The Heretic Queen Read Free

with her friends, and viziers, and laughter. Women would never dare to whisper about me, for instead of being a spare princess, I'd be the princess.
    I took my place next to Woserit, and a prince from Hatti smiled across at me. The three long braids that only Hittites wore fell down his back, and as the guest of honor, his chair had been placed to the right of Henuttawy. Yet no one had remembered the Hittite custom of offering bread to the most important guest first. I took the untouched bowl and passed it to him.
    He was about to thank me when Henuttawy placed her slender hand on his arm and announced, "The court of Egypt is honored to host the prince of Hatti as a guest at my nephew's coronation."
    The viziers, along with everyone at the table, raised their cups, and when the prince made a slow reply in Hittite, Henuttawy laughed. But what the prince said hadn't been funny. His eyes searched the table for help, and when no one came to his aid, he looked at me.
    "He is saying that although this is a happy day," I translated, "he hopes that Pharaoh Seti will live for many years and not leave the throne of Lower Egypt to Ramesses too soon."
    Henuttawy paled, and at once I saw that I was wrong to have spoken.
    "Intelligent girl," the prince said in broken Egyptian.
    But Henuttawy narrowed her eyes. " Intelligent? Even a parrot can learn to imitate."
    "Come, Priestess. Nefertari is quite clever," Vizier Anemro offered. "No one else remembered to pass bread to the prince when he came to the table."
    "Of course she remembered," Henuttawy said sharply. "She probably learned it from her aunt. If I recall, the Heretic Queen liked the Hittites so much she invited them to Amarna where they brought us the plague. I'm surprised our brother even allows her to sit among us."
    Woserit frowned. "That was a long time ago. Nefertari can't help who her aunt was." She turned to me. "It's not important," she said kindly.
    "Really?" Henuttawy gloated. "Then why else would Ramesses consider marrying Iset and not our princess? " I lowered my cup, and Henuttawy continued. "Of course, I have no idea what Nefertari will do if she's not to become a wife of Ramesses. Maybe you could take her in, Woserit." Henuttawy looked to her younger sister, the High Priestess of the cow goddess Hathor. "I hear that your temple needs some good heifers."
    A few of the courtiers at our table snickered, and Henuttawy looked at me the way a snake looks at its dinner.
    Woserit cleared her throat. "I don't know why our brother puts up with you."
    Henuttawy held out her hand to the Hittite prince, and both of them stood to join the dancing. When the music began, Woserit leaned close to me. "You must be careful around my sister now. Henuttawy has many powerful friends in the palace, and she can ruin you in Thebes if that's what she wishes."
    "Because I translated for the prince?"
    "Because Henuttawy has an interest in seeing Iset become Chief Wife, and there has been talk that this was a role Ramesses might ask you to fill. Given your past, I should say it's unlikely, but my sister would still be more than happy to see you disappear. If you want to continue to survive in this palace, Nefertari, I suggest you think where your place in it will be. Ramesses's childhood ended tonight, and your friend Asha will enter the military soon. What will you do? You were born a princess and your mother was a queen. But when your mother died, so did your place in this court. You have no one to guide you, and that's why you're allowed to run around wild, hunting with the boys and tugging Ramesses's hair."
    I flushed. I had thought Woserit was on my side.
    "Oh, Pharaoh Seti thinks it is cute," she admitted. "And you are. But in two years that kind of behavior won't be so charming. And what will you do when you're twenty? Or thirty even? When the gold that you've inherited is spent, who will support you? Hasn't Paser ever spoken about this?"
    I steadied my lip with my teeth. "No."
    Woserit