Three Novels of Ancient Egypt

He opened her palm between his hands and he squeezed it affectionately. “Come to me, Rhadopis. Let this palace be closed and its unclean past be forgotten, for I feel that every day that was wasted of my life before I knew you is a treacherous blow directed at my happiness.”

She had felt like one intoxicated, but now worrying doubts assailed her and she asked, “Does His Majesty wish me to move to his harem?”

He nodded his head, “You shall reside in its finest quarters.”

She lowered her eyes, dumbfounded, not knowing what to say. Her silence took him aback and he placed the fingers of his right hand under her delicate chin and lifted her face toward him. “What is the matter?”

She hesitated a moment then asked him, “Is that an order, Your Majesty?”

A look of dejection crossed his face when he heard the words “an order.” He said, “Of course not, Rhadopis. The language of orders has no place in love. I would never have wished before today to be stripped of my station and become again a human being making his way in life without assistance, encountering his fortune without favor. Forget Pharaoh for a moment and tell me if you do not want to spend your life with me.”

She was afraid he might misunderstand her concern and hesitation, and she said sincerely, “My desire for you, my lord, is as my desire for life itself. But the truth is more beautiful than that. The truth is that I have never truly loved life until I loved you. And the value of life for me now is that it makes me feel your love, and all my senses rejoice at your presence. Is it not an instinctive quality of lovers that they speak the truth? Ask the heart of Rhadopis, Your Majesty, and you will hear what I have already said. But I am confused and must ask why should I close the doors of my palace forever? It is me myself, Your Majesty, and you should love it as you love me. There is not a single part of it that I have not touched, my picture, my name, a statue of me. How can I ever leave it, for here descended the falcon that flew to you with the immortal message of love? How can I ever leave it when here love stirred in my heart for the first time? How can I ever leave it, my lord, when you yourself visited me here? It is worthy of any place where your feet have tread to belong, as my heart does, to you alone, and to never close its doors, ever.”

He listened to her, his senses sharpened, his heart burning and irrepressible. His soul concurred with every word she spoke, and stroking the tresses of her jet-black hair, he took her in his arms and planted upon her lips a kiss moist with sweet nectar.

“Rhadopis,” he said, “O love that has blended with my soul, the doors of this palace will not be closed, its rooms will not be plunged into darkness. It will remain, as we have become, a cradle for love, an amorous paradise, a lush garden wherein the seeds of memories are sown. I shall make of it a monument to love and I will cover its floor and walls with pure gold.”

Her face glowed with happiness, as she confided in him, “May your will be done, Your Majesty. I swear by my love for you that tomorrow I shall go to the temple of Sothis and wash my body with sacred oil to cleanse myself of this wicked past, and I shall return to the sanctuary with a pure new heart, like a flower pierces its sheath and turns its face to the rays of the sun.”

He put her hand on his heart and looked into her eyes, saying, “Rhadopis, today I am happy, I bear witness before the universe and the gods of my happiness. This is how I want my life to be. Look at me. Your dark eyes are more delicious to me than all the light of the world.”

That night the island of Biga slept while love lodged for the first time in its white palace, until the coal-black night gave way before the dreamy blueness of the dawn.

The shadow of love

It was late morning — when she awoke. The air — was hot and the blazing rays of the sun sent light and fire into the world. Her fine nightshift clung to her lissome body and her hair — was spread about in disarray, with tresses draped over her bosom and others cascading onto the pillow.

Blessed is an awakening that stirs beautiful memories in the heart. Her heart was a pasture of joy and the scent of flowers wafted in the air around her and the — world smiled — with happiness and joy. She felt with all her senses rejuvenated, that a radiant new world had been revealed to her, or that she had been created anew.

She rolled over on to her side and looked at the pillow: the hollow where his head had lain was clearly visible and it drew from her eyes a look of deep affection and compassion. She moved her head toward it and kissed it as she murmured happily, “How beautiful everything is, and how happy I am.”