The queen had had enough of her seclusion, she felt pressed by her hidden emotions and her obvious duty to emerge from her silence and long imprisonment. She could be patient no longer. She had convinced herself that her duty required her to do something, to make another attempt, and she wondered in her bemusement, “Shall I really go to this woman, impress her duty upon her, and ask her to save the king from the abyss toward which he is hurtling?” The very thought threw her into long and sad confusion, and she succumbed to frenzy and delirium. But she would not be distracted from her intention, and her determination grew stronger, like the flood surging downstream which cannot be turned back, but flows ever onward, turbulent, churning, and ferocious. And at the end of this dire struggle she said, “I shall go.”
The next morning she waited until the king had returned, then set off just before noon on one of the royal barges for the gilded white palace of Biga. She was touched by a mood of regret and dismay, for she had not put on royal attire and she was angry with herself for that. The barge berthed by the steps of the palace and she stepped out to be greeted by a slave. She told him that she was a visitor and wished to meet the mistress of the palace and he led her to the reception hall. The air was cold and the winter wind blew icy gusts through naked branches that looked like mummified arms. She sat down in the hall and waited alone. She felt uncomfortable, helpless. She tried to console herself by telling herself that it was right for the queen to sacrifice her pride for the sake of her sublime duty. As the waiting dragged on, she wondered uneasily if Rhadopis would leave her there awhile as she did with the men. She felt a twinge of anxiety and she regretted having been so hasty as to come to the palace of her rival.
A few minutes more passed before she heard the rustle of a garment. She raised her heavy head, and her eyes fell upon Rhadopis for the first time. There was no doubt it was Rhadopis, and Nitocris felt a burning pang of despair. Face-to-face with this devastating beauty, she forgot for a moment her troubles and the purpose of her visit. Rhadopis was taken unaware as well by the sedate beauty of the queen and her dignified demeanor.
They held out their hands to one another in greeting and Rhadopis sat down next to her imposing yet unknown guest, and finding her inclined to silence she addressed her in her musical voice, “You have alighted in your own palace.”
“Thank you,” replied the guest curtly in a deeply solemn voice.
Rhadopis smiled and said, “Would that our guest might permit us to know her noble personage?”
It was a natural enough question, but it irritated the queen as if she had not been expecting it, and she found herself with no alternative but to announce herself. “I am the queen,” she said calmly.
She looked at Rhadopis to see what effect her revelation had, and she saw the smile recede and her eyes shine with astonishment, and her breast swell up and stiffen, like a viper when it is attacked. The queen was not as calm as she appeared, for her heart had changed when she saw her rival. She felt her blood was on fire, scorching her veins, and she was filled with hatred. They had come face-to-face like two champions prepared for mortal combat. She was overcome with a feeling of bitterness deformed with anger and resentment. For a moment the queen forgot everything, save that she was looking at the woman who had plundered her happiness, and Rhadopis forgot everything, except that she was in front of the woman who shared her lover's name and throne.
Such was the atmosphere that charged their conversation from the beginning with anger and resentment, and set it on a regrettable and violent course. Moreover, the queen was displeased with her love rival's lack of respect. “Do you not know, woman, how to greet a queen?” she demanded indignantly.
Rhadopis sat frozen to the spot, a rush of violent agitation rocked her heart, and her pent-up rage almost exploded. But she controlled her nerves, for she knew another — way to extract her revenge, and drawing a smile on her lips she bowed her head as she sat — she had been sitting with her head resting on the back of the chair out of languor and contempt — and said in a tone not devoid of sarcasm, “This is indeed a momentous day, Your Majesty. My palace shall be remembered by posterity.”
The queen's face glowed with anger. “I could not agree more,” she said sharply. “Your palace will be remembered, but fondly on this occasion, and not as the people are wont to remember it.”
Rhadopis looked at her with a derision that veiled her wrath and exasperation. “Is not that an insult to the people? Are they to think ill of a palace where their lord and majesty pastures his heart and passion?”
The queen accepted this jibe gracefully and cast a meaningful glance at the courtesan. “Queens are not like other women,” she said, “occupying their hearts with love.”
“Is that so, Your Majesty? I thought the queen was a woman after all else.”
“That is because you have never been a queen, not for a single day,” said the queen with obvious irritation.
Rhadopis's breast filled up and turned to stone. “I beg your pardon, Your Majesty, but I am a queen.”
The queen glared at her curiously. “Are you indeed? And over which kingdom have you ruled?” she asked mockingly.
“Over the widest kingdom of all,” she said proudly, “over Pharaoh's heart.”
The queen felt painfully weak, and ashamed. She knew for certain that she had sunk down to the level of the dancer by entering with her into a fight. She had shed her raiment of glory and dignity to appear naked in the skin of a jealous woman, put on the defensive to win back her man, seizing her rival by the neck, plotting her downfall. As she looked at herself and her rival sitting next to her, arrogant and haughty, firing the arrow back into her own chest, boasting to her about her husband's love and authority, she felt queer and bewildered, and she wished it were all an unpleasant and ridiculous dream.
She suppressed her emotions completely, and burying them deep in her soul, quickly regained her natural aloofness. In place of the anger and resentment, blue blood flowed in her veins; not seeking to condemn just out of pride, and remembering the purpose of her visit, she resolved to pardon the courtesan for the way she had behaved.
She looked at Rhadopis, her face now reflecting both outer and inner calm, and said, “You did not receive your queen well, madam. Perhaps you misunderstood the purpose of my visit and became angry. Rest assured I did not come to your palace on a matter of personal business.”
Rhadopis was silent and shot her a look full of trepidation.
The queen's anger and resentment had not abated but she pushed them to one side and said calmly, “I have come, my lady, on far more important business, business that concerns the glorious throne of Egypt, and the peacefulness that should characterize the relations between the one on the throne and his subjects.”