Abruptly, I stand, causing my scepter to clatter to the stone floor of the dais. “Return at first light and you shall have my answer.”
I retreat to my personal rooms through a private panel connecting to the audience chamber. A flutter of servants follow me at Nedjem’s command, but I wave them away. I close the heavy wooden door behind me, and pull off my ceremonial wig, revealing my short hair. The layers of braids inlaid with faience beads and topped with an intricate gold crown make me hot and itchy. The fresh air from the courtyard feels impossibly good on my scalp, and I lie back on my crimson, emerald, and gold wooden chaise piled high with pillows.
A knock at the door surprises me. I’d told the servants and guards that I want to be alone, which generally means they’d bar anyone and everyone from approaching my chambers. Nedjem would see to that. Only one person would be permitted to pass.
“Come in, Senenmut,” I call out, not bothering to rise or scramble for my wig. He alone, of all my administrators and officials, sees me without all the trappings of my many roles. More than anyone else, he has seenme.
“Your Majesty.” He enters and gives me a little bow.
“Senenmut, there is no need for formality. It’s only you and me here.” I gesture for him to sit next to me on the chaise. This man is not only the chief administrator under my command and tutor to my daughter, he is my confidante and adviser in all things, loyal to me over all.
He lowers himself next to me, but his body does not relax. No matter how often I invite him to sit at my side, he’s never entirely comfortable so near to me. We do not talk for a long moment.
“Are you well?” he finally asks with concern.
“Not exactly. This riddle of how to handle the Kush uprising weighs upon me. I do not want to react the same way as we did last time.”
“I understand.”
“I’ve been asking myself what the Kush people want, besides the independence we obviously cannot give them. What is prompting them to rise up again? Might we approach this rebellion through some other means than the military force to which the generals always default?”
“They feel as though we are exploiting their resources as if they were Egyptians but not offering the benefits we provide our citizens in return,” he answers.
An elegant, simple solution presents itself to me. But it is one that would require a different tack. The military may not like it, but it might work.
“What if we treated the Kush gold and spices and precious goods as resources for which we trade rather than plunder? And bestow upon the Kush people some of the rights we give our people? While still keeping Kush as part of Egypt, of course.”
His thick eyebrows knit as he muses on my proposal. I study his face and torso, so familiar in some ways and so mysterious in others. His gently hooked nose, his dark golden skin, the dip of his hairline on his forehead, the muscular outline of his chest and arms under his linen robe. He is not handsome in the traditional sense, but his manner and intellect make him far more appealing than any other man in my circle.
“Why don’t you take a wife?” It’s an abrupt change of subject, but I ask the question I hear the servants mutter to each other, the question I’ve turned round and round in my own head. Egyptian men generally take wives as soon as they’re able economically and physically, even if their natural attraction tends toward other men. Lineage is legacy, and a man without heirs is a man who may not have an afterlife. “I could easily find you a beautiful, rich one,” I jest.
He doesn’t speak for a long moment. When he finally answers, he does not meet my gaze, which would be normal for anyone but him. “I have all that I could ever want serving at your side.”
“You needn’t say that, Senenmut. I thought we’d agreed some time ago that we would eschew formality and talk freely. How else would we accomplish anything for Egypt? We’d spend our hours in tiresome pleasantries,” I gently admonish him and then smile.
“I meant every word,” he answers, finally lifting his eyes to meet mine. In those deep brown depths, I see more than the esteem for a queen. I see the affection for a woman.
Does he mean what I think he means? My marital life until nowhas been at the whim of politics, and my sexual life has been ritualized and witnessed. For the first time, I wonder what my romantic futurecouldhold. While I can never marry again—it is forbidden—I have the ability to choose a partner or a lover. Might it be Senenmut?
Chapter Thirty-Six
1475BC
THEBES,EGYPT
I step into the antechamber to Amun’s space. I try to calm the spinning wheel of my thoughts, but the pressing needs of Upper and Lower Egypt plague my mind. Even though I’ve performed these rituals every morning for thousands of days, as my responsibilities increase daily, the intense focus the rites demand becomes difficult.
Only when my eyes adjust to the dim light do I realize that I am not alone in the antechamber. Frantic, I glance around for an object to grab, to strike out at the intruder into this sacred space. Before my fingers clasp around the base of a heavy torch, the face before me takes shape, and I relax. It is Senenmut.
“What in the name of Amun are you doing in here? You could be killed by the guards simply for stepping foot in the gods’ hallowed area,” I whisper. This alcove leads to Amun’s statue, where I undertake the ceremony to start a new day. No one is allowed in here except me, and in certain circumstances, the high priest.
“It is a risk I had to take, Hatshepsut,” he whispers back. “I need to get you out of here.”
“Before the morning ritual? How will the day begin without it?” I ask, shocked by his request. From time immemorial, every single day in Egypt has been prompted by the rites I’m about to perform. How can I dare to anger the gods—and prompt the withholding of the light of Ra—by not completing it? What will befall my people?
His brows knit in confusion and astonishment. He opens hismouth, then closes it again as if he thought better of the words he planned to say. “I feel certain the gods will understand thisonetime, and Ra will shine down on the Egyptian people today regardless. If I don’t get you out now, I worry that you won’t be able to perform the ceremony anyway. Ever again.”
“What do you mean?” I am immobile with bewilderment and, now, fear, but I don’t acquiesce.
