The queen was relieved with this line of thought that had come about as a result of her wisdom and inner conviction. Her former stubbornness disappeared, having persevered long and desperately, and now she was firmly resolved to confront the king with strength and sincerity.
She left the hall and returned to her royal chamber, and spent the remainder of the day in thought and contemplation. During the night her sleep was intermittent and fraught with torment, and she was desperate for noon to come, for that was when the king awoke after his busy night. Feeling no compunction, she walked confidently over to the king's quarters. Her unusual journey caused some commotion among the guards, and they saluted her.
“Where is His Majesty the King?” she asked one of them.
“In his private quarters, Your Majesty,” replied the man reverently.
She walked slowly to the room where the king spent time on his own, and passing through the large door, she found him sitting in the center of the room a good forty feet from the entrance. The chamber was filled with works of art and opulence of indescribable beauty. The king was not expecting to see her and it had been several days since they had last met. He rose to his feet in surprise and greeted her with a nervous smile, and motioned to her to sit down. “May the gods bring you happiness, Nitocris. If I had known you wanted to see me I would have come to you,” he said.
The queen sat silently and said to herself, “How does he know I did not want to meet him all this time?” then she directed her words to him. “I do not want to disturb you, Brother. I have no objection coming to you so long as it is duty which moves me.”
The king paid no attention to her words because he was feeling acutely distressed, for her coming and her expressionless face had moved him. “I am embarrassed, Nitocris,” he said.
She was surprised that he should say so. It had irked her slightly to see him so happy and in such good health, like a radiant flower, and despite her self-composure she was agitated. “Nothing hurts me more than your being embarrassed.”
It was the most delicate insinuation but it irritated him and changed his mood. He bit his lip and said, “Sister, men are subject to oppressive desires, and may fall prey to one of them.”
His admission struck cruelly at her pride and feelings, and she forgot about being reasonable and spoke honestly, “By the gods, it saddens me that you, Pharaoh, should complain of oppressive desires.”
The irascible king felt the sting of her words and was roused to anger. The blood rushed to his head, and he shot to his feet, his face boding evil. The queen was afraid that his anger at her would spoil the anger on behalf of which she had come, and she regretted what she had said. “It is you who drives me to say such things, Brother,” she said hopefully, “but that is not why I have come. Your anger no doubt will wax doubly when I tell you that I have come to you to discuss grave matters which touch upon the politics of the kingdom upon whose throne we sit together.”
He suppressed his rage and asked her in a quieter voice, “What is it you wish to speak about, Queen?”
The queen regretted that the tone of the conversation had not set a suitable atmosphere for her purpose, but she saw no way out. “The temple estates,” she said without further ado.
The king scowled. “Did you say the temple estates?” he yelled angrily. “I call them the priests’ estates.”
“May your will be done, Your Majesty. Changing the name changes nothing of the matter.”
“Do you not know that I hate to have that phrase repeated to me?”
“I am trying to do what others cannot. My intentions are good.”
The king shrugged his shoulders angrily. “And what is it you wish to say, my queen?” he asked.
“Khnumhotep requested to see me and I granted him an audience, I listened….”
He did not let her finish. “Is that what the man did?” he said irately.
The queen was dismayed. “Yes. Do you find anything in his behavior that deserves your wrath?”
“I certainly do,” roared the king. “He is a stubborn man. He refuses to do my bidding. I know he is loath to implement the decree. He is watching me, seeking to waylay me in the hope that he will succeed in revoking it by asking sometimes, though I have refused to listen to him, or by encouraging the priests to submit petitions, just as he urged them before to shout out his vile name. The crafty scheming prime minister is rushing blindly down the road of my enemies.”
She was appalled by his thinking and said, “You do the man an injustice. I believe him to be one of the throne's most loyal servants. He is exceedingly wise; his only intention is to forge harmony. Is it not natural that the man should be saddened at the loss of privileges that his institution acquired under the auspicious beneficence of our ancestors?”
Rage flared in the king's heart, for he could find no excuse for a person — who did not comply — with his orders openly or in secret, and he could not accept under any circumstance, that a person might see things differently than himself. Furiously, and in a voice full of bitter sarcasm, he said, “I see that the schemer was able to change your mind, Queen.”
“I was never of the opinion that the temple properties should be seized,” she said indignantly, “I do not see that it is necessary.”
The king's anger resurfaced and there was violence in his words. “Does it displease you that your wealth grows?”
How can he say that when he knows so well where that money is spent?
His words provoked her buried anger and her stifled fury and she flew into a rage and her feelings took control of her. “Every thinking person would be offended to see the land of the wise seized only for their revenues to be spent on frivolous pleasures.”
The king was beside himself and, gesturing threateningly with his hand, said, “Woe betide that scheming man. He would be tempted to sow discord between us.”
She was hurt. “You think in your own mind that I am a gullible child,” she said sadly.
“Woe betide him. He asked to meet the queen so he could talk to the woman concealed behind her royal attire.”
Mortified, she cried out to him, “My lord!”
But he continued, fuelled by his demonic rage, “You came, Nitocris, driven by jealousy, not by a desire for harmony.”
She felt a violent blow strike at her pride and her eyes misted over. Her pulse rang out in her ears and her limbs trembled. For a moment she could not speak. Then she said, “King, Khnum-hotep does not know anything about you that I do not know myself, and yet still he rushes to inform me. And if you think that it is jealousy that inspires me, then be under no illusion. I know, as everyone knows, that you have been throwing yourself into the arms of a dancer on the island of Biga for months.
In all that time have you ever seen me come after you, or try to stop you, or plead with you? And know that he who wishes to preach to a woman will slink back in failure, all he will find before him is Queen Nitocris.”
Pharaoh was incensed. “You are still spewing the burning ash of jealousy,” he said.
The queen stamped her foot on the floor and stood up in exasperation. “King,” she said resentfully, “it does not shame a queen that she be jealous of her husband, but it truly shames a king that he should squander the gold of his nation under the feet of a dancer, and expose his pure and unsullied throne to the malicious gossip of all and sundry.”