Page 9 of The Immortal’s Trick (Bound to the Immortals)

It takes less than a sun cycle for my resolve to be thwarted in the worst way possible.

Nebet taps tentatively against the scarred wood outside our bedroom. The sound barely reaches me through the fog of my fury and grief.

“Eshe?” she calls gently. “Please talk to me. You’ve been in there all day.”

I don’t answer. I sit rigidly on the edge of our shared straw mattress, arms wrapped tight around my knees, forehead pressed to the cool wall beside the window.

Outside, the cicadas hum and the late sun paints streaks of pink and red across the sky.

It’s too beautiful a sight for the darkness blanketing my soul.

After a pause, the door creaks open.

Nebet steps in, her movements cautious, as though she fears I might shatter if startled. She crosses the small room with slow steps, her feet whispering against the rush mat. The bed dips slightly as she sits beside me.

“Dinner is ready,” she says after a moment. “Will you come eat with us?”

“No.”

“Please? For me?”

“I cannot look at him.”

Nebet exhales. The quiet weight of it carries more than disappointment—it carries surrender. “Father is doing what he thinks is best. He’s trying to protect us.”

My head whips around. “He’s offering you up like a lamb to slaughter,” I hiss. “The only person he cares to protect is himself.”

She flinches but doesn’t waver. “He has no other choice.”

“Of course he does!” My hands tremble violently in my lap. “He could sell a plot of our land. He could help us find employment. He should do anything he can to keep you from that… pig !”

The silence that follows is deafening.

After Ani told us the truth about the missing crops, I waited for my father to show horror. Regret. Shame.

But Theshan only sighed and nodded, as if confirming a bet he’d expected to lose. It turns out, he already decided his next course of action.

His words from breakfast still ring in my ears, dry and unfeeling: “ It is done. Nebet will be Benipe’s wife .”

I had no chance of protecting my family myself.

I failed.

“There is no guarantee any of those things would save us from destitution,” Nebet says at last, her voice eerily calm. “Father is doing what he believes will guarantee we keep the farm. That Ruia has an inheritance.”

My throat burns. “He’s trading you for coin. Like cattle.”

Not only did Benipe offer to ‘take Nebet off her father’s hands,’ but he also offered monetary compensation for ‘taking away his primary caretaker.’

The word choice still churns my stomach. That wasn’t a marriage proposal. It was a purchase.

“Enough,” Nebet snaps, her voice cracking like a whip.

I stare at her. For a second, my heart lifts.

Maybe—just maybe—she’ll fight.

But when she speaks again, it’s with weary resolve. “There’s nothing we can do.”

My hope shatters. “You can refuse! We can leave. Take Ruia and Sab and go somewhere… anywhere ?—”

“And starve in a poor house?” Nebet cuts in. “Do you truly think that is a better fate?”

“I—” I falter. I don’t know. Not really. But it has to be better than this .

“We’d figure something out,” I say, desperate. “We always do.”

Nebet shakes her head. “Not this time.”

Heat rushes to my face. “Why are you letting him do this to you?”

“I’m not upset the way you are.”

“Don’t lie to me,” I snap. “I know you.”

“I’m not lying,” she says through clenched teeth. “I’m accepting reality.”

“Accepting Benipe?” My voice rises in pitch. “The man is twice your age and smells like spoiled figs!”

“I’m glad I can do something,” Nebet says, suddenly loud, shaking with emotion. “Something useful. I can save our family from ruin.”

Her hand flies up, halting my rebuttal. “I’m nearly nineteen, Eshe.

Most girls are married at fifteen. I waited because I wanted love.

I waited because I thought I’d have time.

” Her voice cracks. “But that time’s gone.

And if this is the cost of keeping you, Ruia, and Sab fed and safe, then I’ll pay it. ”

My anger drains, leaving only cold grief behind. I can hardly breathe past the knot in my chest.

“I don’t want this for you,” I say, my voice barely a whisper. “I want to help. Let me help.”

Nebet reaches for my hand. Her grip is warm, steady. “Then help me by living. Be happy. Marry whom you choose. Dream. Love. Be free.”

I bite my lip hard enough to break skin. I don’t speak. I can’t.

“I will survive this,” Nebet adds. “You just make sure it’s worth it.”

The words break something loose inside me. I stand abruptly. Nebet’s fingers slip away.

She calls my name softly as I turn, but I don’t look back. If I do, she’ll see my tears.

And I refuse to let her see me cry when I’m not the one who just signed away all hopes of a happy future.