Page 9 of The Immortal's Trick
“What about the theatre?” he asks.
I press my lips together and jerk my head to the side.
That’s all the answer he needs.
“There’s a performance tomorrow night. My brother and I plan to attend,” he says it like an invitation. And I know what he’s about to say before he continues, “Would you like to come?”
I want to say yes.
But I can’t.
“My father would never allow it,” I say instead.
His face falls—not dramatically, but enough to show disappointment. “My intentions are noble.”
I don’t doubt that hethinksthey are.
“But I am still a stranger to you,” he adds. “So I understand.”
He offers me a surprisingly formal bow and gestures to the wet clothes behind me. “I’ll leave you to your chore.”
Before I can reply—before I can tell him I’ve changed my mind, that I’d love to go to the theatre—he turns and disappears into the brush.
I stand motionless, heart still pounding, as regret stirs in my chest.
This is for the best.
I have no business befriending foreign visitors, especially handsome ones. It’s asking for trouble. My mother’s fate is proof enough of that.
I glance down at my hands. Myemptyhands.
My coin purse.
Lome never gave it to me.
I suppose he’ll have to return to finish the task of returning it…
I kneel slowly and pick up a damp shawl, shaking out the clinging bits of dirt. I dip it in the stream as a small, traitorous smile tugs at my mouth.
4
The sun shineshigh over the western fields, casting gold across the dust as I finish hanging the last of the wet linens. My hands work automatically, and my mind is somewhere else entirely.
The Greek’s name echoes.
Lome.
It’s absurd. It’s reckless. And yet, since he disappeared into the reeds, I haven’t stopped thinking about him.
I hear his voice in the hush between birdsong. I feel his presence in the brush of wind against my neck. My body remembers his stare, even when my mind tries to forget.
I glance toward the stream.
No one is there.
I shake my head.What is wrong with me?
Voices trail through the open windows as I approach the front door. I push on the weathered wood. The door creaks open just a crack, and I freeze.
