But it was not so, for never had the Star of Amen shone half so beautiful, never had they seen such majesty in those deep blue eyes that looked them through and through as though they read the secret heart of every one of them.
Her tall and lovely form had not wasted, her cheeks were red with the glow of health; power and dignity flowed from her presence, fear seemed beneath her feet.
Now no voice was lifted up; they stared at her, and, smiling a little, she answered them with her calm eyes till their heads sank beneath her gaze.

Then at length in the midst of that dead, oppressive silence which none dared to break, she turned, and they heard the sweep of her silken robe upon the alabaster floor.
With an effort two chamberlains stepped forward, their wands of office in their hands, to lead her to her seat, but she waved them back, and said in her clear voice: "Nay, here I am alone; of all the millions who serve her, not one is left to lead Amen's daughter and Egypt's Queen to her rightful place.
Therefore she takes it of her own strength, now and for evermore." Then very slowly, still in the midst of silence, she mounted the greater throne that had been prepared for Abi, and there seated herself and waited.
Now murmuring rose among the courtiers and Kaku whispered into Abi's ear, while the multitude held its breath.

Abi stamped his foot and issued orders which all seemed to fear to execute.

At length he stepped forward, addressing the Queen in a hoarse voice.
"Lady," he said, "doubtless you know it not, but that place is mine; your seat is on my left.

Be pleased to take it." "Why so, Prince Abi ?" she asked quietly.
"Lady," he answered, "because the husband takes precedence of the wife, and," he added with savage meaning, "the conqueror of the conquered." "The conqueror of the conquered ?" she repeated after him in a musing voice.