The Egyptian Royals Collection by Michelle Moran Read Free Book Online

bend closer to hear, and she gave her smiles sparingly, so that when she laughed a man felt like he had been bathed in her light.
    When the food was served and we began to eat, I didn’t know where to look first. The dais, where the Elder leered at naked women whose limber bodies bent backward in dance, or the prince, who looked sharp and controlled, a different man from the one I remembered in the tombs. I looked at Panahesi across the table. The vizier wore the signet ring of the king, and he was tall like my father. But in all other ways they were opposites. Where my father had blue eyes, Panahesi’s were black. Where my father had the high cheekbones Nefertiti had inherited, Panahesi’s face was longer and fuller. Gold rings shone on each of his fingers, whereas my father rarely wore his jewels. I studied our family’s rival until the musicians struck up a tune and everyone left the tables to dance, women in one circle, men in another. My father took my mother’s hand to lead her across the hall, and Kiya watched with critical eyes as Nefertiti got up to join the women.
    “Aren’t you coming?” Nefertiti asked.
    “Of course not!” I stared at the throngs of pretty courtiers’ daughters, all of whom had been raised in Thebes, all of whom would know the court dances. “I don’t know any of the moves. How will you do it?”
    She shrugged. “I’ll watch and learn.”
    Perhaps Merit had given her instructions in private, for I was amazed to see my sister leap and spin in time with the others, a vision of lapis lazuli and gold. There were only a few women sitting, and I noticed with unease that I wasn’t alone at our table. Panahesi remained as well. I glanced at him, the way his long fingers were templed under his clipped black beard, the only vizier at court who let his hair grow long. Then he caught me looking at him and said, “This must be very exciting for you. A young girl from Akhmim, coming to the palace with all its feasting and gold. So why aren’t you dancing?”
    I shifted in my seat. “I don’t know the dances,” I admitted.
    He raised his brows. “Yet your sister seems so natural,” he pointed out, and we be both looked at Nefertiti, who danced as if we’d been attending court functions all our lives. Panahesi looked from her to me and smiled. “You must be half sisters.”
    I hoped Ipu’s rouge hid my mortification, and bit my tongue so I wouldn’t reply with something sharp.
    “So tell me,” Panahesi went on. “With a sister in the king’s harem, who will you marry?”
    My ire rose. “I am only thirteen.”
    “Of course, a little girl still.” His eyes traveled to my chest, and suddenly Nefertiti was beside me. The music had ended.
    “Yes, but better a blossoming woman than a wilted old man.” Her eyes traveled meaningfully to Panahesi’s kilt. Then our father reappeared, taking his seat at the table.
    Panahesi pushed out his chair. “Your children are very charming,” he snapped. “I am sure the prince will come to love them dearly.” He swept away, his white cloak trailing at his heels, and my father demanded, “What happened?”
    “The vizier—” I began, but Nefertiti cut me off.
    “Nothing.”
    My father looked long at Nefertiti.
    “Nothing,” she repeated.
    “I warned you to be careful. The Vizier Panahesi has Amunhotep’s ear.”
    Nefertiti set her jaw, and I could see that she wanted to reply,
Not when I become queen
, but remained silent. Then she searched the room and became agitated. “Where is the prince?”
    “While you were charming the vizier, he left the hall.”
    Nefertiti faltered. “I won’t meet him tonight?”
    “Not unless he returns,” my father said, and I had never heard his voice so deep or stern. This wasn’t Akhmim. This was the court of Egypt, where mistakes couldn’t be tolerated.
    “Maybe he’ll come back,” I suggested hopefully, and both Nefertiti and my father ignored me. The musky scent of wine filled the hall. Kiya