“He has the strength of a warrior and the soul of a priest.”
She laughed. “You are extremely ambitious. If you had to choose, would it be the warrior or the priest?”
“The soul is more important.”
“In all honesty?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“You are not like other young women,” she exclaimed.
“Life without faith is barren,” I said.
“What is faith without life?”
“There is no faith without life, and no life without faith.”
She remained silent for a while as I struggled to hide my rising excitement.
“Have you seen the crown prince?” she asked at last.
“At the Sed festival, my Queen.”
“What do you think of him?”
“He has a mysterious power that distinguishes him from all other men.”
“I meant, what would you think of him as a husband?”
I was silenced by the surprise. She repeated her question.
“I cannot find the words, my Queen,” I replied, my voice trembling.
“Did you ever dream of being a queen?”
“My dreams have only risen as high as my humble heart.”
“Doesn't the idea of the throne fascinate you?”
“It is a sky too high for my heart to fly in.”
Tiye was silent for a moment. “I have chosen you as a wife for my son, the crown prince.”
I closed my eyes under the intensity of my emotions. Pulling myself together again, I said, “But the prince doesn't know me, and he's not interested in me.”
“But he abides by my wishes. I am his mother, and he loves me above all else,” she said proudly. “It is impor tant for me to find him a suitable wife. When I saw you I felt that you were his match. I heed my inner feelings just as much as I heed reason.” I was still silenced and overwhelmed. She continued, “But you must remember that as a queen, your duties will come before all else.”
“I hope to rise to your expectations, my Queen.”
“Promise me your unconditional loyalty,” she demanded in a penetrating voice.
“I do,” I replied, unaware of the extent of my commitment.
“I am sure that you will honor your word.”
I could hardly think for joy and gratitude. But the moment I bid the queen farewell and left her chamber, I felt as though my hands were bound in shackles bearing her royal signet. She was a power I could never disregard. I remembered the crown prince and knew that the greatness of his soul would not make him any more appealing as a husband. I realized that I would pay a very high price for glory.
The news was like a thunderbolt to my family. I realize, of course, that Mutnedjmet must have been very bitter, and that Tey probably shared some of that. But still it was joyful news for everyone in the family. My fortune had lifted me to the throne of Egypt, but it had also elevated them to the rank of royalty. Because of that, they showered me with kisses and good wishes. I recalled the prophecy of the old man, and shuddered as I realized that it had in part come true. I wondered if Mutnedjmet, too, would sit on the throne of Egypt. Perhaps she also remembered the prophecy and found some solace in it. “Today, your mother will rest peacefully in her tomb,” my father said when we were alone in his room.
“I hope so,” I said sadly.
“You do not seem happy, my daughter,” he said with a smile and a keen look.
“Reality is more frightening than imagination,” I said earnestly.
“Fate could not grant you a better chance for happiness.”
“Are you certain, Father, that I shall be happy?”
“The throne will bring you glory, but happiness is only in the heart.”
“I believe you, Father.”
“I shall pray that you will be both glorious and happy.”
The marriage took place with unusual haste. The celebration held in the palace was worthy of the great king Amenhotep III and his love of worldly pleasures. Tiye took me to the golden room and sat me on the royal bed, shimmering with gold. I wore a sheer dress with my body naked beneath. The crown prince appeared at the door as the light from the torches danced on the walls. He removed his cloak and approached me in a sheer loincloth, his eyes gleaming. He motioned to me to stand on the bed and held my legs to his chest.
“You are the sun of my life,” he whispered. My soul delighted in his presence, but my body cringed. He continued, “I fell in love with you at the Sed festival. That night I hurried to my mother and told her I wanted to make you my wife.” He laughed joyfully. “At first she denied me my request. She did not want me to marry a girl with no royal blood. When I reminded her that neither was she of royal blood, she feigned anger and dismissed the subject. The next thing she told me was that she had met with you-and she gave me her approval.”
I recalled how Tiye had claimed that my marriage to the crown prince was her idea. I hid my smile. I felt as though I was expected to speak. I wanted what I said to be the truth.
“I believed in your God before I even saw you.”
“What joy!” he cried. “You heard from Ay?”
I nodded. “You are the first woman to believe, Nefertiti,” he said.
I wanted to speak to him longer, to delay the moment when we would lie together. “I want to be the first to sing hymns in his temple.”
“I promise you that,” he whispered, and kissed me. “You shall bear me an heir to the throne.” Suddenly, all the magnificent emotions I had felt disappeared. All that remained was reticence and irritation.
We continued to walk our path together, both as man and wife and as believers. I delved further into the faith with him. His spirit engulfed me and filled me with so much light that I expected God might speak to me as he had spoken to him. As for my body, it convulsed silently every time he came near me. His seed grew inside me. I became pale and ill, as the child within me made a mockery of my beautiful, slender body. Akhenaten dwelled in the truth. He despised all lies and falsehood. I wondered how I would reply if he ever asked me, “Do you love me, Nefertiti?” I knew I could not find the courage to lie to him. I tried to be prepared. “Love will come in time,” I would tell him. I would ask his forgiveness and explain to him that he had taught me to love the truth. Perhaps it would have brought an end to my dreams even before I became queen. But he never asked.
One day Queen Tiye called for me, and as I approached her she looked at me closely. “You must mind your health,” she started. “You are carrying a precious life within you that will soon be part of the history of this country.”
“Pray for me, my Queen.”
“You have a long life ahead of you,” she said confidently. “Do not let fear control your mind.”
“Some things are not in the hands of people,” I replied.
“A queen is more than just ‘people.’” She heaved a sigh.
The queen was destroying my defenses. What a powerful woman she was, just as my father had always described her. My husband loved her dearly, and she regarded him as her sole property. Even after our marriage, I felt the weight of her shackles.
The news about the One God reached the priests and the strife began. During that time I had grown to know the extent of the power my husband possessed within his feeble body. I felt the strength of his spirit, and the intensity of his courage and determination.
“All the stones of the pyramids cannot move me from my position,” he said to me once.
“And I am with you,” I replied.
“Our God shall not forsake us,” he cried.
Even his mother could not persuade him to change his stand. One day, Tiye called me to her chamber. When I walked in I realized that this was perhaps the most important day in my life.
“Has the pregnancy distracted you from following the affairs of Thebes?” she asked.
“The affairs of Thebes are my affairs.” I was prepared for a battle.
“Did your kind words have no influence on your husband?” she asked.