Harlequin Historical August 2016--Box Set 2 of 2 by Lynna Banning

Author:Lynna Banning
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781488006357
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2016-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY

Kiya straightened her wig. She balanced herself on a stack of cushions and peered out through the high window at the throng that had gathered at the end of the dock. The royal herald had just announced her: Hathor Incarnate—the King’s betrothed.

Sighs and whispers rippled through the crowd as the people of the village of Asyut received the unexpected news. The King was to take a third wife—and not just any wife but the Goddess of Love and Abundance reborn. And she was here on this very day, to greet the people of Asyut and grace them with her beauty and love.

Kiya felt nauseous. The henna designs that decorated the sides of her breasts had begun to run, and she was sweating through her white linen tunic. The Goddess of Love and Abundance, indeed.

‘Go, Hathor, your people await,’ urged Neferdula.

My people?

Kiya could not even hear her own thoughts for the blare of trumpets and the thrum of royal drums signalling her arrival.

‘The epitome of beauty and womanhood has graced the House of Horus,’ cried the herald, and it occurred to Kiya that if she delayed any longer he might just promise her arrival would be upon a beam of light.

She imagined it was not King Khufu but Tahar waiting for her on the dock and felt her heart grow light. Then she heard Imhoter’s sobering tone.

‘Why do you make your King wait?’ he called to her from outside the deck house. ‘You are to become Queen soon. You must greet the people of Asyut. You must represent the House of Horus and give them hope.’

Imhoter was the last person Kiya wanted to disappoint, though earlier that day she had all but begged him to release her.

‘But I am an imposter,’ she had explained as Neferdula had lifted a simple linen tunic over Kiya’s head. ‘I am not Hathor but Kiya—a common name for a common woman.’

But the old priest had raised his hairless brow and spoken sternly. ‘Whoever you were before, she is gone. Whatever you wanted before, let it go. You are Hathor now. You are not common.’

‘Nay, you are anything but common,’ Neferdula had said, and Kiya had seen the small woman’s arm muscles flex as she lifted a heavy beaded object resembling a net over Kiya’s head.

The colourful beaded net dress had been settled snugly atop Kiya’s white tunic, accentuating her curves. The dress had felt unusually heavy, and as Kiya had looked down at the beads she’d noticed that some even glimmered in the candlelight.

Neferdula had stood beside Imhoter for a long while, appraising her work. ‘Look at how the gilded beads reflect the golden flecks in her eyes,’ she had commented.

Imhoter had nodded solemnly. ‘There is royalty in you, Hathor, whatever you say, and godliness too.’

‘I fear you are both mistaken,’ Kiya had continued, but it had appeared that the two had ceased to hear her.

‘You belong to Khemet now,’ Imhoter had said before taking his leave. ‘You must bring hope to a dying land.

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