enemies. Indeed, he did more, for when her education was finished, he
joined her with him in the government of Egypt, saying:

"I who always lacked bodily strength, grow aged and feeble. This mighty
crown is too heavy for me to bear alone. Daughter, you must share its
weight."

So the young Neter-Tua became a queen, and great was the ceremony of her
coronation. The high priests and priestesses, clothed in the robes
and symbols of their gods and goddesses, addressed speeches to her and
blessed her in their names, giving her every good gift and promising to
her eternal life. Princes and nobles made her offerings; foreign chiefs
and kings bowed before her by their ambassadors. The Counts and headmen
of the Two Lands swore allegiance to her, and, finally, in the presence
of all the Court, Pharaoh himself set the double crown upon her brow
and gave her her throne-names of "Glorious in Ra and Hathor Strong in
Beauty."

So for a while Tua sat splendid on her golden seat while the people
adored her, but in that triumphant hour her eyes searched for one face
only, that of the tall and gallant captain, Rames, her foster-brother,
and for a moment rested there content. Yes, their eyes met, those of
the new-crowned Empress on her throne and of the youthful noble in the
throng below. Short was the greeting, for next instant she looked away,
yet more full of meaning than whole days of speech.

"The Queen does not forget what the child remembered, the goddess is
still a woman," it seemed to say. And so sweet was that message that
Rames staggered from the Court like one stricken by the sun.