as well. He summoned his royal scribe, along with Kiya. When they both had arrived in the throne room, Amenhotep declared, “Pharaoh and his royal family shall be captured in stone like this realistic painting. Thus Pharaoh says.”
CHAPTER 12
THE TIME OF THE ATEN
Watching his wife regain her breath, Amenhotep sat back while the servants removed the stick from her mouth and wiped the sweat from her brow. He wondered at how Nefertiti seemed to grow in beauty each day when other women waned. He could not resist reaching out and cupping her face in his hands. He gazed into her eyes, then gently placed his lips on hers.
The baby’s soft cries rose in the cool morning air as the midwives prayed to the two small statues of the god Bes and goddess Tawaret beside Nefertiti to vanquish any evil waiting to overtake the baby and new mother.
Nefertiti smiled, closing her eyes, and leaned back into her maidservants’ arms as they lowered her to the cot next to the birthing chair.
Kiya was there to take her hand, beaming at her friend, the Queen, for allowing her to watch the birth of the princess.
Pharaoh Amenhotep knelt and clasped Nefertiti’s other hand. “Bring my child,” he ordered one of Nefertiti’s nearby servants.
Aitye, having wiped the babe with a cloth, held the new child up for Pharaoh to see. “Pharaoh’s daughter,” she said with a bow, the baby outstretched in her arms.
Nefertiti’s eyes watered at that word—daughter—but she forced a smile and a heavy, breathless laugh. I was so sure Amun-Re would grant us a boy, she thought. The seed test proved it would be a boy!
At Aitye’s pronouncement, Amenhotep’s face fell slack, but only for a moment, before he exclaimed to all, “My third daughter is a blessing from the Aten!”
/> He will still love this daughter the same as the others, she thought, again forcing a smile. Just as Kiya said. She opened her eyes to look upon her new child. “What will we name her?”
“It is morning now, and not only morning, but the first morning of the new year. She has the whole of the day and the whole of the year to grow and to live. We shall name her Ankhesenpaaten: ‘She who lives through the Aten,’ ” he said as he grabbed the baby from Aitye’s arms. Holding the new baby girl, one hand cupped behind her back and head and one under her rear, he declared to her, “Ankhesenpaaten, you will be a great woman in your day.”
The little baby’s cries became louder. Aitye motioned for him to hand her back. She wrapped Ankhesenpaaten tightly in the cloth, and her soft cries turned into soft snores.
Nefertiti motioned that she be allowed to hold her baby, and Aitye brought the child to her. Amenhotep helped Nefertiti sit up as the maidservants propped her up with blankets. Holding her baby girl, Nefertiti traced the outline of her forehead down to the tip of her nose.
“She is perfect,” she whispered.
“As is her mother,” Amenhotep whispered in Nefertiti’s ear, bringing forth a bigger smile. He kissed the top of her bald head and kissed Ankhesenpaaten’s forehead.
Kiya, smiling at the two, went out of the room to leave them to their new daughter.
After a few moments of adoration, Amenhotep murmured to Nefertiti, “When your body heals and you are ready, I would like to try again for a boy.”
“I know,” she whispered back. “I can understand your disappointment with another daughter . . .”
“I am not disappointed,” Amenhotep said, almost believing his lie. “Ankhesenpaaten is a beautiful reincarnation of her mother, as are her two elder sisters. How can I be disappointed with all of the beauty that surrounds me?”
“I can see it in your face, my love,” Nefertiti said. “Just remember, your mother and father had three daughters before they had your brother and you.”
At this, he laughed. “This is true, my love. Perhaps we shall be as lucky!”
BEFORE THE YEAR ENDED, Meryptah, First Prophet of Amun, succumbed to his failing health. Sadness swept the city of Waset, closely followed by panic: the link between the people of Egypt and Amun-Re had been severed. Anen was supposed to take his place, but he too had also passed. Now only Maya remained as Second Prophet. He was the only logical choice to become First Prophet—but without his tenure in Amun-Re’s presence, the people feared he would not be an effective high priest. The people had forgotten Pharaoh as the highest priest of Amun, his divinely appointed.
Queen Tiye said to her son, before they entered the throne room to be seen by the people, “Amenhotep, remember: formality for the position of Pharaoh gives dignity and authority to his word. You have been slack in your words and actions. Make sure the people know you are Pharaoh, and Pharaoh will correct this crisis.” She touched his cheek and smiled.
Amenhotep smiled back, but his eyes faded at the remembrance of his father, the Magnificent King. “Mother, do you still believe Thutmose would have been a greater Pharaoh than me, as Father did?”
Nefertiti, who stood next to him, immediately averted her eyes at the potential awkwardness the response to his question would bring.
Queen Tiye’s jaw slightly dropped at the question, but she simply responded, “We prepared Thutmose much more than you, so yes, I do believe he would have been a better Pharaoh. Does that mean I think you will never reach the same height as he would have or as your father did? No. I believe you will do great and wondrous things that perhaps Thutmose could not have done.”
She adjusted the white Hedjet crown on his head to where it sat perfectly in line with his long face.
“I know your father compared you and Thutmose all of your life, Amenhotep,” she said, unusually struggling to find her next words before finally spitting out, “He . . . he could never accept you as you were. Son, please, as your mother and as the great royal wife, my only request is this . . . if Nefertiti ever comes to you with a concern about you and one of your children, you do not threaten to strip her title should she ever dare to bring it up again.”
Amenhotep’s eyes fully opened, and finally, after all this time, he could see his true mother standing in front of him. His heart beat so fast that he felt weak, and at last, when no words could come to his tongue, he threw his arms around her and buried his head into her shoulder. To his surprise, instead of scolding him for his affection, she enclosed him in her arms. She let out a heavy sigh of relief as the tension she had held in her shoulders for almost two decades melted away.
Nefertiti shrugged her shoulders and wrapped her arms as far as they would go around the both of them. She was a part of this family now.
Amenhotep took one arm and enclosed Nefertiti into the circle. He lifted his head and looked first to his mother and then to Nefertiti. His smile, full of content, told them what he thought. Nefertiti laughed and rubbed his shoulder as he released his embrace.
Queen Tiye adjusted his Hedjet again since it had fallen slightly to the side when he hugged her. “Shall we?” she asked, motioning for Amenhotep to lead them into the throne room.
“Pharaoh shall,” he said with a grin as he led them into the throne room. Queen Tiye followed as her title of great royal wife bore a higher rank than that of Nefertiti.
Amenhotep sat on his golden throne of splendor and Tiye and Nefertiti took their respective seats on his right and on his left.
The messenger spoke: “Great Pharaoh of Egypt, the people suffer now as Meryptah, First Prophet of Amun, has passed from this life.”
“Pharaoh does not wish the people of Egypt to suffer,” Amenhotep said. “As Egypt goes into the next year, let it be known Pharaoh will provide for his people when the priesthood of Amun left them without a link to Amun-Re.”
Amenhotep paused for dramatic effect, thinking to himself, Father, these next moments are for you. I will make you proud of me. Thutmose could not have done what I am about to do because he wouldn’t have believed in the Aten. I believe in the Aten, and he will see me through. Turning Egypt to the Aten will be my legacy.
“Because the priesthood of Amun-Re cannot recover from the loss of Anen, the Second Prophet of Amun, and Meryptah, the First Prophet of Amun, the Great Pharaoh of Mighty Egypt will intervene,” Amenhotep bellowed.
The mass that had gathered to hear what the Pharaoh would say silenced every breath, whisper, and movement.
“The time of Amun-Re has passed, and it is now the time of the Aten,” Amenhotep said, surveying the wide eyes that returned his stare. He continued unwaveringly, “The premiere god of Egypt shall now be the Aten, the sun-disc, the Light of Egypt. The Aten has long been Pharaoh’s personal god as well as the Pharaoh before. Because of this, all Pharaohs now passed are embodied in the Aten. Therefore, Pharaoh, the son of the Pharaoh before, is now the son of the Aten, thus Pharaoh will now be the sole link between the people and the Aten.”
As his words sank in with his subjects, he slowly but forcefully stated, “Thus Pharaoh says.”
CHAPTER 13
THE TIME OF REBELLION
As word of Pharaoh’s edict spread, the people of Egypt arose and protested in the streets. Amun-Re, their King of Gods, their God of Gods, now usurped by his own appointed, the Pharaoh of Egypt, and replaced by the Aten, a small aspect of Re, not a god by their perspective, but only the sun-disc in the sky? Pharaoh, in one swift command, had overturned centuries of their traditional faith, and the greater of Egypt would not have it!
Nefertiti’s fears of the people rising up against them were coming true. She looked out of their window as the sun waned on the horizon and the torchlights came out to surround the palace at Malkata. Thus the new year began in conflict.
Nefertiti stared out at the growing torchlights as the Aten disappeared for the night beyond the far palace’s wall. “I am afraid, Amenhotep. What if the royal guard turns against us? What if they can’t keep th
e mobs at bay?”
Amenhotep came and wrapped his arms around her chest. “We haven’t much to fear, my love. My father’s incessant expansions of Malkata will keep the people at bay.” The undertone in his voice juggled between hate and admiration of his father’s accomplishments.
Nefertiti only closed her eyes, wishing her husband was right.
At her silence, he continued, “The royal guard has sworn their life to Pharaoh, and if they go against their own word, Anubis will deny them entrance to eternal life. They will die keeping us safe. So far, there has been no bloodshed, just angry Egyptians, and I pray to the Aten the peace will continue. Now let us sleep. Huy has assured me he would wake me if the situation outside the palace turns violent.”
“I can see Pharaoh’s power is not what it should be,” Nefertiti said. “If power remained with Pharaoh, there would be no protest.”
“Yes . . . the priesthood is revolting, and the people follow the priesthood. Perhaps we were too late.” Amenhotep pulled his wife away from the window.
“Perhaps,” Nefertiti said.
“I know so. Huy made me aware that my sister Nebetah and her husband Pawah are leading the protests most likely at the order of First Prophet of Amun, Maya, but he could not be sure about the priesthood’s involvement. I should have Nebetah and Pawah exiled for leaving the sanctuary of Sitamun as my father ordered, but I am afraid it would make matters worse,” Amenhotep said. “At least Sitamun and Iset remain neutral.”
“The great nation of Egypt is split in two: those who follow the Pharaoh and those who follow Amun,” Nefertiti said as he pulled her into bed. “Rumor has it that whoever wins this conflict—Pharaoh or the people—will determine which god shall be the premiere god.”
“Yes, and we will prevail. But my love, let us think about this tomorrow,” he said, tracing his finger to smooth the worry lines in her brow. “Tomorrow is another day. Let us sleep and not worry tonight, for it may be the last good night’s sleep we get for some time.”
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