raised her brows. " None of your tutors?"
I shook my head.
"Then you still have much to learn, no matter how fluent your Hittite."
THAT EVENING, as I undressed for bed, my nurse remarked on my unusual silence.
"What? Not practicing languages, my lady?" She poured warm water from a pitcher into a bowl, then set out a cloth so I could wash my face.
"What is the point of practicing?" I asked. "When will I use them? Viziers learn languages, not spare princesses. And since a girl can't be a vizier . . ."
Merit scraped a stool across the tiles and sat next to me. She studied my face in the polished bronze, and no nurse could have been more different from her charge. Her bones were large, whereas mine were small, and Ramesses liked to say that whenever she was angry her neck swelled beneath her chin like a fat pelican's pouch. She carried her weight in her hips and her breasts, whereas I had no hips and breasts at all. She had been my nurse from the time my mother had died in childbirth, and I loved her as if she were my own mawat. Now, her gaze softened as she guessed at my troubles. "Ah." She sighed deeply. "This is because Ramesses is going to marry Iset."
I glanced at her in the mirror. "Then it's true? "
She shrugged. "There's been some talk in the palace." As she shifted her ample bottom on the stool, faience anklets jangled on her feet. "Of course, I had hopes that he was going to marry you."
"Me?" I thought of Woserit's words and stared at her. "But why?"
She took back my cloth and wrung it out in the bowl. "Because you are the daughter of a queen, no matter your relationship to the Heretic and his wife." She was referring to Nefertiti and her husband, Akhenaten, who had banished Egypt's gods and angered Amun. Their names were never spoken in Thebes. They were simply The Heretics, and even before I had understood what this meant, I had known that it was bad. Now, I tried to imagine Ramesses looking at me with his wide blue eyes, asking me to become his wife, and a warm flush crept over my body. Merit continued, "Your mother would have expected to see you married to a king."
"And if I don't marry?" After all, what if Ramesses didn't feel the same way about me as I felt about him?
"Then you will become a priestess. But you go every day to the Temple of Amun, and you've seen how the priestesses live," she said warningly, motioning for me to stand with her. "There wouldn't be any fine horses or chariots."
I raised my arms, and Merit took off my beaded dress. "Even if I were a High Priestess?"
Merit laughed. "Are you already planning for Henuttawy's death?"
I flushed. "Of course not."
"Well, you are thirteen. Nearly fourteen. It's time to decide your place in this palace."
"Why does everyone keep telling me this tonight?"
"Because a king's coronation changes everything."
I put on a fresh sheath, and when I climbed into bed, Merit looked down at me.
"You have eyes like Tefer," she said tenderly. "They practically glow in the lamplight." My spotted miw curled closer to me, and when Merit saw us together she smiled. "A pair of green-eyed beauties," she said.
"Not as beautiful as Iset."
Merit sat herself on the edge of my bed. "You are the equal of any girl in this palace."
I rolled my eyes and turned my face away. "You don't have to pretend. I know I'm nothing like Iset--"
"Iset is three years older than you. In a year or two, you will be a woman and will have grown into your body."
"Asha says I'll never grow, that I'll still be as short as Seti's dwarfs when I'm twenty."
Merit pushed her chin inward so that the pelican's pouch wagged angrily. "And what does Asha think he knows about dwarfs? You will be as tall and beautiful as Isis one day! And if not as tall," she added cautiously, "then at least as beautiful. What other girl in this palace has eyes like yours? They're as pretty as your mother's. And you have your aunt's smile."
"I'm nothing like my aunt," I said angrily.
But then, Merit had been raised
I shook my head.
"Then you still have much to learn, no matter how fluent your Hittite."
THAT EVENING, as I undressed for bed, my nurse remarked on my unusual silence.
"What? Not practicing languages, my lady?" She poured warm water from a pitcher into a bowl, then set out a cloth so I could wash my face.
"What is the point of practicing?" I asked. "When will I use them? Viziers learn languages, not spare princesses. And since a girl can't be a vizier . . ."
Merit scraped a stool across the tiles and sat next to me. She studied my face in the polished bronze, and no nurse could have been more different from her charge. Her bones were large, whereas mine were small, and Ramesses liked to say that whenever she was angry her neck swelled beneath her chin like a fat pelican's pouch. She carried her weight in her hips and her breasts, whereas I had no hips and breasts at all. She had been my nurse from the time my mother had died in childbirth, and I loved her as if she were my own mawat. Now, her gaze softened as she guessed at my troubles. "Ah." She sighed deeply. "This is because Ramesses is going to marry Iset."
I glanced at her in the mirror. "Then it's true? "
She shrugged. "There's been some talk in the palace." As she shifted her ample bottom on the stool, faience anklets jangled on her feet. "Of course, I had hopes that he was going to marry you."
"Me?" I thought of Woserit's words and stared at her. "But why?"
She took back my cloth and wrung it out in the bowl. "Because you are the daughter of a queen, no matter your relationship to the Heretic and his wife." She was referring to Nefertiti and her husband, Akhenaten, who had banished Egypt's gods and angered Amun. Their names were never spoken in Thebes. They were simply The Heretics, and even before I had understood what this meant, I had known that it was bad. Now, I tried to imagine Ramesses looking at me with his wide blue eyes, asking me to become his wife, and a warm flush crept over my body. Merit continued, "Your mother would have expected to see you married to a king."
"And if I don't marry?" After all, what if Ramesses didn't feel the same way about me as I felt about him?
"Then you will become a priestess. But you go every day to the Temple of Amun, and you've seen how the priestesses live," she said warningly, motioning for me to stand with her. "There wouldn't be any fine horses or chariots."
I raised my arms, and Merit took off my beaded dress. "Even if I were a High Priestess?"
Merit laughed. "Are you already planning for Henuttawy's death?"
I flushed. "Of course not."
"Well, you are thirteen. Nearly fourteen. It's time to decide your place in this palace."
"Why does everyone keep telling me this tonight?"
"Because a king's coronation changes everything."
I put on a fresh sheath, and when I climbed into bed, Merit looked down at me.
"You have eyes like Tefer," she said tenderly. "They practically glow in the lamplight." My spotted miw curled closer to me, and when Merit saw us together she smiled. "A pair of green-eyed beauties," she said.
"Not as beautiful as Iset."
Merit sat herself on the edge of my bed. "You are the equal of any girl in this palace."
I rolled my eyes and turned my face away. "You don't have to pretend. I know I'm nothing like Iset--"
"Iset is three years older than you. In a year or two, you will be a woman and will have grown into your body."
"Asha says I'll never grow, that I'll still be as short as Seti's dwarfs when I'm twenty."
Merit pushed her chin inward so that the pelican's pouch wagged angrily. "And what does Asha think he knows about dwarfs? You will be as tall and beautiful as Isis one day! And if not as tall," she added cautiously, "then at least as beautiful. What other girl in this palace has eyes like yours? They're as pretty as your mother's. And you have your aunt's smile."
"I'm nothing like my aunt," I said angrily.
But then, Merit had been raised
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