The Nobleman's Masterpiece ✔

19 WITH BRAVADO

Sitting in a hotel room, Lydia stared at her reflection. The material of her shirt was the softest she'd ever felt. Everything she wore was tailor made, Joshua had seen to that. Every part of Lydia was primped and pampered as Joshua stood to the side of the room, holding Lydia's new dowry diskette in his hand.

In all honesty, Lydia wanted to tell him to keep it-but she couldn't. Money was never Joshua's objective, self-assurance was. Assuming Joshua was right about the debt, unless Lydia planned to disappear into the Lower-Levels and start life again as a very well-dressed miner, the money Midge held for her wouldn't have much of an impact. It'd be a waste.

Over and over again, Lydia told herself not to doubt it-just believe that it's enough. She hadn't accepted Joshua's suit, but by the end of the night, she'd have to.

So what? It's not the end of it. It doesn't automatically mean marriage. If anything, it might encourage other suitors to come.

Hovering servants rushed around her, fixing every detail.

But maybe having Joshua as a suitor might look bad enough to kill all other potential suitors' interests.

She'd look too desperate. She was desperate.

How the hell did you get here? The mirror held no answer.

But she was here, accepting a suit with the intent to bed the man. This wasn't the time for second guessing, but maybe that was the problem, this disgusting trade.

Was that all Joshua-all Lydia was worth?

No. Lydia shouldn't accept the suit. She should go to dinner, play the part she was supposed to play, lie down at the end of the night, stifle a few gags and take the crawl of shame home.

She'd done far worse for Abraham.

The mirror afforded Lydia a view of Joshua's scrutiny and admiration.

And then there was Joshua, that walking puppet. His face was so different, even the ears were tucked neatly back. The look in his eyes was one Lydia calmed upon seeing. Joshua...her bucked-tooth, scrawny little hero, always trying to save her. Even now. And what did Lydia force him to give in return?

Before a servant could clip her hair, Lydia caught hold of the scissors. "Thanks, but I'll do it myself."

Joshua smiled. "Do you always cut it yourself? The style you wore last season was the best, I think."

Last season must have meant the end of the last school quarter. That had been a rough time.

Lydia had been cutting her own hair for as long as she could remember. Dizzy couldn't be trusted with sharp objects as far as she was concerned. Before that, Milton had done it. It'd been years since he'd found the time. Even without her vision, she'd cut it. When instructed by Abraham, there was no room for mistakes. She'd done it perfectly.

Everyone shuffled out and Lydia was finally finished with her own preparations.

The way Joshua watched her, diskette clenched in his hands, was reminiscent of a crazed fan. Lydia had never performed anywhere professionally though, and her parts in the school activities were minor and forgettable.

Short of one of Abraham's twisted sessions, there wasn't a claim to acting anywhere. Joshua's adoration was misplaced, but so many things about Joshua were.

Joshua ambled over and put the diskette down. "Here. You'd be wise to keep this safe. Credits like these don't come along every day. Short of holding a serious raid, I doubt you'd find this much again in your lifetime."