Page 11 of The Immortal's Trick
But I don’t need to worry.
Father would never allow his daughters to go anywhere with strange men, not to mention a Greek man, not after everything with Mama.
I brace myself for his furious refusal.
But then Father says with a strange calm, “I don’t see why not.”
My mouth falls open. Fever must have fogged his mind.
“Truly?” Nebet gasps, barely containing her excitement. “We can go?”
“I know how much you and Eshe have longed to go to the theatre,” Father says. “I would not deny you the opportunity.”
Nebet throws her arms around him; even weak, he pats her back. I stand by the door, feet rooted to the floor, not quite believing what I’m witnessing.
What is Fatherthinking?
“Wonderful,” Lome stands from his chair and reaches around Nebet to shake Father’s hand. “I shall return tomorrow evening to escort your daughters into the city.”
Then he turns to me, winks, and says in Greek, “See you soon.”
And just like that, he walks out the door, gone, leaving me stunned, heart pounding. And unsure if I’m awake or dreaming.
5
The air coolswith the approaching night, a welcome balm against my flushed skin. I lean back against the warm stone of the house, letting the rough texture scrape lightly against my shoulder blades, grounding me, as I breathe in the evening.
The scent of dust and distant cooking fires drifts in from the city. Everything feels strangely still—like the earth is holding its breath, just as I am.
Lome could arrive at any moment, and my stomach coils tighter with every passing second.
I can’t decide who I should be when he appears. The curious woman enchanted by a stranger’s voice… or the dutiful daughter who knows better than to let her guard down around strange men?
My fingers fidget with the hem of my linen dress—blue, impossibly soft against my tan skin. Nebet convinced me to wear my finest dress this evening. I’ve worn it maybe twice, back when I didn’t quite fill in the bodice with my girlish frame.
Tonight, however, the dress clings to my chest and waist with feminine appeal. The fabric hugs my legs with each light breeze coming from the fields.
A figure appears on the road.
My breath catches. For a moment, I think it’s him. But no—it’s Ani. I’d know that steady gait anywhere.
I push off the wall quickly, heart skipping, nerves tangling into a new shape. I smooth my dress, tug at the edge of my braided hair.
“Eshe?” My name sounds like a question on Ani’s lips, tentative and soft.
I lift my hand. “Hello, Ani.” I try to make my voice firm, steady, but there’s a quiver in it I can’t hide.
“You look… nice.”
Heat floods my cheeks. The kohl around my eyes feels heavy all of a sudden. Nebet swore the makeup made me look sophisticated. I feel like I’m playing dress-up.
“Thank you.”
He closes the space between us, his gaze sweeping over me in a way that makes my shoulders tense. Not because it’s unwelcome, but because I don’t know what it means. Because part of me wants to step back… and another part wants to step closer.
“Are you here to speak with Father?” I ask, voice rushed, needing to break the silence hovering between us.
He blinks, then his eyes drop to the dirt under his sandaled feet. “Yes. I came to discuss the surplus you and Nebet delivered yesterday.”
