I made my way out of the camp and wandered around aimlessly in the gloomy night. Soon, I found myself on the edge of a cliff, overlooking a darkened wilderness. Far below, the Nile was a shimmering silver thread. A freezing wind whipped at me, as if punishing me.
I reached into my pocket. I drew out the one thing I had guarded with my life all these years.
The lapis lazuli lotus necklace.
I extended my hand over the cliff. My fingers loosened their grip.
Then they stopped.
I could not let go of this.
It was all I had left.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Back in Thebes I had no choice but to go on with my life as if nothing had happened. On my first day back, I was annoyed to step outside and see the sun shining brightly. It seemed to mock me with a cruel irony.
I was tired all the time yet I could not get enough sleep. Even the simplest of tasks, such as going up the stairs, drained me.
A couple of days later, I decided to resign from my tutoring role. It just was not worth it. Nothing was worth it anymore.
I also knew I had to leave Thebes. Where I would go, I did not know. But certainly, I could not return to Heliopolis.
The following day, as the servants tidied after classes, I prepared to inform my royal mistress of my resignation. I went over to a mirror to check myself.
I looked terrible. My skin was sunken and sallow. There were dark circles under my eyes. Earlier, Princess Hatshepsut had asked, "Lady Senat, did you cry last night?"
"No, your Highness. I, uh, just slept very late," I had replied as tears crept to my eyes.
My head throbbed, nearly bursting. I rubbed my temple. Just as I turned to leave the room, Pharaoh Tuthmosis appeared in the doorway.
I stared at him, shocked, even though I knew that was the improper thing to do. The king had never dropped by before, never visited our classes.
"Lady Asenath." His voice was icy and commanding. "Dismiss your servants."
I nodded to my servants. As they filed out, I remembered myself. I awkwardly dropped to the floor.
"Life, health and prosperity to you, Majesty." My tongue nearly stumbled over the words. "O Pharaoh, Living Horus, Son of the Sun, may you live forever."
"Arise."
I rose to see the king heading toward me. His large painted eyes bore into me. "How have the day's classes been?" he asked.
"Uh, good. Very good, Majesty."
"Do you like what you're doing, this role of royal tutor?"
"Yes, Majesty." I would have to postpone meeting with the Queen for a while.
"That is good. Anyhow, there is someone I wish to introduce to you." He clapped his hands.
Joseph appeared in the doorway.
Only proper decorum prevented me from bolting out of the room. I dropped to my knees once more, feeling sharp chills lash across my skin.
After stuttering out the traditional greetings, I heard one thing.
Cold, gnawing silence.
Gentle hands circled my arms and helped me up. I lifted my face to see Joseph's magical eyes, the hazel-olive hues blending together like watery ripples.
Behind him, Pharaoh had become a tiny figure in the distance. He disappeared out the door, leaving Joseph and I completely alone.
Joseph gazed at me, practically touching me with his eyes. Then he gave me a wan smile.
I could not bear it any longer. "Your Excellency, I know you must feel ill toward me. I know I have no proof, but―"
"What's this?" Joseph gently interrupted.
I followed his gaze to a stray papyrus sheet lying on the ground. "It must be one of the children's. We did some drawing earlier this morning."
Joseph released my arms, walked over to the sheet and picked it up. He studied it. A smile broke out across his face. "Isn't this lovely? And so true too."
He handed me the sheet. I took it.
Princess Hatshepsut's name was scrawled at the top in childish hieroglyphs. Below it was a drawing of a man and a woman with their arms stretched out toward each other as if locked in a stiff embrace.
At first, I thought she had drawn her parents. Until I saw the clumsily sketched cartouches beside the characters.
Beside the man was the name Lord Zapanah. Beside the woman, Lady Senat.
"Children are much wiser than we give them credit for, don't you think?" Joseph said.
I lowered my eyes, not knowing what I could possibly say.
"Asenath." His voice was now soft. "Look at me."
Still looking down, I shook my head.
"Look at me." He took my face into his hands and slowly lifted it.
Our eyes met.
"I know what happened," he said. "Khasekh confessed to me everything. But even if he hadn't, I know it would not have been in you to do that. I know you better, far better than you think."
I found my voice. "My lord, I never in my life would dream of hurting you. I know you have been hurt enough. I know I cannot prove this, but―"
"I believe you, Asenath. Do you know why?"
"Why, my lord?"
"You remember I told you that I first came to Egypt as a slave?"
"Yes."
"It was a very difficult time for me, needless to say. I was starved, beaten and bruised. However, I am not bitter about what happened. During those dark days, there was one shining moment that I will never forget. One morning I awoke to a fever so bad I could barely stand. I tried to endure it. But when I was brought out to the slave auction in the marketplace, I finally collapsed. The slaves around me did nothing. The slave trader cared not for any life. It was the lowest point of my life. I felt beneath human. I begged God to let me die. But suddenly, a little girl came up to me and gave me a drink of water. Not long after, she was chased away. Still, no matter how brief a time it had been, her kindness nourished me. I asked God to watch over that little girl always."
Joseph paused for a moment. "I heard someone call her name. Kiya."
Even up to now, I can never find the words to describe that moment. All I can say is that my whole life―my past, present and future―were transformed completely.
I was now a new person. I was neither Asenath nor Kiya. I was both Asenath and Kiya. Though there was no longer a trace of the little village girl, she was still very much alive, frolicking underneath a veil of kohl eye paint and fine linen.
I now remembered it all.
His face had been covered in dirt so I could barely make out his features. But those eyes.
They enchanted me once. They enchanted me still. And they would never stop working their loving magic.
I pulled back. I rested my head in my hands, trying to absorb this, embrace this.
Joseph put an arm around me and drew me close. "Years Later, when I was in Potiphar's house," he said. "I had a dream. I was floating in the skies when a woman appeared before me. Though I could not see her face, I knew I loved her with all my heart. I took her hand. We flew up together into the heavens. Then the voice of God said, 'Joseph, know that on earth there has been born a baby whose destiny will intertwine with yours. That baby has since grown into a beautiful young woman. When she comes, I will tell you. So listen closely.'"
"What happened next?"
"Sometime after that, I grew busy with my master and mistress' Opet celebrations. One night, I was rushing about, supervising a dinner when I
heard God say, 'Joseph, look over there. Remember her?' I looked. It seemed the world came to a halt. It had been many years, but I recognised you right away. I was astounded too that the little girl who had once helped me had grown into such a lovely woman. Your beauty was unlike any other I had ever seen, pure and serene. You had a smile that lit up the entire room. You were, and still are, a precious jewel."
Joseph's grip on me tightened. I pressed closer to him. The weight of this crushed me, but a beautiful and precious weight it was, like a newborn baby.
"The following day," he said, "when I saw you weeping, my heart broke. I wanted nothin
g more than to reach out to you and save you. You looked so helpless and alone. I knew you would hurt yourself if no one came to help you."
Joseph nuzzled me. "You may remember that I told you I was considering visiting Heliopolis after Lord Potiphar released me."
"Yes." My voice grew choked.
"I was hoping to come visit you. I knew it would be a bit, ah, awkward, seeing how you come from a prominent family while I had nothing to my name. However, I just really wanted to see you. But as you know, I was thrown into prison. I was certain I was doomed this time. I had lost everything—my home, my family and now you, my beloved. But the day you came to the prison, I knew all was not lost. That something was still bound to happen to me. To us."
A few tears trickled out of my eyes. Joseph gently brushed them away.
"Joseph," I said. "You saved me. You really did. It was so difficult being apart from you. At times, I grew despondent. But something would happen that would renew my strength. First, there was the incident of the cupbearer and baker. And Lord Potiphar always sent me news."
I sucked in my breath as more tears rolled down my cheeks.
"Ah yes," Joseph said. "We owe much to Lord Potiphar. I actually asked him about you, and he told me everything. He even told me about the time he first saw you as a little girl in the temple at Heliopolis."
I shuddered, not because I was frightened, but because my feelings had reached their zenith.
Joseph led me to a couch. He sat me down beside him. We held each other, basking in loving silence for a moment.
"Soon, my love," he said, "we will have Pharaoh to thank as well."
"Pharaoh? What does Pharaoh have to do with any of this?"
"The day after my appointment, Pharaoh told me he was going to give me a wife. I panicked, for I feared I would be forced into something, well,
against my wishes. He told me I could have my pick from among the noble ladies of the kingdom. He recited a list of names to me. I was very disappointed when he reached the end of the list and one name had not been mentioned. I wondered if I could negotiate with him. Then he said, 'There are a few more I forgot to mention.' The very last name was Lady Asenath, daughter of Pentephres, the high priest of Heliopolis. 'That's her, Majesty,' I said. 'Lady Asenath is the one I want to marry.' The only one, in fact."
I have always been a passionate woman and have always had a lot of love to give. However, I sealed this love in a safe place in the depths of my heart, where I would keep it until the one who I would spend the rest of my life with came along.
Now I removed the lock. The love burst forth and flowed freely.
"Joseph."
He touched my cheek. "Pharaoh told me he would discuss this with you and your parents. I asked if I could be the one to talk about it with you while he could talk with your parents. Not only did he agree to it, he even orchestrated for us to meet. The luncheon and the feast."
My shoulders sagged. Joseph took my hands in his.
"There are no coincidences, my darling," he said. "I know you have been through a lot as well. But God had a plan for us. He overthrew obstacles, broke down walls, built bridges, changed people's minds and reshaped roads so that you and I would be led back to each other."
All of a sudden, Joseph pulled me very close. Before I could say anything, before I could even think, he leaned forward and kissed me.
As strange as this may sound, at twenty-three years of age, this was my very first kiss. Khasekh had once tried to kiss me, but I pulled away before it could rightly be called a kiss. With Joseph though, I certainly had no desire to withdraw. There seemed to be a taste to it, like a lovely fruit whose sweet juices trickled down my chin.
When we pulled away, the tears flowed freely down my cheeks. I slumped against him, feeling our hearts beat together as one.
This was a time and a moment and a world that belonged to only two people. Him and me. Our souls joined hands and soared to the heavens to be blessed by God on high.
When I was a child in the fishing village, my friends and I were one day treading atop a slippery pile of rocks. One of the older children instigated a contest. Excited, we raced forward.
All of a sudden, a little girl named Miwsher slipped and hit her head. We stared in helpless horror as a huge bleeding gash opened up in her forehead.
She burst into cries. All the adults rushed toward us. Miwsher's mother flew over to her daughter, swept her up in her arms and held her close. The little girl was still bleeding badly, but her cries died down at her mother's comforting touch.
Now, I know how Miwsher must have felt. I had fallen, hurt myself, even thought I was going to die, when Joseph came and swept me up in his arms.
But something stabbed at me, a cruel reminder that I had been fated to lose everything I loved. I crumpled into a heap.
"Please don't take this away from me," I sobbed. "Please don't wake me up from this dream. I want to live in it, now and forever. Please."
Joseph took me into his arms once more. "It is not a dream, Asenath. It should not be a dream. If it were, how could things come to pass? How could we be married?"
"I know not." I placed my hands to his beautiful face. "But whether this is a dream or reality, know that I have no dearer wish than to be with you always."
"Then I will prove to you it is real, my Asenath...my Kiya," Joseph said, his eyes filling with tears.
He drew me close once more. He kissed my eyes, my forehead and my cheeks. My arms reached around his neck. He pressed his lips to mine. I returned his kiss, feeling his warmth nestling against me.
Afterward, we clung to each other, my face buried in his shoulder.
He gently pulled back, and with a face full of tears and joy, he said, "Come, my love. Let us go tell our loved ones of this joyous news."
CHAPTER TWENTY
That day, I wore a white sheath dress along with a flowing gossamer cloak that cascaded to the ground in soft folds. My veil hung from a band around my wig and fell behind me like a misty waterfall. Turquoise and lapis lazuli jewellery graced my neck and arms. My skin glittered with the special perfume of stars.
A veiled litter carried me from my parents' house to the palace. I could not see outside, but I knew I was surrounded by an elaborate entourage—priests and priestesses from the Karnak and Heliopolitan temples, children tossing petals and servants bearing gold and precious stones―my bridal dowry. My parents rode at the head of the procession.
I sat in silence, the train of my wedding dress a sparkling white puddle around my feet. All around me, the world celebrated. I heard the singing of the priestesses, the rattling of sistrums, the cheers of the crowds.
Yet I heeded none of these, for my thoughts swirled around only one person.
As we entered the throne hall, a solemn but beautiful melody played on flutes. My litter was lowered and he drew back the curtains and helped me to the ground.
My beloved husband-to-be was radiant in his formal vizier's robe and cape, which looked like specks of sunlight woven together. His striped nemes of olive and silver brought out the greens of his eyes. His face beamed with his timeless, beauteous smile.
As Pharaoh commenced the ceremony with a matrimonial speech from the Wisdom Texts, I glanced around at our family and friends. A warm nostalgia came over me as I realised just how far all of us had come. I had gone on a tumultuous but exciting journey with these people I loved, and we had survived it together.
Lord Potiphar, though pale and thin, was smiling brightly. Our eyes met and he inclined his head in a gesture of affection.
Princess Hatshepsut stood with her parents. When Joseph and I returned the drawing to her, she had said it was ours to keep. We still have it. It is now yellowed with age.
My parents stood behind Pharaoh. Mother was dabbing her eyes. Father was the same as he had been when he heard about the upcoming wedding—quiet and expressionless, much to my surprise. He had made no objections, no scathing remarks, nothing. He had not even protested about the Hel
iopolitan priests taking part in the ceremony.
He never apologised for betraying me to Khasekh, but that did not matter. Not anymore. For if this had not happened, things would not have unfolded so beautifully the way they did.
Some people who I had not seen in a long time were there as well. Irikara, the kindly lady from the Temple of Atum-Re, had even come over to our house earlier to help me dress. Ubastet and Baktre, the sweet servant girls from Lord Potiphar's house, were present too.
Then my eyes returned to my beloved. We were both so lost in each other, I do not think either of us really noticed what was happening. It was strange, considering how long we had been waiting for this day.
After Pharaoh delivered his speech, a choir of lector priests chanted hymns. An uab priest handed my groom and I the branch of a date palm, the tree sacred to the sun-god. We knelt before Pharaoh and laid the branch at his feet.
He waved it over us, then bade us rise. Another uab priest handed Joseph a clay goblet of sparkling red wine. My beautiful husband-to-be sipped from the goblet and handed it to me.
For some reason as I lifted the goblet to my lips my grip loosened. A few crimson drops spilled onto the hem of my dress.
Immediately, the priests made the sign against Seth, chanting threats toward any dark spirit that would destroy the marriage. But to me, those droplets were anything but an omen. They looked like tears that told the story of Joseph and I—how we had suffered before we were led back to each other.
After I sipped from the goblet, I placed it upon an altar. Joseph was given a sword. With one powerful movement, he swung at the goblet. It fell with a crash that echoed throughout the throne hall.
My parents came forward. Father sprinkled us with water from the Temple of Atum-Re's sacred lake to purify us. Mother tossed wheat grains to ensure fertility.
Finally, Pharaoh raised his crook and flail. "I, Pharaoh Aakheperkare Tuthmosis, Living Horus and Son of Re, declare you, Lord Zaphenath-Paneah and Lady Asenath, husband and wife."
And with that, we were married.
We were presented before all of Egypt on the royal balcony, just like in Joseph's inauguration. Together with the Pharaohnic couple and my parents, we waved to the jubilant crowd below.
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