The Nobleman's Masterpiece ✔

16 OBLIVION

Midge was sure the last of his insides ground to a halt when Queen reached the bottom and Pan hobbled into his arms. He felt numb; hollow.

Queen had the grace to look up at him. Pan didn't even offer him that much. Gaze low, Pan checked the object in Queen's hand.

It was hard to make out her words, but not her intent. She tugged Queen by the arm. Queen didn't move, not until Pan clutched her knee and lost balance.

Pan's arm around his neck, Queen glanced up at Midge again, and then helped Pan walk toward the café.

Midge stood there like an idiot.

Pan. The Lowlander traditionalist, so strict in her ways that she'd finally broken it off because being with an Elemental was "wrong." The same woman who wouldn't acknowledge that she and Midge were an item for fear of what people might say. And "What if my father finds out?"

The very lengths Midge had gone through, the hoops he'd obediently jumped. And for what?

Those ideals must have vanished sometime during the last two years, because Pan leaned back against the wall and allowed Queen to move the long apron aside and pull her pant leg up.

Pan wasn't even vocal when Queen kissed her knee in plain view.

Midge fought back the urge to vomit. When Queen picked Pan up, no doubt heading back to the café, Midge sat down.

He should have gone down; been the bigger man, checked on Pan, but a part of him hated the two-timer. He hated them both.

From here, Midge could go home. He probably should. If he didn't, he might take a swing at someone. At this moment he couldn't readily say who'd be at the end of his fist. He wished he could hit himself for being so stupid.

Thoughts of leaving weighed on him, but he had a feeling he was forgetting something.

"Hey!" Lydia's voice carried from below.

Closing his eyes, Midge groaned. This was one more thing he couldn't deal with right now. He couldn't leave, not so easily. Yet he couldn't will himself to go back down and get Lydia. The last place Midge wanted to be was Big Henry—a fitting physical manifestation of his misadventures at wooing—but it was the only place he could get some peace and quiet.

From there he stared out at the city, feeling sorry for himself.

No. He wasn't all that shocked, but he'd held out hope. Time was all they'd needed. Midge would have figured out how to sync with Pan eventually. He'd just needed a little more time. Queenie had managed it, of course. As far as DNA went, Midge and Queen were nearly identical. Even the System had trouble telling them apart. They were nearly identical, and now Midge was seeing that bastard's face where his should be.

He had just needed more time.

Lydia's annoying complaints carried from the bottom of the building. She could keep whining though, Midge was done with being everyone's doormat. It hadn't gotten him much. The morning transports were a few hours away still, but Lydia could wait.

War-gen were about—watching them, watching Midge—so she would be safe. So long as Midge didn't head further into the Lower Levels.

Forehead on his knees, Midge tried to keep his heart from popping right then and there.

Queen and Pan. And worst yet, Pan had given Queenie her private name, Willow. She never once offered it to Midge. Granted, Midge never offered his own either but that was a different issue. They hadn't been able to sync and there was no sense in giving out a name Pan could never use. Informal names were reserved for spouses.