“Hi, Rae,” Tam said. She set the basket down on the floor, a little breathless from the journey. Her round cheeks shone with exertion, and wisps of her dark hair framed her face. Her beauty was effortless, her voice like water over smooth stones.
“I didn’t know if I’d see you today,” she went on. “I heard all about the—”
Before she could finish the sentence, Rae pulled her into a kiss. She pressed Tam’s back into the wall, relishing the amplesoftness of her, the musky smell of her skin, the taste of her lips. When she pulled away, Tam looked at her with delighted surprise.
“What was that for?” she asked.
“Because today is a gift we might not get again,” Rae said, feeling so light, she might just float away.
22
Sita
Sita sat on the steps of the palace swimming pool, her feet ankle-deep in the cool water. Nebet perched on a low stool behind her and brushed almond oil into Sita’s hair with long, rhythmic strokes. Of all the women bathing, the middle-aged attendant was the only one clothed. The pool was cross-shaped, deep in the middle, with a shallow area for lounging on each side. It was surrounded on three sides by a shaded colonnade, and because it was situated at the back of the palace, offered a view of a desert so empty and still that one could almost forget that the city was mere steps away. The columns were painted with lush floral patterns in blue and green, and depicted images of naked women luxuriating in the water, almost identical to that afternoon’s tranquil scene. Some of the king’s lesser wives and concubines had gathered to spend the afternoon swimming and chatting quietly about trivial things.
New dresses.
Boat rides.
A child’s toy, misplaced.
Anything but what they were all thinking about. Anything that might distract them from what was really going on.
They, like everyone else in the palace, were waiting.
After the king’s collapse in the pleasure garden the night before, he’d been rushed to his chambers to be attended to by the priests. Sita knew that her father had been roused from his faint, but beyond that, there hadn’t been any further news of his condition all through the night and morning.
Sita hadn’t slept. She watched the other women chat but kept to herself. She was numb, exhausted, incapable of pretense.
Tadia was there, chatting amiably with one of the other, less-favored concubines. Despite putting on an air of solemnity, the girl hid a smile in the corner of her mouth. Sita got the feeling that Tadia was secretly quite eager for the opportunity to court a young, handsome new pharaoh. Sita wondered how many of the other women felt the same. Most of the lesser wives were at the pool too, with one notable exception.
Maet’s mother.
Sita swallowed. Her mouth was bitter despite having eaten a whole plateful of sweet, fresh melon.
Was it worth it?
Part of her wanted to walk to the jar of wine sitting on a little table nearby and guzzle the entire thing, but ever since Maet fell sick, she’d been unable to drink another drop. The smell of it made her want to vomit. In fact, she couldn’t bear the thought of pleasure anymore—carnal or otherwise.
She wanted to suffer.
She’d buried the truth, wrapping it in excuses and justifications, only to find that she’d buried an innocent child along with it. Something about her father’s anguish over Maet’s death, his own collapse right in front of her, all while she’d been thinking the most horrible, selfish thoughts, had given her new perspective. Her guilt was a physical presence now, a vulture that circled her. Because wherever she went—death seemed to follow close behind.
Her blood is on your hands.
Sita still believed in Mery’s vision for Khetara, still believed his intentions were good—though she had started to wonder if, in fact, this had been the only way.
The sting of remorse made her wince.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Nebet said, thinking she’d caught a knot in Sita’s hair. “I’ll try to be gentler.”
“No, no, it’s nothing,” Sita replied.
Misconstruing the true source of Sita’s grief, Nebet laid a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “Losing Maet so suddenly was a terrible thing. But you did everything you could to save her, Sitamun. Your actions got her home quickly, so that she was able to spend her final hours with her mother—”
“I’m going to swim for a bit,” Sita said abruptly, no longer trusting herself not to cry.
“Wait, your hair!” Nebet objected.
