If status could be bought, then they would have been one of the most influential nobles in the region. But they were “stuck,” bounds above the average citizen, yet “still” their patriarch was no more than a viscount. Their attempts at garnering themselves a more prominent political image were fruitless, since they were unable to marry into families above them. But, luckily for them, they had something else to keep their house relevant: talent.
Or, more importantly, her talent.
Lynette wasn’t sure what made them realize it. Maybe it was how, when she’d play her flute, everyone in the vicinity hushed to listen. Maybe it was the fact that, no matter how many people gathered around her, she never flinched nor faltered. Maybe it was because they realized how effortlessly she could lie to them, with no one ever questioning it.
Whatever it was, the director took notice of her, and promptly pulled her parents aside.
“That girl of yours has potential,” he said in that same voice of deceptive charm that could make anyone listen to him.
It wasn’t like her parents seemed uninterested in it, either; they both listened eagerly, ready to do whatever necessary as soon as they heard the word money. Back then, the words fame and grandeur lured her into paying attention, too.
“Imagine!” The director gave a wide gesture with such a malevolent smile that it looked friendly. “With the proper training, she’ll be the star of every show. Do you understand where she could be in five years? Why, she’d have seen it all! Adoring crowds from all over will fight to see her up there! Her life will be nothing but luxury, touring with dare I say the most prolific theater company on this side of the continent!”
“The tickets—the sales. We’d get that, won’t we? You’re not one of the bastards that would hoard it?” Her father hadn’t asked that out of concern, but more of greed, something she’d paid much more attention to in hindsight.
The director let out a jovial laugh. “Of course not! Now, I have to keep something in order to keep things going, but this little lady warrants quite the pension! If you’d like, I can arrange it so that a portion of that is always set aside for the two of you. That way, she won’t ever have to worry about making sure it gets to you.”
She’d never see most of it herself, was what he really should’ve said.
“And the touring?” her mother asked. “What will that be like?”
“She’ll see everything Seothia has to offer—including its nobility, of course.”
“She’ll be with the nobility?”
“Why, of course! Nothing but the best. I’ll have you know that only the wealthiest can afford our services and even then there’s still no shortage of requests! I can see it now. She’ll be at the face of every show, attending formal balls under my company’s name. Even the courts of the throne will not be unknown to her!”
…
At first, Lynette didn’t care. She saw it as her way to get everything she could’ve wanted—just like he’d promised her. Though some might consider their house a declining one, that did not mean she was unfamiliar with the luxuries of the wealthy; in comparison, at least a part of her thought that this new life might be dull.
It certainly wasn’t.
She seemed to do much better than what anyone expected her to. She saw herself excel far beyond the others that had joined at the same time—and sometimes earlier—at a far faster rate. The others addressed her in a kind of way that immediately told her hers was an unusual case; a kind of sweetness, like they wanted to be on her good side, but a cutting bitterness that revealed their true thoughts and jealousy.
It was no surprise to her when she’d heard the news; the director had been telling practically anyone who even slightly mentioned it. But the others certainly seemed surprised at the idea.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
“You’re doing what?” one of the women questioned in shock. She was rumored to be the director’s mistress—they spent a lot of time together, when they thought no one was watching.
“The one thing none of you are great enough for,” Lynette replied. She didn’t know what she was doing then—she was just imitating the rest of them until something felt natural. “The lead role of what will undoubtedly be our most successful tour of the year.”
“How?” another asked, mixed with disdain and curiosity.
She shrugged casually. “I suppose the director just sees more potential in me.”
If she had any doubts, she showed none of them. She’d learned a long time ago that showing weakness would only get her eaten alive.
The director strolled by, though the smirk told that he’d known the kind of conversation he’d walked into. “Good morning, ladies!”
“You lied to me,” the mistress said in a near-whisper. Then, as the weight of it hit her, her voice rose. “You lied to me! You said I would always be your closest star!”
And for the betrayal, all he did was laugh. “Well, yes. You are the closest. But sometimes being close doesn’t mean it shines the brightest.”
“After what I—”
“Well, now, you’re here at all, aren’t you? Honestly you should be a little more grateful. Were it not for me, you’d be in the back alleyway of some rundown town. But if you want to go back, by all means, I won’t stop you.” He said it all with a smile.
Everyone seemed to pay attention to what he said; the mentions of an origin. She didn’t have the fortune of being a part of the nobility, or even a moderately reputable family.
And that—the thing she couldn’t change—was her biggest mistake.
As the taunts, jeers, and laughs began, the only thing the mistress could manage was, “N-no of course not, Director. Please excuse me. I stepped out of line.” He walked up to whisper something to her, to which she just blankly nodded.
Lynette, every now and again, considered the kinds of things she saw and wondered if this really was where she should be. But back then, she had yet to build a resolve to leave. She didn’t have her own money, or at least not a lot—her life of luxury was upheld by the “generosity” of the director. Yet… that was the moment when something clicked in her.
If she didn’t leave here soon enough, she’d be in the same position as the mistress… and the countless others that had come and gone before her.
…
For three years, though, she kept playing along. She was the star, after all; the one that they all came to see, the one that they cheered for and offered gifts of trinkets and flowers. A part of her adored that life, while the other knew that it was going to end eventually.
And when it ended, it would be far from pleasant.
She’d gotten a bit more money for herself, playing the lead female role in practically every performance the company put on. Even if she was a legal adult now, her parents still got most of it—she assumed they and the director pulled some strings to keep it that way, especially when she started showing hesitance. Everything she was allowed to keep was safely locked away, far from the others who might use it, and her continued reliance on the others seemed to suggest she didn’t have it at all.
She mentally marked her calendar for a ball the company would be attending, having been able to entrust her belongings to a fallen star who was more than willing to help her for the right price. It was risky to leave with so many people around but, well, that was what the money was for.
Lynette didn’t intend on having a single coin by the time she reached her destination, wherever that would be. And, as awful as that sounded, she was willing to make that sacrifice.
But, until then, it was time to play along. Acting always was her specialty.
“Have you heard what happened to him?” the actress gossiped. Her intentionally loud voice nulled any effect the fan might have done for their privacy.
“No, I don’t think I have,” Lynette lied. She knew exactly what happened, though that was an act, too; she had to become a part of ruining others’ reputations if she wanted to keep her own. “What was it? Something bad?”
The actress’s eyes darted around the room, grinning at all the not-so-discreet listeners. “Oh, his co-star poisoned him! Apparently they’d been fighting for a while—the bitter kind.”
“What a shame,” Lynette said in an apathetic tone.
“I know, right? I think he’s lying. Did you hear what he did last week? Why, they say he’s been going around town a lot. Always coming back with someone new…”
These forced conversations went on for a little longer, until she was sure that she could leave without being noticed. If she realized that someone did notice, some money was enough to convince them to stay quiet. She found the fallen star, made sure she had all her things, then paid them to take her to the border without telling anyone.
She didn’t know where she was going—or if there was even the option of hiding, really—she just knew that she had to get away from here. She wasn’t going to just become another toy in someone else’s game.