The Pharaoh's Daughter by Mesu Andrews

“Rise,” he said in a low growl.
    Every supplicant stood, but no one dared speak. Silence drew into awkwardness.
    Finally, Tut addressed his general again. “You view Egypt through the wary eyes of a would-be king, but Vizier Ay sees Egypt’s king and his would-be heir. You protect Egyptian linen, but you’ve forgotten to defend Egypt’s king.” The young king struggled against his emotions, his cheeks quaking. “General Horemheb, Commander of Egypt’s Armies and Prince Regent of the Two Lands, I see another more worthy of this throne. I hereby revoke your—”
    â€œNo!” A woman’s high-pitched cry sliced the air. Amira Anippe emerged from the hall and fell at Tut’s feet. “Please, incarnate Horus, healer of the Two Lands, and beloved brother of my heart. I beg you to wait until your grief has passed. Don’t change a decision in darkness that you made in light. You and I watched Abbi Akhenaten rule Egypt with emotion and whim, but you have ruled with wisdom and forethought. Senpa needs you now. Let your strong leaders—General Horemheb and Vizier Ay—tend your nation while you tend your queen.”
    Mered heard only heavy breathing and silent yearning in a room filled with Egypt’s future.
    King Tut strummed his sister’s spiraled wig, offering her a sad smile. He kissed her cheek and stood, turning his attention once more to his prince regent. “General Horemheb, you will leave my presence tonight. Return to battle the Hittites, while I tend my wife and rule my nation. You remain prince regent until I have an heir.” He glared at the midwives. “And I’ll have an heir as soon as you fling every male Hebrew newborn into the Nile. Now leave me.” Turning to Ay, his features softened. “The vizier will accompany Senpa and me to Memphis when the queen regains strength to travel.”
    Shiphrah and Puah hurried out of the hall, and Mered furtively touched Sebak’s arm to beg leave.
    The king must have noted the motion, for he barked, “All of you—get out.”
    Mered needed no further prompting. He fairly ran to his wife, who had already fled to the garden on their way home. “Puah, Shiphrah—wait.”
    Both women turned, eyes red-rimmed, tears streaming down their cheeks.Puah ran into her husband’s arms, while Shiphrah stood quaking beside them. “How can we kill the very lives God gave us to deliver? If we disobey Pharaoh, we die; but if we sin against El-Shaddai, we suffer Sheol forever.”
    Mered gathered Shiphrah into his arms as well, and the three formed a tight circle of grief.
    â€œI can’t kill a baby,” Puah whispered, “I can’t.” She buried her sobs in his chest.
    Heartbroken, Mered held both midwives, praying silently for their strength and wisdom.
El-Shaddai, how can You let this happen? Protect Your people, Israel.
    Startled by a hand on his shoulder, Mered whirled to see Sebak and Anippe looking almost as distraught as the Hebrews. “My lord,” Mered began, “I was just … I … may I escort Puah and Shiphrah home before returning to the linen shop?”
    â€œOf course, Mered. Take them back to camp and stay with Puah if she needs you—”
    â€œWait.” Anippe wriggled away from the master’s protective arm. “I could go with them, Sebak, and get instructions from Shiphrah on how to care for Senpa while she’s here.”
    Sebak appeared as confused as Mered felt. “The midwives will care for Queen Senpa. An Egyptian amira doesn’t stroll into a slave camp, my love. It simply isn’t done.”
    Mered watched the amira carefully. She acquiesced, allowing Sebak to corral her waist, but she wasn’t satisfied. Her sharp glances and fidgeting fingers told Mered this amira wanted to follow the midwives for more than instructions on Queen Senpa’s care.
    Master Sebak cleared