“Now Pharaoh’s other wives eyed me with respect and a little fear whenever we met. A few stared at me with hostility, but only when they thought I couldn’t see. One evening I found a dead frog in my bed. I got rid of it before Kepi or the other maids could see it. I didn’t need more whispers trailing after me. My worst fear was that since that night, Aunt Tiye knew about my ability to read and write. I recalled Father’s fears that his sister would try to force me into the same role as my mother.... Worse, it would be yet another reason for her to keep me in the palace. (Sometimes I really was foolish enough to imagine that she might have a change of heart and let me go home.) I needn’t have worried. About two weeks after the night of the failed plot, Pharaoh became ill again. It was very serious—so serious that not a single hint about his health was allowed to slip out of the royal apartments into the rest of the palace. No one waited on him except slaves, who had more to lose than servants, much more easily, if they talked about anything they’d seen.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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