The Mitanni Princess

Escape to this long-forgotten journey deep into the Mitanni Empire where a princess battles her father for a chance to live her own life.

Her future is pending.

The Mitanni Princess Tadukhipa weighs her options: happiness in exile and poverty, death in prison, or a luxurious life of loneliness.

Cursed to love a servant and practice a servant’s trade, Tadukhipa rebels against her father, the King, for a chance to change her destiny.

The Mitanni Princess follows the young girl assumed to be the historical Mitanni bride, Tadukhipa, to Amenhotep III and given the pet name "Kiya" by Akhenaten.

Perfect for fans of Michelle Moran, Amy Tan, and Stephanie Dray.

Anyone who loves bittersweet stories and Ancient Egyptian historical retellings, this Lost Pharaoh Chronicles prequel offers a compelling and imaginative take on the early life of the young woman who became known as Kiya.

With its richly detailed world-building and complex characters, The Mitanni Princess is a must-read for anyone who loves tales of romance and sacrifice.

Grab this gripping historical drama today.

Author Rating:

The author rated this book for ages 13+ for mild violence.

A Servant's Trade

Washukanni, 1353 BC

She was unsure what thrilled her more: the fluidity of the brush in her hand, or the tingling on her back knowing she practiced a trade her father forbade. “For it is not fit for a princess,” Tadukhipa whispered to herself and smirked at her courage to go against the King’s wishes. The desert horizon beyond Washukanni’s walls inspired the blank papyrus in front of her, and soon she brought its beauty inside the small hidden nook of the palace’s temple. 

The thin wood door flew open behind her, knocking into her shoulder. “Aha!” Fadilahipa yelled as she pointed at her younger sister. “I knew it! Father will be angry!” 

“No, Fadilahipa! Please, not again!” Tadukhipa screamed and jumped from the chair, catching the hem of her long dress. Courage to disobey, but not to receive the punishment that follows, she realized as Fadilahipa ripped her linen dress out of her fingers.

“You should be like the rest of your sisters! This time Father won’t take kindly to you! I’m sure of it!” Fadilahipa said, stepping into the growing daylight outside of the nook.

“Please!” Tadukhipa’s hot tears streamed down her face. 

Fadilahipa’s proud grin responded as if to say, “This time. This time for sure we shall see who is Father’s favorite daughter,” and then she took off towards the King’s great hall.

Tadukhipa’s heart dropped into her stomach as she looked around the small nook. Her shoulders slumped as she debated what to do next. The future seemed dismal. She gathered her paints and brushes and fumbled with the wet papyrus. Her feet did her thinking and resolved to walk out with the items of her disgrace to find Atinuk, the seventeen-year-old son of her wet nurse. He had been her friend since she could remember. He would keep them safe while her father scolded her. 

Stumbling into the servants’ wing, all eyes were on her: a Mitanni princess clutching items of a servants’ trade as if they were her own children. That’s how she felt about painting anyway, and her sisters hated her for it. If they were to go against the King’s wishes, they would surely pay for it, and yet she only received a hand slap each time. It garnered more enemies than friends. Even the servants looked upon her with disdain–she was a princess with everything at her disposal, yet she risked it all for what? Painting. 

All except Atinuk, who suddenly tapped Tadukhipa's shoulder. She spun around to meet him, and he caught a paint well as it fell from her arms. 

“My princess, why the tears?” he asked. His big brown eyes opened wide for her as he placed the paint well back into her arms. He wished to reach out, wipe away her tears and hold her close, but he restrained himself with a long breath to calm his desires.

She shook her head. “Fadilahipa…” Tadukhipa said as the tears choked out her words, but she didn’t need to say more.

His eyes dimmed at the news, and he scooped up all the paint wells from her arms. The warmth of his hands glided over her skin as they locked eyes. He loved looking into her eyes, growing greener as her tears watered them like the bright trees that lined the river of the desert.

His fingers grazed hers as he took her brushes, and he tenderly grasped the corner of her wet masterpiece. “I will store these somewhere safe until you request them again, my princess.”

The way he said “my princess” soothed her soul. His tallness and dark defined arms and chest glistened in the morning sun, almost as if the gods had sent him to her when she needed him.

“Thank you, Atinuk,” she whispered as she placed a hand on his forearm. His gaze darted first to her hand glad to feel her skin on his, but then quickly to the others in the room. He noticed that all the servants were still staring at Tadukhipa, so he took a small step backwards. She sharply withdrew her hand. 

“My princess, I am but a lowly servant. I only do as I am commanded,” his words flowed from his lips, but his eyes told her a different story. Then, he remained silent, waiting for dismissal. He hated to see her caught between two worlds: a privileged life that made her safe yet sad, and a one of free will that brought a smile yet punishment.

Tadukhipa’s heart dropped again. She had long ago reasoned she could never be with Atinuk, but today, especially this time, she wanted to throw her arms around him.  

“My princess, you do not want to be found here,” he said referring to the servants’ wing. “Perhaps your chambers would serve a proper venue.” 

She dipped her chin and nodded in agreement. 

He longed to reach out to her, but only whispered, “Be proud of who are.”

A smile grew on her face, and his eyes lit up at her countenance. She loved to paint, but painting held something more, almost a placeholder for the man she had fallen in love with years before. She saw past his short dingy linen tunic and weathered leather belt, the servant’s uniform, and had found a man who cared for her deeply.

They kept each other’s gaze until she walked past him. He turned to watch as she left and noticed she glanced back before disappearing behind the wall. Sadness replaced his smile, for he was but a servant and would never be able to call Tadukhipa his. 

* * *

The guards came to her chambers. Kalipha had dressed Tadukhipa in her purple royal linen robe that graced the floor as she walked and tied a golden chain about waist. She had re-tucked Tadukhipa’s long black hair into her kuressar, the scarf that draped about her head underneath her golden head chain. Tadukhipa nodded to her steward as she followed the guards with her head held high into her father’s great hall. 

King Tustratta sat with his forehead placed between his finger and thumb careful not to touch his conical shaped crown. “What am I to do with you, my daughter?” He lifted his head and returned his hand to the arm of the chair. 

“My King, I–” Tadukhipa began, but her father raised his hand to silence her. Standing and placing his hands behind his back, he dismissed everyone present. His crown added almost two heads in height to his already intimidating size. Upon their exit, he came near to his daughter. The slight jingle from the gold fringed chest plate and the sight of his perfectly coiled beard always struck fear in Tadukhipa, knowing her father to be a mighty warrior-king. 

He placed both hands on her shoulders. “Tadukhipa.” He steadied his gaze into her unwavering eyes she inherited from her mother, and at his dismay, she had inherited his broad face but her prominent cheekbones and dark skin that glistened like wet sand made up for it. “You disappoint me both as your father and your King.”

Tadukhipa had been expecting a beating or hard labor for disobeying her father’s direct command again, but the sadness in his eyes ate at her stomach. She bit her tongue as Atinuk’s words came back to her. I will not let my father define me, Tadukhipa thought and firmed up her stance underneath her father’s heavy hands. “Why, father?” she asked.

At this, he tightened his grip and his brow furrowed. His mouth opened to let her have a tirade of the same speech he had given her many times throughout her life.

But she beat him to it. “Is it because I love to paint, and painting is not a fitting skill for a princess?” She shoved herself out from underneath his grip. “The one thing I could have in my life that brings me joy you strip away!” She felt a stab in her heart knowing he may eventually allow her to paint, but he would never allow her to be with Atinuk. “I am this way, father! My hands seek out the brush and they recreate what I see! I am good at it too! Why can’t I? In the privacy of my chambers? No one has to know! I–”

“Silence, Tadukhipa!” He brought up his hand to smack her across the face, but the flinch in her step and her defiant hazel eyes made him lower his fist. She would not change with one smack. Instead, he clasped his hands behind his back and said, “Come with me.”

They walked along the great stone-built walls of the great hall, looking at the floor length tapestries of the former Kings and their families. 

“Do you see, Tadukhipa? Servants of the Kings made these tapestries. Their daughters were the subjects of the painting, not the painters. These princesses possessed skills in language, literature, reading, politics, negotiation, beauty and charm as will you because you are a princess. You will not spend your time practicing a trade beneath your position. Not only does it tarnish your image, but also my image as King of our great Mitanni Empire. Who can respect a King whose daughter acts beneath her?”

Tadukhipa thought of Atinuk. Or a daughter who marries beneath her.

He noticed the soft glisten in her eyes and softened his tone. “You are my youngest daughter from your mother, and I made her a promise.” His thoughts drifted to memories past as a slight sorrow swept over his shoulders. He turned to her, and Tadukhipa could see in his eyes he wished he would not have promised her mother anything. “I will honor you. You will serve a higher purpose to our country,” he said. “For I am a King whose word is law.” 

“Father! I don’t want to serve a higher purpose–”

“Silence, child! You do not know what you say. You are my daughter! You will be what I want you to be!”

“I don’t want to be a princess! I don’t want to be your daughter! I want my mother back! She would understand! I want to live my life doing what I want, marrying the man I want–”

“The man? What man?” he asked as his hands shot to his sides. “You are fifteen! You should already be married, but I am embarrassed to send you to any man! Now you say you want to marry? Who is it you want to marry? Is this also done behind my back?”

“I just want to decide who I marry!” she yelled back. 

His shoulders let out their tension as his cheeks burned from his boiling blood. “I will decide who you marry! You will be the model queen for whichever King requests alliance with our empire, just as my sister Gilukhipa did many years ago when I was only a boy! You will do as I say. You will not take up a servant’s trade as your hobby. You will learn modesty and obedience even if it kills you. I have plenty of other daughters who are up for the honor of marriage to secure our borders.”

“Then let them take the honor, Father! I don’t want it. I want to live my life the way I want to live it. Please, Father, my King! Please!”

“No! No daughter of mine will ignore their duty and responsibilities to our nation and live selfishly. See to it you follow my order!” Her defiance invaded his soul for that was the reason he loved her mother. She was the only woman either brave enough or stupid enough to question his command, but she at least did it behind closed doors. He loved Tadukhipa’s mother for her courage, but in their daughter, it only infuriated him.

Tears streamed down Tadukhipa’s face. “You would rather my perpetual unhappiness than a small tarnish to your name. You are the selfish one!” 

At this, he did not hold back his frustration and sent a backhand across her mouth. “You will hold your tongue. If you were not–I would hang you.”

“But I am not just anyone. I am your daughter,” Tadukhipa said rubbing her jaw. His heavy golden rings left an emerging bruise on her cheek.

“A disappointing daughter. You will obey me, child. I will see to it. Do not make me see to it,” the King said as he straightened his back and folded his hands behind his back.

Tadukhipa knew that hard stare. His tolerance of her outbursts had grown thin. The last time, he had locked her in her room with no servants to tend to her and no one to talk to for a few days. The loneliness scared her more than anything, and so, she bit her lip as her father stared her down, daring her to say another word.

“I do not want to disappoint you, my King,” Tadukhipa said through her teeth and tears as her gaze shifted to the floor. He still held power over her life no matter how much she spoke.

King Tustratta’s heart cried as he saw his daughter’s spirit break, but it had to be done. “Then do not,” were all the words he could bear to speak. He turned to go back to his throne before she could see the pain in his eyes. It was for her own good.

eBook File Size: 1.2 MB

Paperback Size: 5" x 8"

128 pages

Includes: Exclusive Cover and Interior Formatting

Printed on-demand by Lulu Direct

Book Information

Publisher: LLMBooks Publishing
Published: January 2019 / March 2021
ISBN-13: 979-8727268834
Genre: Historical Fiction

Paperback Size: 5" x 8" - 116 pages

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