Burdens of Immortality

She didn't want to live for centuries

After enduring three exhausting weeks of arduous travel through the rugged countryside, they finally made their way back to the magnificent palace. Aya eagerly anticipated the comfort of her luxurious quarters and the flock of servants who would cater to her every need and whim. At just eighteen years old, she emitted delicate beauty that had stolen the pharaoh’s heart when he took her as his third wife only a year ago. Her flawless skin glowed in the sun, framed by luscious dark locks and deep, alluring eyes.

***

Although she had initially resisted the arranged marriage, it was a great honor and elevation in status for her family. Yet deep down, her heart still belonged to Tanamet, her first and only love. He was a low-status merchant, and they both knew their forbidden relationship could never be more than stolen moments of happiness during her time living in her father’s house while Tanamet delivered his delectable baked goods.

On her wedding day as Aya said her final goodbyes to Tanamet, her heart ached with the realization that she may never see him again. But he promised to find a way for them to be together, and she clung to that tiny shred of hope as she was whisked away to the wedding ceremony.

Despite the grandeur surrounding her, Aya couldn’t stop dreaming about Tanamet. She complacently followed orders and endured the middle-aged pharaoh’s clammy hands groping at her and his wet kisses on her body. The marriage bed was only visited once a month, much to her relief, and when she became pregnant, the pharaoh showered her with gifts. With the birth of her son, Aya’s status rose even higher, inciting bitter jealousy and hate among the other wives who could only bear daughters. Fearing for her son’s safety and his role as her ticket to higher status, Aya surrounded him with loyal servants from her father’s court. The palace was filled with intrigue and tension, with sharp daggers hidden in the eyes of two wives who held higher status than Aya’s own. And though the pharaoh doted on his son with joy in his eyes, he showed no interest in his daughters, who seemed to fade into obscurity after their births.

***

Aya strolled through the palace, her steps gliding effortlessly as three handmaidens followed closely behind. The grandeur of the long corridors never ceased to amaze her, with its breathtaking wall paintings and magnificent statues of the Gods. Her heart swelled with a sense of longing and nostalgia as she walked, each footfall echoing off the marble floors.

As they reached the ornately carved door to her quarters, Aya’s pace quickened, and her eyes sparkled with excitement. The servants bowed and opened the massive door for her, revealing a lavish room filled with luxurious furnishings.

With a joyful smile on her face, Aya rushed inside and scooped up the chubby baby boy from the nanny’s arms. She held him close, examining every inch of his healthy body. “Is he well?” she asked the old woman who had nursed her as a child.

“He is thriving and content,” the woman replied with a warm smile, bowing her head respectfully.

Aya showered the child with kisses before gently handing him back to the nanny’s care. “My skin feels rough and dry,” she noted, turning to her handmaidens. “I think a milk and honey bath would wash away the grime of the awful travel.”

The young women nodded in agreement and quickly scurried away to prepare the relaxing bath. Aya motioned to her favorite maid to assist with undressing her. “Ugh,” she sighed wearily. “I feel soiled.”

“You will feel clean and refreshed after your bath,” the maid promised, handing her a cup filled with cool lemonade.   

***

The piercing screams and chaotic yells jolted Aya awake from her peaceful after-bath nap. She stumbled out of bed, her heart racing as she spotted Tanamet leaning against the wall with a dark, sinister look in his eyes.

“How did you...” she stammered, fear coursing through her body. “What did you do?” she screamed, horrified by the sight of her loyal servants lying lifeless on the carpet, their once vibrant clothes now drenched in blood. “Where’s my son?” she demanded, panic rising in her voice.

With a firm grip on her arm, he dragged her toward the adjoining room where the old nanny stood trembling, cradling Aya’s baby in her arms.

Tanamet threw Aya to the ground and shouted, “You belong to me!”

She cowered before him, lowering her head and whispering through quivering lips, “Why did you kill my servants? What happened to you?”

“I died,” he laughed. “And now I’ll live forever.”

“You’re not the Tanamet I fell in love with,” Aya whimpered.

“No!” Tanamet laughed again. “I was weak. Now I’m strong, and I do as I wish.”

“Kill me, but spare my son. He’s just an innocent child.” Aya begged with tears in her eyes.

He took a step back and observed her with a calculating gaze. “Your son will be Pharaoh! But that old man can’t touch you anymore. You’re coming with me.” The air hung heavy with tension as Aya resigned herself to her fate, knowing she had no choice but to follow Tanamet’s command.

Continue reading the story in the anthology:

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