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Authors: Michelle Moran
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between the columns, and shaven-headed boys in loose robes appeared, holding incense and candles. I listened to the crowds outside the walls, still chanting Nefertiti’s name. If not for them, the only sound would have been trickling water and sandals slapping on stone.
“What happens now?” I whispered.
The general stepped back, and I noticed that his eyes were the shifting colors of sand. “Your sister will be taken to the sacred lake and anointed as coregent by the High Priest of Amun. Then she and the prince will be given the crook and flail of Egypt, and together they will reign.”
My father appeared. “Mutnodjmet, go and stand by your sister,” he instructed.
I went to Nefertiti. In the dim light of the temple, her skin shone like amber, and the lamps illuminated the gold around her neck. She glanced at me, and we both understood that the most important moment in our lives had come: After this ceremony, she would be Queen of Lower Egypt, and our family would ascend to immortality with her. Our names would be written in cartouches and public buildings from Luxor to Kush. We would be remembered in stone and assured a place with the gods for eternity.
Amunhotep ascended the dais holding Nefertiti’s hand in his. He was taller than any Pharaoh that had come before him, and there was more gold on his arms than in my parents’ entire treasury in Akhmim. The priests of Amun filed through the crowd, taking their places on the dais next to me, their bald heads like newly polished brass in the sun. I recognized the High Priest by his leopard robe, and when he came to stand before the new king, my sister passed Amunhotep a look full of meaning.
“Behold, Amun has called us together to exalt Amunhotep the Younger before the land,” the High Priest announced. “Amun has appointed Amunhotep to be Chief of Lower Egypt, and to administer the laws of her people for all his days.”
I could see the general from where I stood. He was watching my sister, and for some reason I felt disappointed.
“From Upper to Lower Egypt they have come. The Pharaoh of Egypt has declared that his son shall be made Pharaoh with him. The people have united to celebrate the new Pharaoh and his protector, Amun. From east to west there will be rejoicing. From north to south there will be celebration. Come.” The High Priest held up a golden vessel filled with oil. “Amun pours his blessing on you, Pharaoh of Egypt.” He poured the oil over Amunhotep’s head. “Amun pours his blessing on you, Queen of Egypt.”
The oil poured down Nefertiti’s new wig and dripped onto her best linen gown. But my sister didn’t flinch. She was queen. There would be many more gowns.
“Amun takes you by the hand and leads you to the sacred waters that shall wash you clean and make you new.” He led them into the sacred pool, where he laid them back and the oil was washed away. The nobles who had been allowed inside the temple grew still and silent. Even the children knew that this was a moment they might never witness again.
“King Amunhotep and Queen Nefertiti,” the High Priest proclaimed. “May Amun grant them long life and prosperity.”
The sun was still high in the sky when we assembled in barges to return to Malkata from the Temple of Amun. On the boat ride from Karnak, Amunhotep studied my sister with open fascination: the way she talked, the way she smiled, the way she threw her head back and laughed. “Mutny, come,” my sister called gaily. “Amunhotep, this is my sister, Mutnodjmet.”
“You do have cat eyes,” he remarked. “Your sister told me, but I didn’t believe her.”
I bowed, wondering what else my sister had time to tell him about. “I am pleased to meet you, Your Majesty.”
“My husband has been talking about the temples he will build,” Nefertiti said.
I looked to our new king to see if this was true, and Amunhotep straightened.
“Someday, Mutnodjmet, when I am Pharaoh of both Lower and Upper Egypt, I will
“What happens now?” I whispered.
The general stepped back, and I noticed that his eyes were the shifting colors of sand. “Your sister will be taken to the sacred lake and anointed as coregent by the High Priest of Amun. Then she and the prince will be given the crook and flail of Egypt, and together they will reign.”
My father appeared. “Mutnodjmet, go and stand by your sister,” he instructed.
I went to Nefertiti. In the dim light of the temple, her skin shone like amber, and the lamps illuminated the gold around her neck. She glanced at me, and we both understood that the most important moment in our lives had come: After this ceremony, she would be Queen of Lower Egypt, and our family would ascend to immortality with her. Our names would be written in cartouches and public buildings from Luxor to Kush. We would be remembered in stone and assured a place with the gods for eternity.
Amunhotep ascended the dais holding Nefertiti’s hand in his. He was taller than any Pharaoh that had come before him, and there was more gold on his arms than in my parents’ entire treasury in Akhmim. The priests of Amun filed through the crowd, taking their places on the dais next to me, their bald heads like newly polished brass in the sun. I recognized the High Priest by his leopard robe, and when he came to stand before the new king, my sister passed Amunhotep a look full of meaning.
“Behold, Amun has called us together to exalt Amunhotep the Younger before the land,” the High Priest announced. “Amun has appointed Amunhotep to be Chief of Lower Egypt, and to administer the laws of her people for all his days.”
I could see the general from where I stood. He was watching my sister, and for some reason I felt disappointed.
“From Upper to Lower Egypt they have come. The Pharaoh of Egypt has declared that his son shall be made Pharaoh with him. The people have united to celebrate the new Pharaoh and his protector, Amun. From east to west there will be rejoicing. From north to south there will be celebration. Come.” The High Priest held up a golden vessel filled with oil. “Amun pours his blessing on you, Pharaoh of Egypt.” He poured the oil over Amunhotep’s head. “Amun pours his blessing on you, Queen of Egypt.”
The oil poured down Nefertiti’s new wig and dripped onto her best linen gown. But my sister didn’t flinch. She was queen. There would be many more gowns.
“Amun takes you by the hand and leads you to the sacred waters that shall wash you clean and make you new.” He led them into the sacred pool, where he laid them back and the oil was washed away. The nobles who had been allowed inside the temple grew still and silent. Even the children knew that this was a moment they might never witness again.
“King Amunhotep and Queen Nefertiti,” the High Priest proclaimed. “May Amun grant them long life and prosperity.”
The sun was still high in the sky when we assembled in barges to return to Malkata from the Temple of Amun. On the boat ride from Karnak, Amunhotep studied my sister with open fascination: the way she talked, the way she smiled, the way she threw her head back and laughed. “Mutny, come,” my sister called gaily. “Amunhotep, this is my sister, Mutnodjmet.”
“You do have cat eyes,” he remarked. “Your sister told me, but I didn’t believe her.”
I bowed, wondering what else my sister had time to tell him about. “I am pleased to meet you, Your Majesty.”
“My husband has been talking about the temples he will build,” Nefertiti said.
I looked to our new king to see if this was true, and Amunhotep straightened.
“Someday, Mutnodjmet, when I am Pharaoh of both Lower and Upper Egypt, I will
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