Loving Pride

The Shaving Knife

A day had passed, and Lydia Thorne managed to find accommodation in the cheapest inn in Genham, The Blue Moon.

She had to pay 21 copper Torrens for three nights, and she did pay. Somehow, she even managed to sneak a loaf of bread up to her room from an unknowing bakery owner. It had settled her and Thomas's stomachs for the first night.

Thomas Marquez Agaria didn't like being alone while his mother was away on business again. But he had grown used to it. So much that he burst out laughing whenever his imaginary allies made jokes. He devised strange battles that he fought with a pillow as his shield and a pen as his sword. And always, he fought so ferociously that he emerged victorious in every one of these battles.

But at the end of the day, he'd look at his true friends until he realized he was facing a cracked wall.

Either way, Thomas patiently waited until his mother returned to their inn.

But Lydia Thorne only returned in the night. Even though she occasionally appeared in the afternoon, she'd only stick around until her son had eaten bread and drank soup, then she'd disappear again. Only at night could Thomas feel her proper embrace and gentle kisses, which he loved very much. He couldn't wait to marry his mother when he got older.

Lydia Thorne, on the other hand, was wasting her hours away waiting for a man who neither remembered her nor cared about her. But she loved him with all her heart, and she swore to love him until the day she died.

Every day, she waited outside Hotel Genham Park, as they didn't allow her inside anymore. She hadn't come across Felix or the Colonel, but she knew that he was still inside room 352.

There were still soldiers in the town—soldiers who looked at her with disgust. Lydia had secured herself a spot near the entrance of the hotel so that she could see whoever came in and went out. Out of desperation, Lydia had scavenged a cap and a smelly coat for herself from the trash.

The rains in Genham always left her terribly cold. Hence, she couldn't survive without them. To every wealthy passerby, Lydia Thorne looked like an adolescent beggar, and sometimes the generous ones tossed her coins. She felt disgusted to even look at that money.

She didn't believe in an income that was not earned.

On the third day, when the rains were heavy and cold, Lydia Thorne was crouched on the pavement as usual. She hugged the coat around her and prayed for multiple reasons.

She prayed to keep Thomas safe and fearless during the thunderstorm. He was alone in their room, and her heart ached for him. She prayed for the weather to not be so cold. And finally, she prayed for Colonel Marquez Agaria to remember her—to love her like he had promised.

In the deafening cold weather, her lips and fingers began trembling. She couldn't see because of the intensity of the showers. She couldn't even lift her head because it was painful. Lydia watched as the water carried all sorts of garbage down the streets.

Right then, a half-used cigarette fell from the heavens beside her, and hurriedly, she protected that source of warmth. Lydia had never smoked before in her life, but now she was forced to surrender to the piece of tobacco because her bones had frozen down to the marrow.

In her attempt to keep herself warm, she coughed and wheezed as the smoke entered her lungs. Someone took the cap she had on her head. Petrified, she looked up at the tall men who had scared her.

Colonel Marquez Agaria hadn't noticed Lydia again. Nobody would, especially when she was dressed as a beggar. Only when she scurried for his cigarette did he realize that it was the same girl.

"It's you," he mumbled to himself while standing under the umbrella that a soldier held for him. "What are you trying now, Lydia Thorne?" He asked in a bored tone.

She stood up, hugging the ragged coat around her again. Her blonde hair stuck to her neck as though she were bald. "I was waiting for you, Colonel... But they wouldn't let me in. I thought I'd come and see you again for the job," she replied.

"Your loss for believing I'd help you." He replied before walking past the revolving doors of the hotel.

"But please, Colonel! I need money. I want to work for you. I need to!" She stepped towards him and said, "I can do anything. Sew buttons, polish shoes, wipe windows, anything! Just let me-"

Lydia was shoved back by the soldier, causing her to trip and fall on the pavement. "Keep your distance, lady!" He shouted before following the Colonel inside, who paid no heed.

"Why haven't you asked your men to move that girl?" The Colonel glared at the receptionist, who was busy searching for a cigarette.

"Oh... Well, sir, she had been out there for three days... You know how persistent beggars are. We threw fishwater on her last day, but she didn't budge. We shall handle her by tomorrow morning."

The Colonel was paying attention now.

"She waited three days, you say?"

"Yes sir. Three whole days, just shivering and rotting away on the pavement."

Colonel Marquez Agaria turned to look outside. Lydia Thorne was struggling to get back up on her feet. The rainwater threatened to wash her away with the garbage, but she somehow managed to sit up on all fours until she slipped again and hurt her chin on the pavement. But he watched as she picked herself back up, once more.

A challenge stirred within him.

He took long, casual strides outside, and the young soldier rushed behind him with the umbrella.

When Lydia Thorne stood up steadily and turned around, cold metal rested against her neck. The Colonel was holding something sharp as he stood too close to her. They were sheltered under the umbrella that the soldier held.

"What do you think this is?" The Colonel asked, referring to the sharp instrument in his hand.

"A sh-shaving knife?" She stuttered.

"Yes. It's a souvenir from a friend." He lowered his hand so that Lydia could properly look at it.

"Take it."

She gulped and took the shaving knife from him hesitantly.

"What is written there?" He pointed at the inscription on the steel.

She didn't reply, and he believed that she was testing his patience.

"What are those words, Lydia Thorne?" He repeated, annoyed.

"I... I don't know how to read, Colonel," she replied honestly.

Even though he didn't believe her at first, he saw the cluelessness in her eyes. "Very well. You can read later. There's a train at 8.15 in the morning that leaves for Rovania. There are bogies reserved for soldiers, and I want you to ride in one of them. Come find me once you reach" The Colonel turned to return inside.

"But what do I do with this shaving knife?" She called after him as she was left in the rain again.

"It will keep you from getting killed." He walked past the revolving doors.