means that we have to find longer routes for trading ivory, copper, and timber. It means that the Hittites profit from it first. But that is about to change,” I added. “Because Pharaoh Seti and Ramesses are going to take it back!”
Paser allowed himself a smile. “Yes.”
“Is there any news—”
“None.”
I waited for word every night, and on the twenty-seventh day of Choiak, Pharaoh’s army returned from Kadesh. Heralds ran ahead of the men with news of their victory and lists of the dead, and Merit awakened me before sunrise to say that Asha and Ramesses had both survived. From the window of the western sanctuary, I could see the priestesses of Hathor gathering at the quay. Their jeweled belts winked in the sun, and their open-fronted gowns revealed breasts that had been exquisitely hennaed. Aloli joined me at the window. “Aren’t you going to be a part of the celebration?” I asked.
“The High Priestess instructed that I stay here with you.”
“Why? Does she think I’ll run away?”
Aloli grinned slyly. “You wouldn’t?”
“No,” I said quietly. “I wouldn’t.” Below us, the priestesses were now crossing the river, and the bright turquoise sails of Hathor’s ships began to disappear beyond the sycamore groves. I turned to Aloli. “Do you remember the first time I came to this temple?”
“Of course. With your big green eyes you seemed a frightened cat. I didn’t think you were truly a princess.”
I was startled. “Why?”
“Because I knew the princess Nefertari was just fourteen, yet you looked like you were eight or nine.”
“But do you remember saying that you had heard about me?”
“Certainly.” Aloli crossed from the window and took her place at the harp. “I heard that you and Pharaoh Ramesses were fast friends. And when news of his marriage came, the court assumed that it would be you.”
“But I was only thirteen! And I’m the niece of the Heretic King.”
Aloli shrugged. “Everyone believed Pharaoh Ramesses would overlook that. No one imagined he would take a harem girl up the dais. So when you came to this temple we thought perhaps you didn’t want to be married.”
“No. I was never asked. As soon as Ramesses was crowned, Henuttawy went to Pharaoh Seti and spoke for Iset.” I told Aloli about Woserit’s theory, that she believed Henuttawy was helping Iset toward the crown in exchange for something. “But what could it be?”
“Power,” Aloli said quickly. “Gold. With both she could build the greatest temple in Thebes, bigger than Hathor’s. Pilgrims would go simply to see its magnificence.”
“Leaving their riches as offerings,” I agreed. I thought of Ramesses and felt my cheeks warm. “There is no one else I can imagine marrying besides Ramesses,” I admitted.
“Then it’s not enough to study harp,” she said. “If you are going to become Chief Wife, you will need to know how to please a man.” Aloli stood, and the silver bangles that jangled when she walked slid down her wrist. “The Temple of Isis was full of Henuttawy’s men,” she explained. “So long as they were wealthy, she welcomed anyone inside. Hittite, Assyrian . . . I learned more than how to please Isis in that temple. You should learn all the secrets that Henuttawy is teaching to Iset.”
I was embarrassed. “Such as?”
“Such as how to satisfy a man beneath his kilt. How to use your mouth to give him pleasure.” My eyes must have betrayed my thoughts because Aloli added, “You will be the difference between a Thebes ruled by Henuttawy and a Thebes ruled by Woserit.”
WHETHER FROM horror at that prospect, or love for Ramesses, I became the perfect student. I was never late, my work was never incomplete, and soon I could have sailed to Assyria and survived on my command of Akkadian alone. Paser didn’t see how this language came to me so quickly, but the truth was, everywhere I went I practiced; in the baths, around the courtyard—even at my mother’s shrine, I prayed to Mut in Akkadian. My harp lessons with Aloli also took on a new intensity, as if the priestess could will her own talent into my hands. With practice I became competent enough that if the queen ever called upon me at court, I would not embarrass myself in front of them. Iset had always prided herself on being talented at music, but now I saw that it was not so difficult with time and patience.
But it wasn’t the harp that kept me late each day in the eastern chamber. One day Merit remarked,