FIVE

| ANKHESENAMUN | AMARNA | 14th CENTURY BCE |

He is here. I am sure of it. As my attendants bathed me, they spoke of a merchant who has arrived with a large pouch of gold, and exceptional gems and golden collars carried from as far as Babylon.

After the darkness of the past months, of death and uncertainty, the whole city is consumed by this unexpected diversion. We have had no visitors for so long. No envoys, nothing. No news of the world outside our own. He will bring news. Ay will be hungry for it.

Of course, I sent a message to Ay requesting that he be sent to the palace so I might browse his wares as is the custom. The royal family are always given first selection, then the nobles, and so forth. It is expected of me. Ay, of course, will agree. He must, it is court protocol.

I am tired. I have not eaten anything in three days. I miss Benut as if a piece of my heart has been carved from me. But I stand still as my attendants dress me in a pale blue gown sewn with threads of gold that shimmer in the firelight of the braziers. My heart tells me he will come this evening. I am nervous but I must give the appearance of aloofness to the one who would claim me as his queen, as if he were nothing to me - the prince who has become my everything. I wonder how he will look, dark, and powerful I suspect. A warrior prince. The lords of the north have always been of sturdier build than ours.

A smile threatens to shadow my lips. I cough and turn away. No one must suspect anything. Instead, I give my attention to the selection of jeweled cuffs laid out on a tray and choose which to place on my wrists. I select a pair my mother gave me my last year day before she died. On them, the tragic story of love of a shepherdess and a prince. Since my beautiful mother went to the gods, I have never worn them. I could not bear to. But today, in my victory I will have her presence with me.

The lady of my wardrobe asks if I will wear my crown today. I say yes and meet the astonished looks of my attendants with a cool expression for I have not worn my crown since my brother-husband-king was interred. They may think I have given up, but I am still the Queen of Egypt, even if I am caged and my wings are clipped.

Because my prince is in Amarna, at last. Aten has rewarded me for my endurance. As I walk to the main reception hall to show my face to my subjects for the first time in months, my skin tingles with anticipation.

| ZANNANZA | HATTUSA | 14th CENTURY BCE |

Amarna is nothing like I expected. Everything feels new and looks new. I have heard how the entire city was built during the reign of Amenhotep, raised out of the desert from nothing more than a well and a goat herding oasis. It is a marvel to me. Even had I not known it was built in such a brief time, I would be impressed. There is a sense of harmony in every angle and curve of the city’s palm-lined avenues, plazas, and temples. Symmetry abounds. It is a feast for the senses. I am accustomed to the chaos of a city built and extended over hundreds of years, not this - a pristine, perfect place of beauty and calm.

Birdsong fills the air. Above, stretched over flower-laden terraces a riot of rich blue, green and red awnings ripple in the brisk river breeze. I am a price of an empire so I will not gape, but the boy in me wishes to. I breathe my thanks to Teshub for the gift he has given me and smile at a child holding out a basket of dates toward me. I gesture to one of my men to purchase a handful, and the child’s eyes widen at the size of the heavy pouch of gold he carries.

Of course, it is planned, this show of wealth. Even in a new city, things will be the same as in even the oldest one. People are always the same. I will continue through the market and barter, buy and sell some choice trinkets my father gave me from Babylon and by the time evening arrives, everyone will know there is a wealthy merchant in the city and I will be summoned to the palace. Nobles never wish to miss a chance to purchase a pretty bauble. And this perfect city, with its white walls and glass bead mosaics embedded into every threshold will most certainly be full of vain and wealthy nobles with gold to spend.

At last, I will kneel before her, the miracle who sent for a prince of Hatti to protect her throne from her enemies. After the most arduous journey of my life, I am here. Ahead, perched on a rocky cleft, the royal citadel, walled in white and crested with inverted pyramidions of gold, its palm-lined terraces soaked in the sultry heat of Arinna’s light. The widow queen may even stand upon one of its many indigo-draped terraces now, locked in her patient vigil, unaware the one she awaits is already here, walking among her subjects, invisible. The thought thrills me.

Soon, my queen, I will be by your side, Zanannza Prince of Hatti, son of Teshub, Pharoah of Egypt.