Chapter Fourteen

It was difficult for Suhad to look Tutankhamun in the eye day after day all the while knowing she was keeping the truth of her pregnancy from him. Two weeks had passed since Suhad's confrontation with the queen and, ever since, she had battled with herself over what she should do. Some days she was firm about telling him, confident that he would be happy and welcoming. Other days, she was certain the truth would only add to the heavy burden he already shouldered. She couldn't quite banish Ankhesenamun's ominous warning from her thoughts, that her bearing Tutankhamun a child could mean ruination for him and his kingdom.

The worst part was that Suhad couldn't dismiss the queen's words out of turn. There was merit to the argument. Though it was mostly baseless, speculation ran rampant throughout the palace concerning how much influence Suhad exerted over the Pharaoh's decisions. His apparent lack of decisive action against the Mitanni threat was often attributed to her. Did he really hesitate to act due to lack of military leadership and internal strife or was he merely reluctant to lift his hand against his lover's people? His preoccupation with her only caused his judgment to become suspect in his people's eyes.

Were Tutankhamun to establish their child as his heir, and with the queen unable to produce a living child it was a real possibility, Suhad had few doubts that his enemies would use that as an excuse to remove him from power in much the way they had dispatched his father, Akhenaten, before him. She could neither compound his woes nor jeopardize his life and kingship, not now when matters within the kingdom remained so tenuous. She had little choice but to keep her growing pregnancy a secret. In Suhad's mind, she placated herself with the promise that she wasn't going to keep the truth from him indefinitely. She was simply waiting for an opportune time to give him the news.

Still, the guilt ate away at her like corrosive acid and it was only compounded by Tutankhamun's loving demeanor and unsuspecting generosity. The more tenderness and patience he expended towards her, the less worthy of him she felt. As a result, Suhad began to distance herself from him, choosing to deliberately avoid his presence rather than subject herself to the overwhelming shame and self-hatred she felt whenever they were together. She knew that Tutankhamun was hurt and confused by her inexplicable coolness towards him and she wanted to comfort and reassure him but, she had no idea what she could say when the truth was not an option. Suhad could only hope that he would understand her reasoning once her pregnancy became known.

Presently, she wandered around aimlessly in the palace courtyard, trying not to be too aware of the fact that Tutankhamun was likely awaiting her arrival in his bedchamber at that very second. Lately, he had been making a very diligent effort to steal away an hour in his hectic afternoons so that they might spend more time together. He was as busy as he had ever been yet it was important to him to prove to Suhad that she was his priority. Tutankhamun had no way of knowing that his efforts to be an accommodating and dutiful lover were driving Suhad into the depths of depression.

She felt pangs of anguish at the thought of him waiting there for her, disappointed and bewildered when she did not make an appearance but, for Suhad, the alternative was worse. Sometimes he was too wonderful, more than what she believed she deserved. She well remembered how remote Tutankhamun had seemed in those early days when she was nursing him back to health and he was keeping the secret of his true identity. Suhad wondered if he might have felt something similar to what she was feeling now. If so, he must have been in excruciating emotional pain every hour of every day.

Suhad was so lost in thought and so unaware of her actions that she did not realize she was staring intently at a game-like design of colored diamond shapes drawn on the courtyard floor until a voice sounded off to her right. "It's a foot game. A game of balance, really." Suhad jerked upright, surprised to find a young man about her age with curious eyes and a welcoming smile standing a few feet away. He was very good-looking with a sturdy stature and had the look of an Egyptian noble. Suhad was immediately wary of him but smiled politely as he continued on explaining to her the rules of the game.

"You have to hop on one foot," he said, "There's colored dice that determine which marker to step on. It can be amusing, particularly if there is a wager or two involved."

"I played a game similar to this when I was a girl," Suhad said, "But I can't say we ever played for lots as we never had anything of real value to wager."

"Well, it's not a hard and fast rule," the young man replied, surveying her with a speculative glance. "You are the one who came back with the Pharaoh, are you not?"

Suhad's heart immediately descended into her belly as she prepared herself for an abrupt end to their pleasant conversation. "I am."

But he did not reject her or withdraw from her scornfully as others did. Instead, he continued to smile at her with friendly appeal. "I thought so. I've only managed to see you from afar on most days. You're accompanied by the Pharaoh most often and I've the inkling that approaching you while you are in his company probably isn't the wisest idea. I didn't imagine I'd ever get close enough to ever have a real conversation with you."

"And that was a goal of yours because...?" Suhad prompted in wry amusement.

"Well, as I'm sure you're aware, there aren't many within our age group here in the palace aside from the Pharaoh and the Queen and I'm sure you also understand that we don't often socialize in the same circles. It's nice to finally have someone here my age with whom I can interact." He bent forward in belated greeting. "I am Nahkt, by the way, the Vizier's son. I am pleased to make your acquaintance." Suhad bowed in return, observing him tentatively through the screen of her lashes. "Welcome to the palace."

"Thank you," Suhad murmured in husky gratitude, "I think yours is the first sincere greeting I've received since arriving here. I am Suhad."

"Oh, so then you understand quite well what it is like?"

Suhad favored him with a questioning look. "What it's like?"

"To be elevated in station and supposedly valued as an equal yet continually viewed as an undeserving commoner. You're always trying to prove yourself and your right to be here but you are also constantly reminded that you will never be good enough. Does this sound at all familiar?"

Suhad lowered her eyes in sorrowful acknowledgement. "Yes, I might know something of that feeling."

"You and I are not so different, Suhad," Nahkt told her, "So, if you are expecting me to judge you adversely because of your relationship with the Pharaoh, allow me to put your mind at ease." Suhad chanced a wary glance at him. "I know very well how it feels to be isolated and alone within these palace walls. I have not had many friends here, despite being raised in the palace all of my life. I would like to spare you a similar pain, if I can."

"So you wish to befriend me out of pity?"

"The point you should take away from this is...I should like to befriend you," he countered, "Is that not enough?"

Suhad rolled her eyes in laughing acceptance. "I suppose I can allow it."

Nahkt's smile widened as her defensive walls were gradually lowered. "I think that you and I will become very good friends, Suhad." He gestured to the game. "Shall I teach you the rules? I haven't trounced anyone at this sport in quite some time."

"Oh, my dear, Nahkt," she returned with an airy smile, "your challenge is accepted."

From his balcony beyond the palace courtyard, Tutankhamun watched the exchange between Nahkt and Suhad with eyes narrowed in growing displeasure. He couldn't quite place what it was about their interaction filled him with anger and frustration but he knew absolutely that he didn't like it. That disquieting feeling was only exacerbated when he considered how distant Suhad had been with him of late, especially when he thought about how abrupt her attitude shift had been. The last time she had been so emotionally withdrawn from him had been while they were in the desert and she'd decided to return home to Amurru rather than accompanying him to Thebes. Tutankhamun wondered if she might be entertaining the same consideration now.

He wasn't blind to her growing unhappiness. In spite of his best efforts, she spent most of her days left to her own devices due to the constant turmoil churning within his kingdom. She had no family and no friends to support her. He was the only thing tying her to Thebes at all. Tutankhamun imagined that the stress of being separated from him day after day was only compounded by the knowledge that she was not accepted within the palace. As a result, he did his utmost to put her at ease, often incurring the irritation of his vizier and royal advisers whenever he cut short their daily meetings of military strategizing in order to seek Suhad out and spend time with her.

Lately, however, even that did not appear to be enough and, the harder he tried, the more Suhad seemed to isolate herself. He felt as if she was slipping away from him a bit more every day and there was little he could do to stop it. That prospect of possibly losing her love frightened him more than the wrath of all his enemies combined. If Suhad were to leave him, as he feared she wanted to, then Tutankhamun imagined that there would be very little in his life that mattered following her departure.

"They do look charming together, do they not?" Tutankhamun stiffened instantly at Ankhesenamun's approach, his hands tightening reflexively against the stone banister as he prepared himself for the untold strain she would undoubtedly bring him. Seemingly impervious to his lack of enthusiasm at her arrival and without waiting for his invitation, she came to stand alongside him, peering down into the courtyard where Nahkt and Suhad were having their hopping game. "I don't believe I've ever seen her laugh so freely...not even with you," Ankhesenamun commented with a thoughtful air, "She's actually quite beautiful when she smiles like that."

Tutankhamun's jaw tightened with jealousy at the observation but otherwise he did not comment on it. Instead, he asked with obvious impatience, "Is there something you require at this time, sister?"

"Only what we have discussed at length for the past several weeks," Ankhesenamun stated, "We must produce an heir, brother. With matters as they are, we must establish a foothold in this kingdom."

"As you have said, the matter has been discussed and a conclusion made, Ankhesenamun," he replied shortly, placing his hands behind his back, "The timing is not right."

"Is it the timing or is it the girl?" Tutankhamun regarded her with an enigmatic look, maintaining his silence. "She is not your queen! She is not the one you married so that we could conceive a child in our father's name!" She lifted her hand to trace the ridge of his collarbone lightly, her fingers stroking at the base of his throat where his pulse fluttered. "We have a duty to this kingdom, brother."

He swept aside her hand, his features becoming even more remote. "What is it that you want from me, Ankhesenamun? Surely, not this. You have never wanted this."

"Since when have our desires ever influenced our duty?"

"Perhaps that should change."

"Tutankhamun," she cajoled in a beseeching whisper, "this is not a small thing that I am asking of you. Brother, you know what is at stake." She drew closer to him, her breath stirring against his face as she murmured, "Let us try once more...for this kingdom and our father."

Rather than yielding to the tacit offer of her lips, Tutankhamun leaned forward to pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, hoping to lessen the sting of his coming refusal. "No. I will not. Do not ask me again."

But, as he started to turn away from her, Ankhesenamun's words followed him, her voice trembling with unshed tears and anger as she spoke. "Do not prove our father right, brother!" she cried, "He never believed you could be a great Pharaoh. But you have shown yourself opposite. You rise above your enemies for the greater good of Egypt. Do not let this girl cloud your mind after everything we have been through!

"She is Mitanni and they are our sworn enemies," she reminded him, "Do not disregard our forefathers! You preach duty and oath to General Horemheb and his men. Do not make yourself into a hypocrite!" He slowly pivoted to face her, unable to fully block out the truth in her words or the pangs of his own conscience regarding them. "This is your duty, Tutankhamun. This...is your oath!"

As he started to open his mouth to make a reply to her, Suhad's laughter rang up from the courtyard below. He peered over the edge to see her smiling in that guileless, unguarded way she had and he felt his heart contract with love and longing for her. In that moment, it didn't matter to him that he was not the one to have coaxed forth her smile. It was enough for Tutankhamun to see her happy. He turned his gaze back towards an expectant Ankhesenamun.

"I am sorry, sister," he murmured regretfully, "but I cannot do what you ask."

The gravity of his decided course continued to weigh heavily on Tutankhamun for the remainder of the day, making him feel edgy and short-tempered. He recognized that, by denying Ankhesenamun, he was not only turning his back on his duty to her but every pharaoh that had ever come before him. He was denouncing his bloodline, rejecting his own birthright...and for a woman he wasn't entirely sure wanted to be with him any longer. The more he thought about it, the more aggravated he became so that by the time Suhad joined him in his chambers that night his mood had darkened considerably.

As soon as she was escorted into his interior room, he curtly dismissed the servants and rounded on her in accusation. "Where were you this afternoon?" he demanded shortly, "I waited for you here."

Suhad looked away from him in an attempt to mask her guilt and remorse. "I needed some air. I decided to go for a walk."

"With the Vizier's son?"

She cut him a sharp glance. "You were watching me?"

"I was waiting for you because we were supposed to meet here," he emphasized, "Tell me, Suhad, exactly what is it about him that makes you prefer his company to mine?"

"It has nothing to do with preference," she protested, "Nahkt was kind to me. He showed me a game and provided me with some much needed amusement. I should think you would not begrudge me that small bit of happiness in this dreary place!"

"I do not begrudge you happiness, Suhad, but I will not permit you to take a lover. Do you understand? I forbid it!"

Suhad gaped at him in disbelief. "What did you say to me?"

"You are mine," Tutankhamun intoned haughtily, "Mine alone. I will not share you with anyone! Is that clear?"

Her defensive guilt was abruptly obliterated in the wake of his possessive jealousy. Suhad rounded on him, her hands fisted at her sides with gathering rage. "So what...am I now viewed as little more than your property? You think to dictate to me where and when to go and with whom I can spend time?" she spat, "How dare you make such an accusation? How dare you belittle me? You, of all people, haven't the right! Should I pretend that you will not be visiting the queen's bed soon enough? I am expected to share but you are above it!"

"It is not the same."

"But you admit you will have her eventually?"

"I have not done that at all," he bit out tightly.

"Yet! But you will," Suhad retorted, "So, don't you dare tell me what I can and cannot do! You do not own me! I can see whom I want, when I want. And, should the fancy strike me to take a lover, that shall be my choosing as well!"

He glared at her in such a way that Suhad believed he would have gladly grabbed hold of her and shaken her senseless right then. But instead, he simply stiffened his back and walked out without another word. His stony exit, as well as the barely restrained rage that had been stamped all over his face, were firm indicators to Suhad that she might have pushed him too far. However, her rebellious pride prevented her from calling him back.

She sank down onto a nearby settee on trembling knees, seething over his unmitigated gall. How dare he, she ranted inwardly. How dare he lay claim to her as if she were nothing more than an inanimate piece of artwork or an article of clothing? How dare he imply that she would be so disloyal, so disrespectful to him as to take a lover? Didn't he know her better than that? Didn't he realize that she could never entertain the thought of anyone in her bed besides him?

However, the longer Suhad sat there reliving that last conversation with Tutankhamun, the more she began to realize she was being unfair to him. Likely his hurt and confusion over her distance had been what prompted his uncharacteristic flare of unreasonable jealousy in the first place. She had faulted him for being possessive of her and yet, she was equally possessive of him. Wasn't it her own seething resentment of Ankhesenamun which had prompted her to hurl accusations at him in the first place? And had he spoken anything untrue? She was his...just as he was hers. In hindsight, she realized that she was more offended by the context in which he had used the sentiment than the actual sentiment itself.

As her anger cooled further and was gradually replaced with swamping regret, Suhad also acknowledged that was judging him too harshly for not knowing her better. How could he know her when she was deliberately keeping parts of herself hidden from him? It was her own lies which were causing the rift between them and not some deficit on his part. How could he possibly discern her motives when she was continually pushing him away? And was it really any wonder that he had jumped to wild conclusions after she left him waiting today and then spent the time that should have been reserved for him with Nahkt?

He had been wrong to attack her as he had but her belligerent response had only worsened matters. At the heart of all his bluster and anger, she knew that he was probably frightened and desperate not to lose her, especially when he could feel her slipping away from him without any explanation. Were their positions reversed, Suhad had little doubt that she would feel the same. For that reason alone, she was willing to make allowances for his unjustified anger with her.

After her meditating deeply on all that had transpired, Suhad knew what she had to do. She had to tell Tutankhamun the truth. No matter how much she feared the consequences, he deserved to know that she was carrying his child. He deserved to understand why she had been so distant and he needed the reassurance that it had nothing to do with her love for him diminishing. More than ever, they needed to stand together in a united front and fortify their love, not tear down their bond from the inside. She didn't know what would happen once all had been revealed but Suhad was quite confident that she and Tutankhamun would face it together. Resolved in her decision, Suhad waited patiently for him to return.

She was very near to dozing when he finally returned to his bedchamber many hours later. He stopped short to see her there, clearly surprised by the discovery that she had not retreated to her own bedchamber long ago. Suhad quickly straightened as the brief flash of joy that flickered across Tutankhamun's face quickly dissipated and his features became shuttered and guarded. She couldn't tell if he welcomed her presence right then or if he lamented it. Suhad was inclined to think it was the latter when Tutankhamun slumped forward as he climbed the dais steps, his shoulders stooped in a defeated posture.

"I'm tired, Suhad," he declared implacably, "I do not wish to fight with you."

"Then let us not fight at all," she said in return, "I owe you an apology. I've been unfair to you. I was wrong to avoid you this afternoon and for this last week as well. Believe me when I tell you that I have my reasons, which I shall explain in full detail in a moment. But first you should know, there is nothing between Nahkt and I. Today was the first time we have ever spoken. I am loyal to you and will always be so. I should not have implied otherwise."

Tutankhamun looked away, his jaw flexing with emotion. "I know that. I apologize as well for making such baseless assumptions. We were both angry and said words we now regret. I never should have accused you."

Suhad rose to her feet with a tentative smile, slowly closing the distance between them. "I have hope that we can put it behind us, my love, especially when I share my news with you." She embraced him then, becoming aware of the subtle stiffening in his back only an instant after she detected the cloying scent of perfumed oil on his skin. She recognized the fragrance right away. It was a distinct smell associated only with the queen. The implication of the fragrance on his skin was clear. Suhad connected the pieces with disheartening alacrity. It wasn't difficult then to decipher the reason behind his tension and wary behavior.

As if sensing her train of thought, Tutankhamun shrugged from her arms with a guilty intake of breath. "It was not intended," he said gruffly, unable to meet her eyes.

"But it was inevitable," she concluded before asking in a trembling tone, "Was I the reason you went to her? Were you seeking comfort? Did I drive you into her arms tonight? Was it to spite me? Tell me!"

He finally met her eyes then and, for the first time, Suhad could see that he was fighting back tears as well. "No, you were not the reason. I went to her because I have an obligation and I could no longer ignore it."

"Yes, your ever present duty to produce a child," Suhad bit out derisively.

"Suhad, if I do not have an heir then I will have failed everyone who has come before me!"

"Yes, you must have a successor but must it be her child?" she cried.

Tutankhamun went completely still. "What are you asking me?"

"You were forced to marry her. You are not in love. I would think that a child born of passion would be your choice as heir to your kingdom."

"You must understand...my sister's blood is pure," he explained gently, "I will always be obligated to choose a son from her womb and she will remain my Queen. That path was ordained for me long before I was born. I'm sorry if this hurts you."

The air suddenly seemed too thick for Suhad. To have her greatest fear confirmed by his words was nothing short of devastating. She had long wondered what her child's place would be in his life and now she knew...no place at all. Suhad felt as if she was struggling to breathe and each inhalation was like fire. She was so distraught that she didn't even realize that she was weeping openly until she felt the splashing against her collarbone.

"Of course. I understand. Who am I to upset a practice that has endured for hundreds of years?"

"This is not a reflection on you, Suhad, or my love for you."

"Then why does it feel like it is?"

Her name escaped his lips in a mournful whisper and his arms reached out, whether he meant to touch her or hold her Suhad did not know, but she sidestepped his efforts. "No!" she hissed sharply, "Curse you! Do not seek to comfort me! Not now. Not when you reek of her!"

He dropped his arms, beseeching her helplessly with remorseful eyes. "I don't know what to say to you. I don't have the words."

"Say nothing at all," she replied in a dull tone as she briskly whisked away her tears, "This isn't a revelation. I knew what to expect when I came here. You never lied to me about that. I knew...and yet I agreed to accompany you here despite my better judgment. The choice was mine. So, any pain I feel at this time is completely self-inflicted. Please, save your apologies. You have nothing for which to feel guilty."

She turned and fled from his chambers then before he could say a word in response, fearful that he might break her resolve to harden her heart by pulling her into his embrace and even more fearful that she would let him.