While this is a work of fiction, many of the people, artifacts, and beliefs represented here reflect the true history of ancient Egypt.
The pharaoh Hatshepsut ruled ancient Egypt during the New Kingdom’s Eighteenth Dynasty. Her rule started in the late fifteenth century BC and lasted more than twenty years. It is widely regarded as a period of peace and prosperity, celebrated for its impressive building programs and heralded for its advancements in international trade. While Hatshepsut was not the only woman to rule Egypt, her reign was the longest of the female rulers and was, by all accounts, remarkably successful.
Hatshepsut’s mortuary temple, Djeser-Djesru and its surrounding complex, is a popular tourist attraction today, and for good reason. The depictions of her trade expedition to Punt alone are worth the long flight. In addition, she left twin obelisks at the nearby temple at Karnak, one of which still stands and is the tallest ancient obelisk in the world. Another obelisk of Hatshepsut’s is in place in its quarrying site in Aswan, known as the Broken Obelisk, to name just a few of the building projects she’s left behind for history to enjoy. But although the monuments referenced in this story are real, they are referenced without consideration to building dates, as the timeline in this story is unfixed.
As noted in the story, Hatshepsut was often depicted as a man with a king’s bare torso and false beard. Although this strikes modern observers as odd, it’s less so when one realizes that pharaohs are the personification of a male god, Horus, on earth and that ancient Egyptians, pharaohs included, were generally idealized. Our modern notions of portraiture and individuality would surprise ancient Egyptians.
We know nothing of Hatshepsut as a woman or as a mother, but princess Neferura seems to have been her only child. Neferura had the rare distinction of being the child of two pharaohs: her father and her mother. Her father, Thutmose II, died when she was still quite young, although her exact age is unknown. Officially, her mother served as co-ruler with Neferura’s younger half brother, Thutmose III. Hatshepsut’s rise to power is often linked to the rich and prestigious religious role she held, the god’s wife of Amun, a position she passed to her daughter. This is one of the ways Neferura stepped into the role traditionally played by a queen: as a woman, Hatshepsut had no queen, so her daughter was elevated accordingly.
The title of god’s wife was used in earlier periods, and with different gods, but the Theban-based office of the god’s wife of Amun grew in wealth and power at the beginning of the Eighteenth Dynasty with the dynasty’s first queen, Ahmose-Nefertari. The increased status of the role may have been designed to shift power from the local priesthood of Amun to the royal family, which was extending its control at the time, on the heels of national unrest and the expulsion of the Hyksos, foreign rulers who had temporary control over some areas of the country. Some queens, including Ahmose-Nefertari and Hatshepsut, privileged the title even over that of great royal wife, which is to say queen, underlying the title’s prestige.
It’s clear that the title included both political and financial clout, but the daily routine of the god’s wife of Amun is not well understood, and my depiction of Neferura and her troupe is speculative. Similarly, celibacy, which may have played a role with gods’ wives in later periods, was not part of the tradition at this period. The title likely did involve some kind of ritual, sexual stimulation of the god. Indeed, the related title, god’s hand, is a not-so-subtle reference to masturbation, an act linked to the creation of the world in some ancient Egyptian creation myths. We get a glimpse of Neferura in her ritual role in her mother’s Chapelle Rouge bark shrine at Karnak, where the princess is shown in a ritual that seems to involve castigating enemies. The god’s wife is depicted elsewhere participating in cult liturgies, being purified in the sacred lake of Karnak, participating in procession, accompanying priests inside the most sacred areas of the temple, and presenting food to the god, who she entertains with her sistrum. After Neferura, the title was stripped of wealth and power, perhaps as a protection against future royal women using it to launch themselves further, as Hatshepsut seems to have done. But although the title lost some authority, it remained in use for royal woman for generations to come.
In addition to her god’s wife title, Neferura held other titles, including the lady of Upper and Lower Egypt, mistress of the Two Lands, king’s eldest daughter (princess), and god’s hand. The title of great royal wife (queen) is not attested for Neferura, but interestingly, Neferura’s name does appear inside a cartouche, an unusual honor for a princess.
Beyond her titles, virtually nothing of Neferura’s life is known to modern scholars. We don’t know when she was born, how long she lived, if she married or had children, or how and when she died. We have no idea how she felt about her mother or half brother, or, for that matter, the nobles and servants and priests that surrounded her. Still, the fictional account here is built on a few scholarly theories, such as the theory, proposed by Peter Doman, that she married Thutmose III and bore his first son, Amenemhat.
Neferura is also, despite her near invisibility, uniquely featured in an unusual series of statues. Her royal tutor, Senenmut, had figures of the two of them carved and erected throughout the country. The statues are unusually, and charmingly, intimate: Neferura, always a child, sits on Senenmut’s lap, pokes her head out of his cloak, or basks in his embrace. These should be understood, in part, as propaganda pieces designed to advertise his prestige and high position in the court. Senenmut was of humble birth but ascended to be one of the most powerful men in the country. Showing off his close relationship with the royal family would have been an excellent way to herald his clout. The statues of Senenmut and Neferura may, of course, also reflect genuine affection, as depicted here.
The idea that Senenmut may have been Hatshepsut’s lover is suggested, some scholars argue, by graffiti found near Hatshepsut’s mortuary complex, which appears to depict a pharaoh being penetrated from behind by an unnamed man. Senenmut’s name and image were also included behind a door at Djeser-Djeseru, an unusual token of royal affection if the artwork was indeed approved by the pharaoh. He was shown as a bachelor in his own parents’ tomb, suggesting that if he made a match, the match was not officially recognized, as one would expect of the consort of a female ruler. Mysteriously, Senenmut’s Theban tomb, which contains the earliest known star map of Egypt, was unfinished, as was his nearby mortuary chapel. Although none of this is clear-cut evidence that he was Hatshepsut’s lover, or that he was unceremoniously cast out of the court, as represented here, it is atypical enough to invite speculation.
Like Senenmut’s, Neferura’s death is a mystery. The last date definitively associated with her is year 11, which means she was certainly alive in Hatshepsut’s eleventh year on the throne. Neferura was depicted on her mother’s funerary temple, leading some scholars to believe she was alive at the time of Hatshepsut’s death. A tomb some scholars associate with Neferura was discovered in the Valley of the Monkeys, sandwiched between the Valley of the Kings and Queens, near a rock-cut tomb excavated for her mother when she was still queen. The archaeologists who investigated this tomb believed that she died before her mother. Other scholars have argued that she outlived Hatshepsut and may have been the mother of Thutmose III’s first son. The tradition of brother-sister marriages between members of the royal family was well established by Hatshepsut’s reign, and one would expect Neferura and Thutmose III to be paired per the custom of the day. Thutmose III’s first son, the prince in question, Amenemhat, appears rarely in historical records and certainly died before his father, who left the throne to Amenhotep II, one of Thutmose III’s other sons. If Hatshepsut truly did want Neferura or her child on the throne, ultimately, her wish was not granted.
Although this story does not address the mystery, it’s worth noting that late in Thutmose III’s reign, a widespread effort to erase Hatshepsut from memory was carried out. This damnatio memoriae included tearing down and smashing her statues, chiseling her name and image off walls, and even walling up her obelisks at Karnak. Some scholars believe Amenhotep II, the son of Thutmose III who became coregent late in his reign, carried out this program, perhaps because his own royal lineage was not closely linked to Hatshepsut. But such an effort is so rare, one cannot ignore her sex when we interpret it. Indeed, an earlier generation of scholars assumed Thutmose III tried to erase her out of resentment, believing she usurped his throne. But it’s become clear that the erasures occurred more than twenty years after her death, and it’s difficult to understand why, if it was some kind of emotional outburst, Thutmose III would have waited so long to carry it out.
The supporting cast in this story is made up of attested and fictional characters. Queen Ahmose was Hatshepsut’s mother. There truly was a noblewoman nicknamed Thuiu—her real name was Ahhotep. Her husband, Ineni, was a renowned architect who did indeed brag about his extensive gardens in his tomb. Ineni’s tomb was also one of the few places Hatshepsut’s image was not erased, perhaps out of respect for a man who had served such a long string of pharaohs. Hatshepsut did have a Nubian general named Nehsi. He was depicted in the Punt reliefs at her temple in Deir el-Bahri, as was Senenmut, and is credited with leading the expedition. Ahmose Pen-Nekhebet was a nobleman whose autobiography sheds light on the history of the period. He lived through many reigns and claimed to be one of Neferura’s tutors. He may have been the father, or at least a close relative, of Satiah, who was Thutmose III’s queen. She bore the titles of king’s wife, great king’s wife, and god’s wife. Amenemhat may have been her child, but that is speculation and no children are securely attested for Satiah, who died during Thutmose’s reign. Other characters—including Kamut, Iset, Nebtah, Teena, Benerib, and Hathor—are fictional, although Hathor’s character was influenced by the recent discovery of heavily tattooed, mummified woman from Deir el-Medina believed to be a magician and holy woman. Her many tattoos link her to the goddess Hathor. The role of tattoos in ancient Egypt is a fascinating topic. Our understanding of what tattoos meant to the ancient Egyptians, especially women, who bore them has evolved from a belief, common among earlier scholars, that women with tattoos were low-class prostitutes to more recent, nuanced beliefs that tattoos might be linked to religious roles, fertility practices, inscriptions of power or protection, or something else entirely.
A word about words: the ancient Egyptian language doesn’t map neatly to English. Selecting the right words—words that would be faithful to the period but meaningful to a modern audience—was a challenge. For place-names, I chose terms that would be familiar to an ancient Egyptian, although probably, by and large, not to modern readers. The Nile, for example, evokes ideas of Egypt, ancient and modern. But it is not a term the ancient Egyptians would recognize. They referred to the Nile simply as the river, Iteru. But although I often chose ancient words, there are times where I opted for words more familiar for my readers. Pharaoh is a key example. The word stems from per-aa, great house, used a bit like we use White House today and eventually used as a synonym for king. It was not, however, used in this period. Similarly, I chose Adoratrice as a term of address for Neferura even though she did not carry the title of divine adoratrice. The title, associated with the god’s wife, appears later. And yet the god’s wife estate, the per hemet-netjer, literally translated as “the House of the God’s Wife,” was sometimes colloquially referred to as the per duat, “the House of the Adoratrice,” even in some early Eighteenth Dynasty documents.
Finally, many of the small details such as Hatshepsut’s skin condition, the pregnancy test, the food, the religious practices and beliefs, and the quoted texts are based on historical evidence and primary source documents. Other details, such as the way letters are addressed, are simplified with a nod to authentic practices. And some details, such as the description of the palace or the priestess gowns, for example, are educated guesses. In all cases, I’ve worked to represent the people and culture of the period as authentically as I’m able. It is my hope that the spirit of ancient Egypt imbues the pages of this fictional tale of court intrigue, friendship, abuse, and the universal trials and realities women have faced throughout history.