#meketaten

[geraldofallon]

Fallen London’s True Identities

Meketaten as the Obstinate Adoratrice

[rayless-reblogs]

Egyptologists are fairly certain about [Akhenaten's] six daughters, who are well attested in contemporary depictions. Among his six daughters, Meritaten was born in regnal year one or five; Meketaten in year four or six; Ankhesenpaaten, later queen of Tutankhamun, before year five or eight; Neferneferuaten Tasherit in year eight or nine; Neferneferure in year nine or ten; and Setepenre in year ten or eleven.

Bust of a young woman possibly a daughter of Akhenaten or an Amarna princess in the court of King Smenkhkare or Tutankhamun, Egypt (c.1360-1350 BC.)

#iregipto #egyptpassion #mbplanet #history #historic #luxor #tutankhamun https://www.instagram.com/p/Cf-Td-0Ljrp/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[tiny-librarian]

An image, sadly damaged, of Meketaten from her tomb at Amarna. She was the second of six daughters born to Akhenaten and Nefertiti.

Source

[asynfulsoul]

I've been digitally painting a bunch of the Amarna period Royals based on what statues and works have been found of them (They'll be posted as they're finished).

The reference image said this was Meritaten, but just how sure historians are of that seems abiguous. I'll run with either Meritaten or Meketaten, daughter's of Akhenaten and Nefertiti :)

I did a traditional mixed media version of this, which can be found here. You can find my painting of Pharaoh Akhenaten in this series here.

[historicwomendaily]

the known daughters of pharaoh akhenaten

[worldhistoryfacts]

The writing palette and brushes of Princess Meketaten, 1300s BCE. Meketaten was the daughter of the Pharaoh Akhenaten and his wife Nefertiti. She seems to have died as a child or young teenager.

{WHF} {HTE} {Medium}

[siriusbstellar]

Love He !! 

AnkhEnAten   “ Honor is the inner garment of the Soul; the first thing put on by it with the flesh, and the last it layeth down at its separation from it.”

Before the fifth year of his reign, he was known as Amenhotep IV

Consort

Nefertiti

Kiya

An unidentified sister-wife (most likely) Tadukhipa

Children

Smenkhkare?

MeritAten

MeketAten

AnkhesenAmun

NeferneferuAten Tasherit

NeferNeferure

SetepenRe

Tutankhamun (most likely)

Ankhesenpaaten Tasherit?

Meritaten Tasherit?

Father  Amenhotep III

Mother  Queen Tiye

[bm-ancient-art]

Princess Meketaten, ca. 1352-1336 B.C.E., Brooklyn Museum: Egyptian, Classical, Ancient Near Eastern Art

Fragmentary quartzite torso of Princess Meketaten. Left arm held under breasts. Inscribed plinth at back. Condition: Head missing. Body and arms chipped. Legs missing. Size: 12 × 6 1/4 × 5 in., 11.5 lb. (30.5 × 15.9 × 12.7 cm, 5.22kg) Medium: Quartzite

https://www.brooklynmuseum.org/opencollection/objects/3133

[mynameisdotty]

Lady of the Two Lands

This is pure speculation on my part to the whole affair surrounding King Tutankhamun's death, the letter to Suppiluliuma, and why Ankhesenamun mysteriously disappeared from the historical record. Obviously, I'll be taking some liberties here and there but I hope to try and keep this somewhat historically accurate.

#TutWasMurderedAndI'llDieBelievingIt

Tags: Ancient Egypt, Ancient History, Political Alliances, Brother/Sister Incest, Royalty, Character Death, Suicide, Sibling Love, POV Female Character, Dialogue Light, Sad Ending

AO3 Link

Her husband is dead.

Her little brother is dead.

Immediately, the servants whisk away his body for preparation. No sooner had his final breath left his body, carrying away his ka, than he was whisked from her only to be seen again when she walked in the procession to his tomb. They have seventy days to anoint his body with the precious oils, to take his sacred organs, to murmur the ancient spells over his still form, and then to wrap him in linen to meet Osiris, and Thoth, and Anubis in the Duat. His life was short, but he pleased the gods with his restoration of their monumental temples and the reinstating of their priests. It will surely count in his favour when Ma’at places the feather of truth on the scale opposite his heart. She is assured that he will make it safely to blessed Aaru like his grandfather before him.

But not his father, she thinks bitterly, no one ever mentions his father - their father- at least not where they think that she or precious Tut could overhear them. She isn’t sure whether it was that snake Ay or her brother who gave that precise command.

“So tragic, to die so young and without an heir to follow him.” The voice is soft and so full of false grief that Ankhesenamun burns “My deepest condolences, my queen.”

“Your words are kind, Vizier.” She replies. She dares not look at him or else she will wrap her hands around his throat and choke the life from him. She has no proof but Ankhesenamun knows that Ay was involved.

So convenient that her brother should die just as he is growing restless against Ay’s hold on him.

“I will see to it personally that he is given the finest burial, that the kings who follow him will say that they wish to enter the next world in such glory. He will be remembered, my queen, of that you can be assured.”

Ankhesenamun has no room to argue with Ay on that. She simply nods and hopes that he will leave her to her grief because she is not just a widow, she has lost her only blood. Could he not let her be in this? Then his words make her stop, make her mind turn on itself like the wheels of one of her brother’s fine chariots.

The kings who follow him.

Of course, Ankhesenamun knew that a new king would need to be crowned, Egypt could not go on without its living god to lead her, but now she stopped and thought about that. In the past, there would have been a royal nursery full of children or a brother or half-brother waiting in the wings to pick up the double crown when it fell. But her womb had only produced two stillborn daughters and when they had left Amarna after her mother had died, the last great queen Egypt had ever seen, it had only been herself and Tutankhamun.

In her childhood, when her father had died, it had been her elder brother Smenkhkare who has ascended to the throne. Tutankhamun was both a young child, younger than her who was the youngest of Nefertiti’s true children, and the son of a secondary wife. It was only after the crown had passed first to her elder brother, and then through more misfortune to her mother, that the crown finally rested upon Tut’s head. By then, everyone else was dead. Meritaten, Meketaten, Neferneferuaten, Setenpenre, all her sisters gone and without children to follow them.

Amarna was a city that was built by royalty and gradually whittled them down until a dynasty had only two small children left to carry on the bloodline.

So, who was the heir now?

---------

Ankhesenamun can’t sleep. The thoughts in her mind are keeping her awake well into Ra’s journey through the Duat. The more she thinks on who could hold the throne in her brother’s wake, the more she worries.

She has no son. She has no other brothers that she could marry like she had Tut. She has no nephews she could crown. No cousins she could marry.

There is only her. She is the last royal in this ancient bloodline that flowed through the founding of their land, who had built the pyramids, who had expelled the Hyksos from the delta and reunified Egypt. All that history, all that glory, and it ended with one infertile girl who had not even seen her twentieth summer. Such an inglorious end. Was this truly what the gods wanted? Had her father’s heresy offended them so much that even after her brother had restored them all that they would still cast their family down into dust?

Ankhesenamun paced from her elaborate bed to the open window where she could watch the moonlight dancing on the Nile. Below her all of Thebes stretched out and was silent in the darkness. The moonlight cast Karnak’s towering walls in eerie white. Beyond the river, was the secret pass that held the bodies of her ancestors. This was what she had inherited. This and the land which stretched beyond the mountains into the horizon until it met the great green of the sea was her’s by blood.

She could try to emulate her mother. The great Nefertiti had taken her husband’s crown when her only true son had died and placed it on her head. She was Neferneferuaten Nefertiti. The Lady of the Two Lands. Protector of Egypt. A true queen. A queen that Ankhesenamun could only aspire to be. What had she done in comparison to her mother’s greatness? Sat in a palace and went along with an advisor who had happily stabbed her father’s dreams in the back and produced two daughters who never drew breath.

But she could be, she thought.

But no, she could never be Queen Ankesenamun in her own right. Egypt was not ready for a queen. Her mother’s reign had been erased as quickly as it had ended, and she had heard no other women attempting such a thing. The king was the god Horus born on this land. There was no female falcon.

There is no one in Egypt who could even compare to her. Ankhesenamun is the daughter of a god, the sister of a god, the wife of a god. What mere mortal could ever hope to even touch her let alone share a marriage bed with her. No, she would not and could not marry an Egyptian. She needed someone who would have a bloodline perhaps not as exalted as her own, but someone who could at least claim to it. For that, she realised, she would only have one option.

From her window, she takes to the wooden desk. On it is piled kohl for her eyes, bright red stain for her lips, oils and perfumes for her hair and her body but she moves them all aside. Instead, she draws a piece of papyrus from where she keeps them ready to issue her royal whims and a pot of black ink and reed pen to write with.

This will also be a first in history, but it won’t be because she is placing the double crown on her own head. Instead, she will be betraying her ancestors by placing the crown on a foreigner’s head and letting him claim her as his wife.

May Amun, and Horus, and Iset…and the Aten of my father forgive me for this. It is the only way.

She dips her reed into the ink and makes the first character of what will be a monumental letter.

She has seventy days.

---------

It has been a full moon before she receives her answer. Her handmaiden presses a papyrus piece into her hand as she ascends her litter to be carried to Karnak. She intends to beg Osiris that her brother will not be judged for whatever sins their father may have committed against them. He had tried his best, her little brother, and he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

She tucks the papyrus next to her breast and carries on her day as if nothing is amiss. If Ay knew what she had done, well, she thinks it wouldn’t matter if she was royal blood or not. She was now a traitor to Egypt and its people and traitors deserved not just death but the complete eradication of their ka. He has his own schemes, his zeal with which he plots her brother’s final journey is proof of that. The man is a snake and always watched the throne with want in his eyes.

As soon as she is alone, she unfurls the message and reads it eagerly.

Her message has been received, of that she is grateful, but the rest does nothing but enrage her.

Deceive them? Why would she? Did this foreign king, this Suppiluliuma, think she enjoyed her country’s enemies knowing of her shame? She could not do the one thing that was required of her as a queen and bear her brother-husband a living son. Did he perhaps enjoy her having to demean herself to him and beg his pardon to please send a son to her, as soon as possible, so he could have what his father and grandfathers never could? The urge to crumple the note and send it into the fire was great but she forced herself to still her hand.

He was sending a chamberlain. He wanted to know the truth of these things that she had sent him before he would do anything. Such an unprecedented thing, Ankhesenamun didn’t doubt that he suspected a trick or trap. No daughter of Egypt ever was sent to a foreign land.

She will accept this. The sooner this man of his reports that her words were true and returns to his master, the sooner she can make sure that Ay’s eyes are the only part of him on her brother’s throne.

---------

The response is even faster this time and Ankhesenamun suspects that it is because this chamberlain was the man who had delivered the message to her handmaiden. He had been and gone again probably by the time she had even read his master’s letter. Still, she is grateful at the swiftness because in only a fortnight’s time she must walk to the great valley and watch as they lay her brother in his tomb and seal it shut for all eternity.

Ay has not made his move yet and Ankhesenamun suspects it is because he isn’t aware of the enemy he eats dinner with each night. Instead, his eyes will be on Horemheb, her brother’s most celebrated general. He was away making war against Egypt’s enemies in the east and probably was not likely to return in time for her brother’s final journey. He was younger, more beloved, and more powerful with an army at his back than Ay could hope to be. Too bad that neither of them would sit the throne if her plans succeeded.

She doubted Horemheb would be any kinder to her if he was the one she had to thwart and not Ay. A military man had no stomach for political games or queens who wanted to ensure their bloodline. What he saw, he would take, and damn the consequences.

“I will send you a son. His name is Zannanza and he is the joy of my life. Make him King of Egypt and there will be a bond of eternal friendship and peace between our peoples. If I find you have played me false, then may the gods curse you for all time.”

Zannanza, she sounds the name over in her mind. A prince of the Hittite king was coming to her. The letter didn’t say when, but she hoped that her prince was already on his way otherwise it would be too late.

---------

The doors to her chamber are thrown open and a guard marches in and delivers her a bloody gift. A head. It is a man she doesn’t recognise but his mouth is opened in a last terrible scream. She screams and retreats from it like it is a cobra which has been placed before her. In her haste to get away, she trips over the hem of her dress and is sent sprawling to the tiled floor. Her handmaidens also scream and when they flee the guards let them by. From behind them, the figure of Ay emerges, looking down on her like she is but a child.

“You have been a very foolish girl.” Ay’s reprimanding voice makes her bare her teeth in anger at the vizier.

“What have you done? Do you know what you have done?” There is only one person that head could belong to. Only one reason that Ay was here chiding her like she was once more a small child caught stealing honey cakes and not his queen.

If you have played me false, then may the gods curse you for all time. The words his father had sent her to forewarn her of her prince’s coming echoed in her mind. What else could he see this as? She had asked for a prince intending to make him a king and instead she would be sending him a headless corpse.

“I have stopped you from delivering our land into the hands of its enemies.” Ay stated, unemotional and detached, as if he was commenting on the quality of linen “I have stopped the Hittites from using your grief as a reason for an invasion. I have saved Egypt.”

“You have cursed me!” she spits back at him, pushing herself to her feet “You have made me a liar and a murderer!”

“No, my dear, you have made yourself that.”

She goes to fly at him, intending to tear his tongue from his mouth with her own hands. She wonders how he will deny his sins before Osiris with no tongue to do it with. The guards are faster than she is, and she is roughly deposited on her silken bed. Normally, to touch the queen in such a manner would mean the removal of the offending hand but she is quite aware that she has no power here. She has been outmatched when she thought she had the upper hand. She wonders how Ay discovered her plot or who had been the one to tell him.

Seemingly to mock her further, or to impress how truly powerless she was, he walks to sit beside her on the bed. She immediately recoils as he reaches out and touches her shoulder. She would rather the lowliest beggar in Thebes touch her so than this man.

“Oh, my dear, your grief has made you senseless. Do not worry, I will keep you safe until you return to us. So much to lose the only family you have, it would drive even the strongest man mad.” Despite the sympathy in his voice, it is clear he is saying this as a performance. This is the story he will tell when asked about why a Hittite prince and his entourage were caught and killed on Egyptian soil. She must go along with this because he has proved himself the victor in this game.

“The Hittites will never forgive you.” Ankhesenamun warns him. If the next king to sit on Egypt’s throne is not Prince Zannanza of the Hittites, then his father will burn all Egypt in retribution. Ay has made sure that is a certainty.

He merely shrugs at that, as if the threat of their greatest enemy with an undying grudge is a minor concern at best. Perhaps he thinks he can lie and say it was a simple accident or that the prince was caught by some bandits on the Egyptian border. Whatever way he will attempt to spin this, Ankhesenamun is certain that it will be his doom and her’s alongside him. If it hadn’t been for her, Prince Zannanza would never have been in Egypt.

“I will never forgive you.” She adds.

“I do not want nor need your forgiveness. All I need is for you to walk beside me. Your father was my good friend, and I would hate to see any harm come to you for the sake of his memory. Your brother is dead, and Egypt needs a king. It is beneficial for us both.”

The thought of marrying Ay makes her want to vomit. He is old enough to be her grandfather. Her father would have never let him touch her, nor would her mother. To suggest he was doing this to honour her father was a mockery of his memory. Royalty did not lie with the common people. Their blood was special, pure, they were the descendants of gods. To become Ay’s queen and be forced to try and produce him an heir would pollute her dynasty for all time. No child of Ay’s would be a true king.

But what other choice did she have? Horemheb was out in the east, her only other hope of avoiding him lay dead with his severed head staring at her with unseeing eyes. There was no other choice.

---------

There are dancers, and singers, and women who wail and tear at their hair in grief for a boy they never knew. The nobles parade in a great train behind their young king, from great-gated Thebes all the way to the lonely valley that will house him forevermore. The sled which carries the golden coffin with her brother’s face is painted with scenes of the next world and is pulled by white mules in golden collars. A priest of Amun chants solemnly, burning incense and cinnamon to ward off any evil spirits who would attempt to interfere with Tutankhamun’s final journey.

And Ankhesenamun walks, Ay beside her in the double crown that proclaims him the new king.

If she had the tears for weeping, she would, but she had wept herself dry the previous night and the night before that one. She had wept every night since Ay had shattered her dreams of ruling the land of her ancestors with a foreign prince and leaving it all to a son of her own body.

When they arrive at the rock-cut doorway and steps leading down into the gloom of the earth, it is only herself, Ay, and the priest which follow her brother down into the dark. The walls are bare rock, roughly cut, and the rooms unpainted save for the final chamber. So much for Ay’s promise that her brother would know only splendour. She is sure the paint showing her brother facing Osiris is still wet. A pitiful excuse for a tomb even for a commoner, a disgrace for a king.

The coffin is opened and there is her brother. Bound head to foot in linen wrappings and ready to meet the gods and their ancestors in the Field of Reeds. She hopes his bark will take him swiftly through the sky and maybe he will sail it down the Nile and pick her up too and they can go together. The priest touches where his lips are covered to allow him to breathe again in the next world. Then they lay the golden lid down over him and he is lost to her. She can only lay a simple wreathe of lotus flowers on the head of her brother’s coffin and hopes that he knows that she will always love him.

She hopes he will forgive her.

---------

That night, she climbs onto the roof of the palace and looks up at the moon and stars. She wonders where her brother’s bark is amongst them. He will be soaring through the sky until he reaches the mountain on the western edge of the world and passes into the Duat.

When she jumps, she has every faith that her brother will reach out and pluck her up. Instead, she falls and falls.

And all is silent and still.

[rudjedet]

Hey Sonja, what do you think of Amarna's art style? I've read some Egyptologists (Cyril Aldred & Erik Hornung) who praise it because it openly portrays affection between the royal family like the grief depictions in Meketaten's death chamber. But Egyptologist Donald Redford criticizes the art bc it depicts Akhenaten as lazy, lounging around, etc. Sorry if this is out of your expertise! My professor never gave her opinion after asking us to read the articles and I wanted to get another view on it

I don’t have an opinion on Amarna’s art style per se, and certainly not one that qualifies it as better or worse than the styles of other Egyptian historical periods. Criticising art styles of (long-dead) societies when you aren’t a member of that particular society seems a moot activity because what I, personally, like or dislike about it doesn’t matter.

Generally when discussing ancient art styles you should be talking about how they would have been perceived by the public of the time, how they’re objectively different from previous or subsequent styles, what this evolution of style (may have) meant, and the effects, if any, it had on the general style going forward. 

So I love talking about how you can see the effects of Amarna art in post-Amarna art, and how dating reliefs that don’t have a regnal year or pharaonic cartouche inscribed is possible because of certain stylistic markers (such as neck folds, slightly protruding bellies). But if I was writing up an entry for a museum catalogue, I wouldn’t say “this relief depicts the deceased in a much prettier/better way than Egyptians did before this”. I can have that opinion in my personal life (and there are definitely Egyptian art styles I think are aesthetically pleasing and would classify as more favourite than others) but again, it doesn’t matter professionally beyond it being an aspect of Egyptian culture I might specialise in.

Obviously I’ll poke fun at Third Intermediate Period attempts at using the archaic grid and failing rather hilariously at it, and go “damn Phucknugget had some hips on him” in my own time. And I certainly don’t mind Amarna art, it’s just that like the entire period I’m not at all interested in it beyond that it happened and had effects. 

[diioonysus]

 @darkmarsmafia asked:   

(Nefertiti?

I know she’s not Greek but I see some other type of cultural beings on your page and I’d like to know if you know some interesting things about her? Anything would help! Thank you :) (p.s. I think I was one of her daughters in a past life lol)

Well, starting with her parentage, there is a lot of uncertainly, but historians believe she is the daughter of Ay, who was a native Egyptian from Akhmim and believed to be the power behind Tutankhamun’s throne. This theory could be wrong because there of some evidence that never had Nefertiti call Ay her father, but there’s a cloud of uncertainty on this aspect.

Her marriage date to Akhenaten is also unclear, but they did have six daughters; Meritaten, Meketaten, Ankhesnamun, Neferneferuaten Tasherit, Neferneferure, and Setepenre.

Back to Nefertiti, something interesting was that she was born in Thebes, which was Egypt’s capital at the time. Her reign lasted from either 1353–1336 BC or 1351–1334 BC.

A interesting fact is that many scholars believe she was a pharaoh, but nobody’s completely sure. But historians believe she was elevated from the role of Great Royal Wife to co-regent (which basically means that the role of leader is ruled by two people or more) by Akhenaten, her husband, before his death. 

Historic records erase Nefertiti from this position and replace her name with Neferneferuaten, or there is a possibility she disguised herself as a male to rule. More theories, but when she took the throne she tried to place the Ancient Egyptian Religion back in place.

Her death is shrouded by mystery, but there are theories to what might have happened. She basically disappeared from historical record around Year 12. Some say maybe a plague or was disgraced and discredited, but if the information above is true about her changing her name and location of ruling then she was estimated to maybe die around 1331 BC.

Thankfully to the hard work of historians, new information was discovered in 2012, an inscription was found mentions the presence of, “Great Royal Wife, his beloved, mistress of two lands, Neferneferuaten Nefertiti,” what this info is detailing is that Nefertiti was alive for Akhenaten's second to last reign, and means the appearance of Neferneferuaten is placed between death of Akhenaten and the accession of Tutankhamnun, and this results in the statement that Neferneferuaten was either Nefertiti or her daughter Meritaten.

Besides her death, her burial is again mysterious. A French archeologist found two female mummies, “the younger lady,” and “The Elder Lady,” that either could be Nefertiti. Historians have pointed towards, “The Elder Lady,” being Nefertiti because the mummy’s age is around mid-thirties to early forties, which is guessed to be Nefertiti’s death age, but also unfinished busts of Nerfertiti’s face resemble the mummy’s face, but this was proven wrong because “The Elder Lady,” was eventually discovered to be Queen Tiye, mother of Akenaten.

This left “The Younger Lady,” mummy who was now believed to be Nefertiti, but yet again, it was discovered to likely be Tutankhamun's biological mother, and without DNA and the bodies of Nerfertiti’s parents and children unable to be found, it is impossible identify her. 

(sources: Dodson, Aidan and Hilton, Dyan. The Complete Royal Families of Ancient Egypt. Thames & Hudson. 2004. 

Dodson, Aidan, Amarna Sunset: Nefertiti, Tutankhamun, Ay, Horemheb, and the Egyptian Counter-Reformation. The American University in Cairo Press. 2009

https://web.archive.org/web/20131012051415/http://cassian.memphis.edu/history/murnane/M_Gabolde.pdf

http://www.oocities.org/scribelist/do_we_have_.htm (that evidence that was discredited))

[castelmelogramo]

Monoteistična faraonska sveta družina. Nefertiti, Amenhotep IV (Akhenaten) in njune tri hčere: Meritaten, Meketaten, Ankhesenpaaten (Ankhesenamun) Amarnski slog. Spremeba. . . . . House Altar depicting Akhenaten, Nefertiti and Three of their Daughters, limestone, New Kingdom, Amarna period, 18th dynasty, c.1350 BCE (Ägyptisches Museum/Neues Museum, Staatliche Museen zu Berlin). (at Neues Museum) https://www.instagram.com/p/BriEZ4QheG7/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=9x4717er4xuk

[tiny-librarian]

The princesses are represented wearing a full-length tight dress with a shawl  and with a representational transparent robe in other representations. The knot is under the right breast with a tassel in a wavy line. The princesses wear the same clothing as that of their mother. Although they are children still wearing the “sidelock of youth”, they are depicted in adult clothing. The princesses are here represented differently from the standard iconography of childhood representations, departing from the norms of depictions of children of their age, creating the model of how an Amarna royal princess should be viewed in the eyes of her people. The royal artists applied presumably a master program even to the royal children, adhering to their king’s overall conceptualization and revolutionary ideas in order to help him spread the word of the Aten and his legacy.

Amarna Royal Clothing, Tradition and Adaptation

[asynfulsoul]

Probably the favourite out of all these Amarna Royals portraits I've been doing. This time Nefertiti! I polished this one a little more and now I'm wishing I'd done the others the same way. Hindsight, or an excuse to make more ;D The others I have done can be found here and here, with a traditional take on the latter here.

[generalcatchopshop]

The writing palette and brushes of Princess Meketaten, 1300s...

The writing palette and brushes of Princess Meketaten, 1300s…

The writing palette and brushes of Princess Meketaten, 1300s BCE. Meketaten was the daughter of the Pharaoh Akhenaten and his wife Nefertiti. She seems to have died as a child or young teenager. {WHF} {HTE} {Medium}

[antiquehistoryliterature]

#3 Writing Palette and Brushes of Princess Meketaten

Period:New Kingdom, Amarna Period Dynasty:Dynasty 18 Reign:reign of Akhenaten Date:ca. 1353–1336 B.C.Geography:From Egypt; Said to be from Upper Egypt; Thebes Medium:Ivory, rush, red, yellow, and black pigments

👑Princess Meketaten was the second daughter of six born to the Egyptian Pharaoh Akhenaten and his Great Royal Wife Nefertiti. She was probably born in year 4 of Akhenaten’s reign. Wikipedia

Died: 1338 BC, Amarna, Egypt

Place of burial: Royal Tomb of Akhenaten