The Sekhmet Bed
figs.
     
    “ I had no idea this would happen,” Ahmose said, dejected.
     
    “ I know. It’s not your fault.”
     
    “ I went to see our mother. I asked her to take back her decision.”
     
    Mutnofret looked hopeful for a moment. Reluctantly, Ahmose shook her head.
     
    Mutnofret’s mouth turned down, but her eyes remained calm. “I’ve been crying for two days straight. I feel like a fool, but I can’t seem to stop.”
     
    Ahmose laid a hand atop her sister’s. “I don’t blame you, Nofret. I’d cry, too. I have cried, in truth. This is so unfair to you. I didn’t want this. Don’t want this; you must believe me. But I don’t know how to change it.”
     
    Mutnofret’s chin quivered, but no tears welled in her eyes. “I don’t know how to change it, either. I just wish I understood why.”
     
    “ It’s because of my stupid gift. My being god-chosen. Mother thinks it will make the priests and nobles accept Thutmose more readily, if a god-chosen wife stands behind his throne.” Best not to tell Mutnofret the rest of the queen’s reasoning.
     
    Mutnofret rolled her eyes. She pulled her hand out from under Ahmose’s. The gesture stung, but Ahmose chided herself. She’s hurting. Keep patience .
     
    “ Thutmose,” Mutnofret said. “You say his name with such familiarity. Have you met him before?” There was a considering, almost light-hearted note in her voice. Trying to take her mind off her anger, perhaps. Ahmose gladly went along. She told her sister of the forbidden night-time ride with the general.
     
    Nofret laughed, clapping her hands at the romance and mischief of it. Her pleasure seemed genuine. “So you think he’s a good man. And he has a taste for adventure, I see. At least that is something. It could have been worse, I suppose. I guess I’d rather be second wife of a good, brave man than first wife of a naked baby.”
     
    “ You must meet him soon, Nofret. I know you’ll love him.”
     
    “ Do you love him?” It was a startling question. Ahmose hadn’t considered it until now.
     
    “ I…I think I do,” she said, just to feed Mutnofret’s cheery mood. “At least, I found him to be…suitable. When we rode together.”
     
    “ Suitable! How like a queen you sound.” Mutnofret laughed again. There was no barb in her words, and, warming, Ahmose smiled tremulously.
     
    “ I don’t know how to be a queen, Nofret. Not like you do. I’ll need your help. I won’t be able to do it without you.”
     
    This time it was Mutnofret who took her sister’s hand. Their fingers intertwined. “I’ll be right behind you, Ahmose. When do you think I can meet your Thutmose?”
     
    “ Let’s send a message to him tonight. If luck is with us, we can see him tomorrow.”
     
     
     
    ***
     
     
     
    “ He’s not very handsome, is he?” Nofret whispered. “And how old is he? He looks thirty at least.”
     
    They waited beside the palace lake. A breeze stirred the surface of the water, cooling Ahmose’s skin, raising the scent of lotus. Tiny waves lapped at the raised stone lip of the reservoir. Thutmose walked toward them with a stride like a bull’s, purposeful and direct. A little ball of excitement rolled around in Ahmose’s stomach; she shrugged at Mutnofret’s words. She hadn’t considered whether Thutmose was handsome. He was just Thutmose, good at driving horses, strong and kind, with a jackal’s laugh.
     
    “ Good morning, Great Ladies.” Thutmose bowed lower than was necessary, one hand steadying his rather plain wig. He wore the simple white kilt of a soldier, falling in pleats to his knees. The only sign of his new status as Egypt’s heir was a brilliant Eye-of-Horus pectoral laid over his broad brown chest, gold set with cabochons of blue and red and green. “Shall we?” He indicated a small craft moored against the stone wall, a miniature version of the great pleasure barges that sailed the Nile. Food and flasks of wine were laid out on a low

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