“Unfortunately no, my prince. He claims to know nothing about Princess Sitamun’s flight, other than some talk about her traveling north. But all the ships heading upriver were thoroughly searched.”
“And you’ve offered him plenty of… encouragement, I assume?”
“If weencouragehim any further, he won’t live to see another sunrise.” There was a pause. “But we haven’t given up the search. She will be found, my prince. I give you my word.”
“Don’t give me your word, damn you,” Meryamun sneered. “Keep it.”
Neff sidestepped from the door as the guard burst through the curtain, so preoccupied with his thoughts that he didn’t notice her.
Neff stared at the shadowy figures moving behind the curtain and took a deep breath before pushing it aside.
“Prince Meryamun, may I—” she began. The next words stuck in her throat.
Meryamun turned his head toward her. He was lounging on a polished wooden couch, wearing a loincloth and nothing else.Two servant girls, whose clothing consisted of little more than what the prince himself wore, knelt beside him, massaging his hands and feet. His body was long and lithe, his skin a warm golden brown. Her eyes followed the V-shaped curve of his pelvis down to the edge of the loincloth, and she blushed.
“Oh, I-I’m sorry,” she stammered, and had started to back away when he called to her.
“Nefermaat,” he purred. “Don’t go. You’re welcome here.”
With effort, Neff turned back to face him. He waved the girls away and they left without a word, moving soundlessly into a side chamber.
Neff and the prince were alone.
Her pulse quickened, and she started to drop her gaze to the floor.
Look him in the eye, so he knows you mean business.
She looked up.
Meryamun smiled and stood, padding toward her on bare feet. “You look extraordinary. Did you come to show yourself to me?”
Neff considered this as he came closer, bringing with him a fragrance of balsam wood and spice.
Tell them what they want to hear.
“Yes, my prince,” she answered. “You honor me with this gown and this jewelry.”
Meryamun chuckled with pleasure. “And these?” He reached out to shift the straps of her gown, revealing tattoos of small wedjat eyes on either side of her chest. The skin around them was still a little pink. “Did it hurt?”
As soon as she’d arrived at the palace, Meryamun had ordered a priest to apply the tattoos, which marked her as a high priestess, sacred to the crown. She’d lain on a table while the man dipped a sharp needle in a bowl of soot mixed with water, then used it tocarve the ink into her flesh. He’d put one on each side of her chest, and two more on the small of her back—identical to the ones the high priestess of Bubas had. The process had been excruciating.
“It was fine, my prince,” she said.
Meryamun laughed. “You’re a terrible liar.”
Am I, though?Neff thought.
Meryamun brushed his thumb against the outline of the eye on her right shoulder, and Neff resisted the urge to wince.
“Now everyone will know that you are under the gods’ protection, as well as mine,” he said. “Whatever action they take in your presence will have a divine witness. These marks are made from the ash of sacred flames. Did you know that?” He leaned in close. “You see? You don’t need the temple anymore, my girl. Youarea temple.”
Neff swallowed.This is your chance.Speak clearly, and don’t overexplain.
“Speaking of the temple,” she began. “Since I cannot continue my lessons with Master Montuhotep—”
Meryamun scoffed. “You don’t need him. And frankly, neither do I. He was useful to me for a while, but now that I have you… he’s become quite unnecessary.”
He was useful… Neff mused. Perhaps Montuhotep really had known about the prince’s plans, and had lied to the king in hopes of securing his position in Meryamun’s favor. He must be very displeased with Neff for taking his place, but that was a problem for another day. “As you say, my prince,” Neff said with a dip of her head. “However, I do wish to continue my education.”
