Nefertiti

Nefertiti Read Free Page A

Book: Nefertiti Read Free
Author: Michelle Moran
Tags: Historical fiction
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come, too.”
    “To the palace!” I exclaimed.
    “Mutny, when you’re Chief Wife, your family comes with you. Our father is the greatest vizier in the land. Our aunt is the queen. Who would dare to say no?”

    In the middle of the night, a long shadow lingered outside our room, then a servant entered, holding an oil lamp above Nefertiti’s head. I awoke at the brightness and saw my sister’s face in the golden light, perfect even in her sleep.
    “My lady?” our servant called, but Nefertiti didn’t stir. “My lady?” she called louder. She looked at me, and I shook Nefertiti awake. “My lady, the Vizier Ay would like to speak with you.”
    I sat up quickly. “Is something wrong?”
    But Nefertiti didn’t say a word. She stepped into her robe, taking an oil lamp down from the wall and sheltering the sputtering flame with her hand. “What’s happening?” I asked, but she didn’t reply. The door simply whispered shut in her wake. I waited up for my sister’s return, and by the time she came back, the moon was a yellow disk high in the sky. “Where were you?” I scrambled up on my pallet.
    “Father wanted to speak with me.”
    “Alone?” I challenged her. “And at night?”
    “When else are all the nosy servants asleep?”
    Then I knew at once. “He doesn’t want you to marry Amunhotep,” I said.
    Nefertiti rolled her shoulders, playing coy. “I’m not afraid of Kiya.”
    “It’s Vizier Panahesi he’s concerned about.”
    “I want to be Chief Wife, Mutnodjmet. I want to be Queen of Egypt the way my grandmother was Queen of Mitanni.”
    She sat down on her pallet and we were silent, illuminated only by the flame of the lamp she’d brought in.
    “And what did Father say?”
    She shrugged again.
    “Did he tell you what happened in the tombs?”
    “So he refused to kiss the jars,” she said dismissively. “What does that matter if in the end I’m sitting on the Horus throne? Amunhotep is going to be the Pharaoh of Egypt,” she added, as if this settled the matter. “And Father has already said yes.”
    “He said yes? ” I threw off my linen cover. “But he couldn’t have said yes. He said the prince was unstable. He swore he would never give a daughter to that man!”
    “And he changed his mind.” In the flickering candlelight, I saw her lie down and draw up the covers. “Will you find me some juice in the kitchens?” she asked.
    “It’s night,” I retorted, my voice tight with disapproval.
    “But I’m sick,” she reminded. “I have fever.”
    I hesitated.
    “Please, Mutny. Please .”
    I would go, but only because she had fever.

    The next morning, the tutors ended our lessons early. There was no sign of illness on Nefertiti. “But we shouldn’t tax her,” my father said.
    My mother disagreed. “These are all the lessons she will ever have if she’s to be married soon. She should learn what she can.”
    My mother, who had not been raised among nobility like my father’s first wife, knew the importance of an education, for she’d had to fight for hers when she was young and the daughter of a simple village priest. But my father turned his palm over.
    “What else is there for her to learn? She excels at languages, and she’s more proficient than the palace scribes at writing.”
    “She doesn’t know the healing herbs like Mutny,” my mother pointed out.
    I raised my chin, but my father only replied, “That is Mutnodjmet’s gift. Nefertiti has other skills.”
    We all looked at my sister, the center of attention in her short white sheath, her feet dangling in the lotus pools. Ranofer, the son of a local physician, had brought her flowers, a bunch of white lilies bound with twine. He was supposed to be my tutor, teaching me the secrets of medicine and herbs, but he spent more time watching my sister.
    “Nefertiti charms people,” my father said approvingly, “and the people she doesn’t charm she can easily outwit. What does she need with herbs and medicine

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