The Nobleman's Masterpiece ✔

2 IN-WAIT

Orb-shaped inhaler in hand, Lydia lumbered out of bed. She needed the distraction, anything to keep from thinking about that jerk Joshua and the night before. Being reduced to using an inhaler wasn't ideal, however.

It was when she put it to her lips that a red light flickered on the ceiling. Lydia's eyes followed the small red dot as it crossed the room. It came back again, a beam of light running along with it. Although she wondered what it meant, she was more curious than afraid. The System was scanning her, but to what end?

The light traveled back again, blinking.

It reached her and stopped. She stared up at it. This was strange even for the System.

Why would the computer scan her?

It's probably faulty. She let out a sigh. With my luck it'll read me as a rogue E and shut this place down. That was its original design after all; finding Elementals without a master.

"System?"

"Command?"

Lydia said, "There was a red light; what was it?"

"The System."

Right eyebrow raised, Lydia tried again. "Run a self-diagnostic."

"Fully operational."

The flashing light on the ceiling zipped past, fading as it reached the wall.

Letting out a sigh, Lydia brought the orb up to study it. She turned and tapped a panel on the wall above her bed and put the inhaler inside. This was the last thing she needed.

Staring up at the ceiling, Lydia fought back the feelings of despair. It would all be all right. Somehow, it would be all right. Her mother or her father would start answering for the bills soon. It would be all right. She just needed to keep busy—keep distracted till then.

Yesterday's efforts undid her and she had to face facts about the tuition. "It's gone, Lydia. You blew it."

It couldn't offset their debt anyway—her debt soon. Worrying about that one diskette was like fretting about a loose thread in the noose. But it had been her chance of escape, too, and she'd lost it. With it, she could have pretended she had an option.

It's just twenty years. All she had to do was have a child of her own who would take her place in twenty years. Then she could be free—in twenty years....

But what else could she do? Lydia's parents had her merely to take over the estate and carry on their name. She admitted something to herself after getting dressed and heading to the kitchen—this was her duty.

The morning lights began to illuminate in Lydia's home and she wasn't all that shocked to see her mother, still dressed for bed, race down the hall and stop at the mouth of the kitchen.

"Milton?" she called out in a whisper.

Lydia was saddened by the sight of her mother's unkempt hair. She looked weak, her grip shaky and unsure as she closed her bathrobe, hiding the nightgown which didn't fit her bony shoulders well.

"No, Dizz," Lydia soothed. "It's just me."

At those words, Dizzy's body drooped. She tucked her hands under her armpits, taking on a guarded posture. "You—you haven't seen your father around, have you?"

Lydia wished her mother hadn't asked. She must have known he wasn't here. What was the point of asking such a stupid question? Shouldn't she be more concerned about the financial pit the family was circling?