A Divine Romance, page 18
“I am Metjen,” he said, in a surprisingly high-pitched voice. “Overseer of the women fortunate enough to receive the favor of Akhenaten, Pharaoh of Egypt. It is indeed a pleasure to receive the resplendent daughter of Potiphera, high priest of Heliopolis.” He gave a slight bow.
“Thank you, Metjen. I am pleased to be so graciously received.” Asenath returned the gesture with a graceful dip of her head.
“Pharaoh, lord of Egypt—long may he live—has requested your presence. He will grant you an audience momentarily. Please be seated. I shall return to usher you in.”
Asenath took the seat he offered, drying her sweating palms on her bare shoulders. She mentally attempted to review her lessons on the protocol for an audience with Pharaoh, but her thoughts kept going back to Joseph. What delays his return? And why am I to have an audience with Pharaoh in his absence? Answers eluded her. Nonetheless, she had a feeling whatever was about to happen could determine the course of the rest of her life.
Moments later, Metjen returned for her, and escorted her into a grandiose hall. It was occupied with several servants and a few nobles, each there to perform a duty. Metjen walked ahead of her as the palatial announcer made her presence known.
“The gift of Ra: Asenath, daughter of His Reverence Potiphera, high priest of Heliopolis!”
A hush fell upon the hall. She could feel dozens of eyes boring down on the mysterious curiosity all had heard about but no one had seen. She could not remember being more grateful for the veil that partially hid her face. Holding her head high, she kept her eyes on the back of Metjen’s gleaming, bald head. He reached the bottom of the stairs leading up to Pharaoh’s raised dais and bowed. Asenath, two paces behind him, did the same.
“The gift of Ra. Approach!” Pharaoh ordered, beckoning her with a wave of his ring-laden fingers.
Asenath began ascending the short flight of stairs, sure that everyone could hear her pounding heart. If the eyes of the nobles present had felt intimidating, the heavily lined, dark pair she approached were even more so. They were bordered by dark, angular eyebrows and set in the aquiline face of the man who ruled all of Egypt.
To his subjects, Pharaoh was more than a man, he was divinely appointed and himself revered as a god—hence his wielding a scepter. Thus, walking up to the large, gold throne, upon which he sat, was indeed intimidating. She took in the majestic, gold-rimmed nemes that crowned his bald head, and the long, midnight black false beard that fell from his chin. Earrings sparkled from both of his ears, as did hieroglyph-bearing armbands on his lower arms and gold rings from almost every finger. Gracing his square shoulders was a broad collar bedecked with glistening chesbet stones.
Stopping two steps shy of the throne, she bowed again.
“Come closer. Pharaoh does not bite.”
As if on cue, the advisors seated on his left and right laughed politely. Asenath ascended the last two steps and bowed to the ground. “Life, prosperity, and health, Your Divine Magnificence,” she said, keeping her face lowered. Pharaoh rose from his throne, leaned over, cupped her chin with his hand, and lifted her face, forcing her to rise. She stood directly before him. He slowly circled her, meticulously taking in her appearance.
“A rare prize indeed.”
“Such unusual eyes,” said the man on Pharaoh’s right.
When she followed the voice, she saw the man vaguely resembled the lord of Egypt, except his eyes resembled a hawk’s, and a lifeless one at that.
“Unusual indeed, Akhom.”
So that is His Radiance! Asenath thought, taking in Akhom’s hardened features more attentively.
Seating himself on his throne again, Pharaoh asked, “Tell us, daughter of Potiphera, is it true that the flower of your youth remains untainted?”
Asenath gasped at his bluntness. Quickly recovering her composure, she answered, “Yes, Your Divine Magnificence.”
Whispers of disbelief rippled across the hall.
“Incredible! If Pharaoh had not witnessed his wisdom firsthand, Pharaoh would have concluded Zaphnath-Paaneah a fool.” Looking around at his nobles, he asked, “Is there a single one of you who would not give his right arm to ravish a prize like she which stands before us now?”
There were murmurs and shaking heads.
“I thought it a jest when he admitted not having much experience with women. But if he has left such a beauty untouched, perhaps his desires lie elsewhere.” Akhom’s insinuation drew a few sniggers from the nobles, but only intensified Asenath’s discomfort. Mercifully, the lord of Egypt contradicted him.
“Pharaoh did not gather that from our conversation. He seemed eager for a wife, but he made it clear he will not take an unwilling bride. In any case, the number of noble women that grace the palace whenever he sits in court is a testament to his charm.”
Which means he has his pick of eager royal women.
Pharaoh continued, “The question then falls to you, gift of Ra. Do you not find him pleasing?”
“No, Your Divine Magnifi—”
“No?” he interrupted, clearly surprised.
“I mean, yes. He is most pleasing to behold, Your Divine Magnificence.”
“Then to what does Zaphnath-Paaneah allude when he pronounces you unwilling?”
He has told Pharaoh I am unwilling! she thought, panicking. “Well, I . . . It must regard the marital condition he stipulated,” she said, beads of sweat breaking out on her smooth brow.
“Condition?”
“That his wife must worship his God and none other, Your Divine Magnificence.”
“Yes . . . Pharaoh seems to recall him mentioning that,” he said, stroking his lengthy, false beard. “Nonetheless, Zaphnath-Paaneah is unlike any other man. He has earned the favor and admiration of Pharaoh. He is fiercely loyal to his God, and who can find fault in him in this regard? His God has made him wiser than all the seers in Egypt! Be that as it may, Pharaoh can see how that condition might not be acceptable to the daughter of Potiphera. Make no mistake, Pharaoh has given his word. Zaphnath-Paaneah shall worship as he sees fit, he and his household.”
And where does that leave me? Asenath wondered, lowering her eyes.
The lord of Egypt carried on. “Pharaoh sent word that my vizier journey on from Memphis, and carry out his planned tour of all the provinces. Imagine Pharaoh’s surprise when he sent back a missive requesting that the matter of his bride be settled first! It is a matter Pharaoh thought long ago settled. Incredibly, he has requested that you, gift of Ra, be given liberty to choose. Per our agreement—and since defying all human understanding, you yet remain chaste—let it be known that you must make your choice before the sun sets this day.”
“Your Divine Magnificence, if I may suggest, I think the matter of her groom should be settled at once if she does not wish to accept his condition, and understandably so. She is clearly a rare prize, and worthy of a royal husband,” Akhom said, leering at her.
Who does he have in mind?
“You have spoken wisely,” Pharaoh nodded. Turning to his scribe, he ordered, “Send a missive to inform my vizier to return for a marriage feast. The maiden’s choice will determine if he attends as groom or guest.”
My choice? Between Joseph and who?
“Gift of Ra,” Pharaoh said, his intimidating, dark eyes piercing her, “if you are unwilling to be wife to Zaphnath-Paaneah, it pleases the lord of Egypt to welcome you forthwith into the illustrious company of Pharaoh’s wives, with all the privileges thereof. A more enviable choice no maiden before you has been given the luxury of making.”
No! Join Pharaoh’s bevy of wives? Oblivious to both her widened eyes, and the shocked expression on Akhom’s face, the lord of Egypt leaned in to within a handbreadth of Asenath, and dropped his voice to a whisper.
“Should Pharaoh have the delight of your pleasure in his bed, rest assured, you will leave it laden with gifts, but your virginity will not be one of them.”
Asenath felt her face grow warm. Too stunned to speak, she lowered her eyes.
Rising, Pharaoh commanded, “Metjen, escort the gift of Ra. See that she is comfortable and honor her choice with the appropriate gifts.”
Asenath bowed low before Pharaoh once more, trying to maintain a calm exterior while her heart was furiously pounding itself against her chest. The lord of Egypt had all but welcomed her into his harem with open arms. It appeared her greatest childhood fear may yet catch up with her. She gracefully descended the stairs to meet Metjen, who led her out of the grand hall through a side door.
“I shall escort you to private chambers reserved for Pharaoh’s special guests, my lady. Please follow me,” the steward of the royal wives said.
As they meandered eastward through private hallways, Asenath remembered the map of the palace. Unless she was mistaken, they were heading towards the wing that housed Pharaoh’s bevy of women. Asenath felt a foreboding chill crawl up her spine. Moments later, Metjen ushered her into a luxuriously furnished chamber that was more like a miniature villa than private quarters. It had a receiving chamber, writing desk, dining section, and a sleeping chamber all enclosed within its extensive space.
“Please make yourself comfortable, my lady. I shall return shortly.”
“Thank you,” Asenath said.
She sank into an inviting couch in the receiving area. Laying her elaborate headdress down at her side, she let her now aching head fall into her open palms. Thoughts sped through her mind faster than she could process them.
Did the lord of Egypt just offer me, Asenath, a place in his harem? . . . If Joseph has told Pharaoh I am unwilling, then perhaps he does not want me after all. The thought stung, though she could hardly fault him. She was unwilling by his standards, and he had a palace full of all too eager alternatives from which to choose. She, on the other hand, had a singular, shocking alternative: her sovereign. This morning she awakened, thinking herself to be in a conundrum regarding what she would do when Joseph returned. Now, she was the very apex of a terrifying marital triangle that included the two most powerful men in all of Egypt. By choosing one, she would inevitably slight the other, and a powerful man with a bruised ego would make a formidable adversary. Pharaoh did mention it was Joseph who insisted I be given freedom of choice. Even the lord of Egypt admits no royal bride has ever had such a liberty. That Joseph would grant her such a choice—something neither her father nor her Pharaoh previously did—spoke volumes about the kind of man he was. One that once chose to face the wrath of a mistress scorned, rather than accept her adulterous offer. He was obviously the better man between her choices, but with whom would she be the better woman? I would not have to recant my beliefs as a wife of Pharaoh. Our marriage would not be based on deceit. Even as she thought about it, she knew that being one of a plethora of royal wives fighting for their husband’s attention would be the realization of her childhood nightmare. There was no doubt the lord of Egypt wanted her. His eyes had made her feel like she was a cornered fawn and he a ravenous lion. But with sixty-six wives to choose from, not counting concubines, she would soon be abandoned to a lavish, but loveless life.
She recalled her mother’s admonishment. Better a small wedding to be the only wife than a royal wedding to be one of many wives.
What would you do, Mother? She was not certain what her mother would do if put in this position, but she knew exactly what her father would say—he had made his aspirations clear since the black day. There was no surer way for Potiphera to gain the ‘eternal favor of Pharaoh’ than to become his father by marriage. But her father was not here. She wondered what Na’eemah would advise and what Heqaib would think. She even wondered what Semat might suggest.
But none of that mattered. At this moment, there was no one to tell her what to do.
You are a woman now, Asenath. You must decide for yourself.
She felt acutely alone.
Alone, afraid, uncertain, and unloved.
From deep in the recesses of her anxious mind, Joseph’s words filtered to the surface. Gazing upon your face would be a rare privilege. One that should be earned by love, not granted by law.
Were she to live a thousand lives, she could never forget those words. Nor would his definition of love ever fade from her memory. Jacob loved her all of her life, and he never loved another woman like he did her . . . That level of sacrifice . . . devotion . . . affection . . . Staying true . . . in life, in death, and beyond; that is what love is to me.
What would it be like to love, and be loved by a man of such character? It would be a dream come true, no doubt. After a past as harrowing as his, Asenath knew this much: Joseph deserved to have that dream come true. He deserved a wife that would embrace all of him and offer all of her. If she could not be such a woman, she would not stand in the way of his finding that woman. Better I live without love than live a lie.
Asenath heard a distinct throat clear and looked up to see Metjen.
He gave a slight bow. “Forgive the intrusion. Apparently when His Eminence, Zaphnath-Paaneah dispatched an urgent missive for His Divine Magnificence yesterday, he also sent this, for you.” He handed her a small leather pouch.
Joseph sent word? Asenath’s pulse quickened involuntarily.
“The rider must be new. He inadvertently left here it at the palace. I have only just discovered it; my apologies.”
Asenath took it, her curiosity peaked. “Thank you, Metjen.”
“A pleasure, my lady. I do hope you have come to your decision. Pray tell me, what should the invitation to His Eminence state?”
“Forgive me Metjen. . . may I examine the contents before I give my answer?”
“Certainly, my lady.”
Asenath opened the pouch and saw a scroll. Her hands trembled slightly as she pulled it out and unrolled it.
Asenath, daughter of Potiphera, high priest of Heliopolis
I hope this finds you in good health. I am sorry for my prolonged absence. Matters of state have kept me here longer than I would prefer, and will further extend my time away from Avaris. Hence, I was obligated to pen a letter informing Pharaoh, lord of Egypt—long may he live, that the matter of our marriage is yet unsettled, for which I take full responsibility. I imagine he may ask to hear your wishes to that end. And I have asked that they be fully honored.
I do not think it fair that you be forced to remain in my home indefinitely, without my presence, while I tour the land, especially since you do not find my proposal favorable. Please know that should you choose to leave, I shall hold no hard feelings toward you. My feelings are quite the contrary, Asenath. You have consumed my thoughts and prayers since the night I first saw you. It may be foolish of me to admit this, but then again, this may be the only opportunity I ever have to do so.
There is not much to see here, at a construction site. But yesterday, I saw something out of the ordinary. Sprouting from the desert sands was a lone bloom. It was a surprise to encounter, but impossible to forget, for it stood out from everything around it. Exquisitely lovely with a fragrance sweeter than perfume, it drew me in effortlessly. I could not take my eyes off it. Wondering what strength it must have to blossom against the odds, I was compelled to pick it up. It has been in my travel cloak since. Though it is worse for wear, and merely a sentimental gift, I could not resist enclosing it here, for the one that embodies everything it called to mind, and so much more.
Should our paths become uncrossed, please know that if ever there is anything I can do for you in the future, it would be my pleasure.
With sincerity of heart,
Joseph
Asenath could hardly breathe. She felt like time had stopped. Now completely oblivious to Metjen’s presence, she raised the flap of the pouch once more, silently praying, Please let it be, please . . . When her eyes fell on the crumpled flower lying at the bottom of the pouch, she could not stop the gasp that escaped her lips. It was her favorite flower: a purple iris.
The invisible God sees me!
Overcome with emotion, Asenath fell to her knees. She could not stifle the sobs of relief and joy that broke forth from her belly.
“My lady, are you all right?” Metjen asked, alarmed, as he reached toward her.
“Yes,” she said, through the tears of joy and relief.
The God of Joseph heard my prayer! He welcomes my worship! Asenath could not stop the laughter that bubbled up from her newly unburdened heart.
“Yes, Metjen,” she said, rising. “I am well; all is well. Please have His Eminence, Zaphnath-Paaneah’s invitation to the wedding feast state thus: ‘Asenath, daughter of Potiphera, will be honored to have you as groom.’”
Metjen’s brows shot upward. “Very well, my lady,” he said with a slight dip of his head. “Nonetheless, His Divine Magnificence has extended you an invitation to remain at the palace until your wedding feast. I shall send for your maidens. If there is anything you need to ensure your utmost comfort, please do not hesitate to send for me.”
“I am most grateful, Metjen,” Asenath said, wishing she could share just how thankful she was. He had scarcely reached the door when Asenath pulled out the single stem whose arrival had just changed the course of her life. It was falling apart, yet she did not think anything more beautiful. It was dying, but nothing could have given her more life.
Affection. Like a tiny spark that lights a forest on fire. That was what she felt kindling in the depth of her heart and spreading through her being. She did not bother to stop the tears effortlessly trickling down her cheeks. Why should she? She was not alone, unseen, or unloved. He sees me; he loves me; he wants me! It was utterly beyond comprehension, but the God of Joseph, Jacob, Isaac, and Abraham cared about a woman that he should consider naught but an insignificant pagan. And he cared enough to show her he did.
Asenath read the missive once more. He may not have explicitly stated that he loved her, but he wrote enough to give her hope. For one thing, he signed this letter with his true name.
“Joseph . . . I am to be the wife of Joseph.” Asenath pressed the parchment to her breast and let herself enjoy the wonder of the strange, warm feelings flooding her heart.
