Tiy and the Prince of Egypt (15 page)

The wedding day arrived much sooner than Tiy thought possible. The day had come when she would marry a god and become a goddess herself. She would be conferred with the powers of deity, blessed with their strength and wisdom. And yet she felt as insignificant as a field mouse.

Her mother and Nebetya
, along with a flurry of other servants, rushed around Tiy, painting her eyes with thick black kohl and green malachite, adding blue lapis-lazuli beads to her wig and bangles of gold to her wrists and ankles. After they had lathered her with myrrh oil and perfumes from Punt, they pulled her finest linen gown over her body. The servant girls worked with wide smiles as they transformed her into a queen.

A queen
. She couldn’t believe it. Within hours, she and Amenhotep would be united as King and Queen of Egypt, rulers of Upper and Lower Egypt. It was too much to swallow.

A
brawny servant entered her chamber with a large gilded chest on his back. Using the strength of his entire body, he lowered the chest to the ground as if it were a sleeping baby.

“A gift from His Majesty, Pharaoh Amenhotep,
to the Lady Tiy,” he said with pride.

Nebetya and
Tiy’s mother exchanged a look before turning their attention to the chest, their eyes sparkling with excitement.

“What do you think it could be
?” her mother asked. She sounded out of breath.

“
The gift could be the chest itself,” Tiy reasoned. “I have never seen a chest adorned with so many gems.” She caressed the emeralds and rubies, running a hand across the silver clasp. The metal had been formed into the shape of a bird, its wings tipped in black. “It is a generous gift on its own.”

“Just open it,”
her mother exclaimed with unbridled anticipation. She leaned onto her toes, her head bobbing up and down.

Tiy wished she
could tell her mother that the gift wasn’t a token of Amenhotep’s love—not because she wished to unburden the lie onto her mother, but because she wanted her to stop breathing like a woman about to give birth. Tiy didn’t think another woman ever existed who showed more enthusiasm for her daughter’s wedding, and she wondered if perhaps her mother never believed her capable of catching a husband, let alone a pharaoh.

But it
was all a lie. If her mother knew their marriage was a deep friendship and nothing more, she would be devastated, her hopes for grandchildren shattered. Tiy knew the gift was another way for Amenhotep to authenticate their actions, to give Egypt no doubt of their love for each other. Tiy knew that, but no one else ever would.

Tiy leaned forward to lift the clasp and her heart flipped in her chest.
What if there
was
something else inside? What would that mean? Nothing. It wouldn’t mean anything at all.

S
he opened the chest, expecting to see the flash of a gilded bottom, but was surprised to see a shimmer of delicate feathers. She grasped the soft white mound and pulled up until it cascaded into an exquisite gown.

The
room fell into a hush. Pure white feathers the length of her arm folded into one another, turning to black at the tips. Flecks of gold gave the gown an ethereal glow as each speck reflected what little light there was in the room. She wondered what effect the gold would have in the light of the sun. And she wondered why Amenhotep had given her such an exquisite gift.

It was clear he had put a lot of thought into the gown
, that it hadn’t been something one of his servants had chosen. The feathers spoke of Nekhbet, goddess of the desert, the gold whispering of Ra, the sun god. They were woven together, inseparable, the feathers protecting the gold, the gold enhancing the beauty of the feathers. Her body tingled.

Nebetya
assisted her into the gown, and Tiy shivered as it slipped over her skin like creamy milk. It was as if it belonged on her body alone and no other. Two long vulture wings of purest white enfolded her hips and thighs, their black tips meeting below her ankles. She was like the black-winged bird he spoke of. A belt of lapis-lazuli and gold wrapped around her waist, enhancing the natural curves of her body. Soft feathers caressed her chest and shoulders as they wove into one another to cover her small frame.

As
Nebetya slipped gold-leaf sandals on her feet, Tiy caught a reflection of herself in the polished bronze mirror. She couldn’t believe the girl looking back was her. The girl in the mirror was beautiful and full of grace, not the girl she had always thought herself to be.

Her
mother gushed over her, and Nebetya succumbed to tears—again—leaving the other servants to finish her preparations. Once they were satisfied that every hair was in place and every piece of jewelry polished, a pair of servants led her to a courtyard filled with the upper class of Egypt.

Amenhotep
jumped from his gilded chariot and extended a hand toward her. But as she reached to take his hand, he raised his other arm and enveloped her in a tight embrace. She buried her face into his neck, a gesture she hoped would exhibit her affection for Amenhotep and fortify their deception. But it felt so right to be close to him, so natural and far from a lie that it surprised her. She wished she had tried burying her face into his neck when there hadn’t been so many spectators. Maybe then she could have stayed for a while longer.

Amenhotep
took a deep breath before releasing her. “Your hair smells of jasmine.” He took hold of her hands. “But look at you! I have never seen your equal. I believe even the goddess of beauty may find reason to envy you.”

By the sudden heat in her face, Tiy was sure she had
turned crimson red. She glanced at those who had gathered around them. They all smiled at the blushing bride.

Amenhotep chuckled
. “Do you like the dress?” he asked, ignoring their audience.

Tiy
nodded. “It’s beautiful, thank you.”

“
You
make it look beautiful. The gods are smiling upon me today.”

Tiy
blushed again but found she enjoyed his praise, even if it was a show for the crowd.

“You are brighter than the sun, Amenhotep
,” she said, raising her voice so the crowd would be sure to hear. “It is I who the gods are smiling upon today.”

Amenhotep’s eyebrows drew closer for a moment and then smoothed. He
puffed his chest in pride and beamed at the crowd. Everyone clapped and shouted his name. Pulling Tiy to his side, he placed his hand on the small of her back and the crowd added her name to their shouts. Tiy leaned into Amenhotep, willing the attention back onto him.

He
glanced at her and chuckled. Without a word, he took her arm and led her to the chariot, kissing her hand before joining her on the platform.

“Have you had
enough attention?” he whispered in her ear.

She bit her lip, embar
rassed that he knew her so well. “Yes, I’ve had my fill, thank you.”

“You need to get used to it, my love. Your beauty outshines
all the rest. No one will bother looking my way ever again.”

Tiy
took a quick breath and searched his eyes.
My love.
Why did he use those words? No one was listening; there was no reason for him to continue the charade. He smiled at her before turning his attention toward the horses. With one more squeeze of her hand, he urged the team into an easy trot.

They
rode through the many temple pylons before leaving the palace grounds, nodding in acknowledgment toward the dignitaries and Egyptian nobility who had come to honor their union. Kepi stood among the dignified crowd, a scowl marring her beautiful face. Tiy pushed her image from her mind, unwilling to let Kepi’s negativity put a stain on the day.

T
he people of Egypt crowded the streets of Memphis. With shouts of joy and chants of blessings, they waved olive branches in the air and threw lotus blossoms into their path. Amenhotep guided the chariot with care and took his time greeting his people, grinning at Tiy and squeezing her hand when they called her name. She couldn’t believe how often they praised the desert goddess, Nekhbet in the same breath as praising her. For Egypt, it seemed, she was one and the same.

They
arrived at the processional colonnade hall of the Temple of Amun where the royal family awaited them. Pavement stones of gold and silver led them to the inner sanctuaries of the temple where images of the sun god were pressed into the soft metal. The priests of Amun greeted them with swinging orbs of incense.

Following Amenhotep’s example, Tiy knelt before the High Priest.
He bound their wrists together with a Nile reed and papyrus and then chanted from a wide scroll.

“
Horus and Seth are pacified, united through reed and papyrus. The balance of the Two Lands has been weighed. King of Upper and Lower Egypt, Amenhotep, son of Ra, beloved of Amun, King of the gods, and Lord of the Nile, given life, has been bound to Tiy. May she be forever youthful. The name of her father is Yuya. The name of her mother is Tuya. Order and balance has returned to the Two Lands. May the gods rejoice! May they accord them endless feasts and eternity on the throne of Horus. Rejoice the Two Lands of Egypt!”

Amenhotep and
Tiy arose from their knees, the papyrus and reed still binding their wrists together. With a little awkward maneuvering, they signed the scroll and returned to the chariot where Amenhotep set the horses on a path back toward the palace. They rode through the city of Memphis with their bound hands held up between them. Tiy was certain the jubilance of the people could be heard throughout the entire world.

The great Assembly Chamber
brimmed with celebrators already full of wine. Everyone paused their merrymaking as Amenhotep and Tiy strode across the floor to take their places on the Horus-thrones. A cheer arose, and Amenhotep nodded, his free hand lifted in greeting. Tiy mimicked his motions, feeling like an imposter with every nod.

Amenhotep leaned toward her and whispered in her ear. “It
’s official; you are contractually obligated to love me.” He pulled back so she could see his grin.

Tiy laughed, forgetting for a moment that he was King
, and she was Queen. “I could no sooner love you than chew on a rat’s tongue.”

Amenhotep raised a playful eyebr
ow. “I had no idea you enjoyed eating rat. Isn’t that something you should have disclosed before we wed? I’m not sure I can live with your disgusting habits.”

Tiy bit her lip to keep from laughing, “
But you are contractually obligated to love me.”

“
You’re right.” He leaned into his throne and closed his eyes, a pleasant smile on his lips.

She didn’t know how Amenhotep
managed it, but once again he had made her feel at ease, despite all the pairs of eyes flicking in their direction. She no longer felt an itch to flee the Horus thrones. She realized if there was ever a time when she could be sure she had made the right choice, it was as she watched Amenhotep relax into his throne with a smile that lit up his entire face. He didn’t seem to mind they were deceiving Egypt, and she knew in an instant that she didn’t mind either. How could she? She was sitting next to her best friend who grinned or winked at her every five seconds. Amenhotep was right—what better reason could there be to marry? Tiy smiled and settled in to enjoy the celebration.

After a
while, Amenhotep loosened the reeds binding their wrists and slid his hand into hers. She looked over at him, expecting he was trying to get her attention, but he seemed engrossed in the celebration. Musicians played their instruments as guests swept between and around one another in a merry dance. He smiled as spontaneous cheers and hurrahs broke through the music every so often.

As dinner was served, Amenhotep
gestured toward the high table. “Do you want to join the others, or would you rather take our meal here?’

Tiy glanced at the royal table with their families deep in boisterous conversations. It was clear they had already had too much wine because even her
father was laughing like a hyena.

“It seems they are enjoying themselves plenty without us.”

Amenhotep chuckled. “I didn’t realize your father was such an entertainer.”

“Neither did I. Do you mind if we stay here to eat?”

“Not at all, I was hoping you would want to stay here with me. I’m not ready to share you with Egypt yet.”

Amenhotep waved a hand and a small table
appeared before them. Succulent meats of duck, geese, beef and lamb steamed from golden platters as they were placed on the tables. As soon as Amenhotep took the first bite and declared it delicious, the entire hall erupted into a chorus of clinking cutlery and busy mouths. Caraway, coriander and rosemary thickened the air. Large, triangular loaves of bread dotted the tables as did jeweled bowls of beans, lentils, lettuce and cucumber. Tiy enjoyed the honeyed tigernuts and spiced figs the most, while her mother expressed audible enthusiasm for the sermet beer.

When the moon sat
high in the sky, Amenhotep stood from the Horus throne, crook and flail in hand, and waited for his people to quiet. The music ceased, the servants paused mid step, and even the wind seemed to quiet in order to hear the great King.