Trigger warning - Neglect, emotional abuse, inferred violence

DORE

Dore entered the Girdwood residence with his footman who had soon chased after him. It was a large townhouse located in the center of the city so his father could easily access any of his factories from it. He went straight to the dining room where he knew his parents would be eating a late dinner.

The dining room was brightly lit with a chandelier. The extravagantly long table was draped with a soft yellow tablecloth with blue embroidery. At the head sat Genow Von Gridwood, the lord of the house. His dark brown hair had started to grey and stress wrinkles lined his forehead and eyes. A familiarly permanent frown rested on his face as he read over the paperwork at the dinner table. For his father work never stopped.

His mother, Vanessa, though still had her youth. She picked at the rich layout of food in front of her. In her late thirties, the years had yet to creep into her beautiful appearance. Her hair was vibrant red as Dore, though he had adopted his father’s serious green eyes. Freckles danced across her jovial cheeks.

Dore shoved the roughly drawn blueprints deeper into his pocket protectively. He knew he walked into a battlefield. His father didn’t bother to look up from his papers upon Dore’s entrance.

“You’re back late,” Lord Girdwood said, but he meant early.

“I walked,” Dore said, insinuating he had left work even earlier.

“Dear, you must be tired. Join us,” his mother said. Her voice had a giggly youth to it supplied by the half-empty glass of wine in front of her. She picked up a little golden bell with a blue string and rang it. Every little thing had to have the family's colors on even the bell. It was his father's pride to buy his way into nobility.

“You should have taken the carriage, the streets are dangerous this late with all those kirze swarming us,” his father noted, still not looking up from his papers. 

Dore didn’t believe the kirze problem was as bad as everyone thought. After all, what could a bunch of Agostogian amount to? They were hardly a threat. But it would be futile to argue about that here. “Yes, sir. I’ll be more careful,” he said.

His mother’s handmaiden entered the room as a response to the bell. Mathilda was roughly the same age as his mother. They had been together since youth like Dore and his footman. As an extra sign of prestige though she had dark hair and light eyes. Light eyes were more often associated with nobility or priests, and her dark hair was proof of no Agostagian heritage. Having a servant with these traits was usually more pricey than hiring any other. His grandfather had spent a pretty penny just so his daughter could have the best servant. She bowed her head to Dore’s mother.

“You called, my lady,” she said.

“Sweetness, get my dear Dore some dinner,” his mother said.

“Yes, my lady.” The handmaiden lifted her head and left the room.

“Sit,” Lord Girdwood said. Dore obeyed and joined them at the dinner table. “Any progress with the project?”

He had asked the question Dore had expected. The handmaiden re-entered the room with two more servants who served Dore and poured him some wine. Dore sipped at his wine, dragging out the response to the question. The blueprints were burning a hole of possibility in his pocket.

“I have a promising design,” Dore said. The handmaiden waved the other servants out of the room. She was good at predicting her master's moods like that. 

“Promising?” Lord Girdwood asked. “When can I expect results?”

Dore put his glass down. “When will Vince return home?” He asked.

His father finally put the papers down. His harsh gaze set on Dore. “Still stuck on that are we?”

“You know I don’t approve of you sending him away.” It had been a constant topic of argument in their household ever since his father announced his plans for Vince’s future development.

“Boys, can we not talk about this tonight?” his mother interjected. “We rarely have dinner together like this.” She took a few more sips from her almost empty wine. She swirled it and stared into the whirlpool in a tipsy daze. “Can we enjoy this?”

“No!” Dore yelled. He can’t just enjoy a dinner without his brother present. “Why did you have to send Vince away?!”

“Will you stop talking about such an insignificant subject,” Lord Girdwood said, returning to his papers like the conversation was over. Dore struggled to restrain his rage. Vince was not insignificant. 

If anything he was the only normal one in this family. Dore had watched him try his entire life to get their father’s approval and not once did he give up. More than that not once did he blame Dore for raising the standard. He always showed him the same amount of admiration that he had when they were children. Just one Dore wished he had been able to protect that.

“Fine… You want to talk business? I’ll talk business. You won’t see any progress until I see my brother,” he said. The threat sounded childish even to him like a kid refusing to do his homework until he got to play.

“Vince is where he needs to be.”

“He needs to be here, so I can help him. If you want him to get his manufacturer’s license, who better than myself to help him study? Father, see reason. Sending him away isn’t going to improve anything,” Dore insisted. This had all happened because Vince had missed just a few too many questions on his manufacturing license exam. He could help out in the factories unless he passed. So unless he passed it he would be useless to their father. Dore knew he could help Vince chance. He wasn’t worthless like their father assumed, Dore had been helping him with his studies throughout their entire childhood and Vince always eventually got the concepts. It just didn’t come as naturally to him as it did to Dore. He knew Vince could do it if he was just given another chance.

His father wiped his mouth with his napkin and gave Dore one final stern look. “This is not a matter for discussion,” he said.

He wouldn’t budge unless Dore did something more drastic. “Fine,” Dore said. He stood to leave.

“Dore dearest, please sit back down,” his mother said.

“I’ve lost my appetite,” he said coldly. Dore took a deep breath and removed the anger from his expression. He gave his best businessman smile and said, “Father, send for me when you send for Vince.”

He walked toward the door. “That won’t be happening,” Lord Girdwood said. Dore didn’t look back. He couldn’t ignore Vince forever. Dore would make sure of that.

Dore stormed into his room; his footman followed close behind him. His room was large, and the servants always kept it tidy for him except for his desk. They weren’t allowed to touch his desk. Piles of paperwork waited for him at home and at work. 

He went to his closet and took out a briefcase. He began shoving clothes into it at random. “I can’t believe him sometimes!” Dore vented more to himself than his footman. “How could he send his own don across an entire ocean just because of a stupid certification exam.” He would say but Dore knew it was just because his father didn’t want to look at Vince anymore. His father now considered Vince a failure.

“I don’t care anymore,” he said moving on to his desk. “I’ll drag Vince back home myself if I have to!” He shoved paperwork into the briefcase too. Even if he intended to leave he could stop himself completely from working. His workers in the factory would be the ones to suffer then, not his father. 

He turns around to his footman, who has been helplessly following him around the room trying to help tidy up his packing so everything will fit. Dore frowned at the footman’s tie clip, it was shaped like a leaf with a blue gem at the end like a water droplet. Yet another symbol of his family. “I want The Innovation set to sail in the morning,” Dore demanded.

“Yes, sir. Of course you do but…” The footman hesitated to finish the sentence. 

“But, what?”

“Will the master approve of this?” The footman asked. He looked more annoyed than wary of the conversation. 

Dore understood this would cause him some problem but it was his job. “Tell him I’m visiting my Aunt.”

“And milady?”

Dore frowned. He clicked the suitcase closed. “Does it even matter?”

The footman raised his hand to say something but decided better. Just like she had been cued, they heard his mother’s drunken hollers through the door. “Doooore! Oh, Dore! You didn’t finish dinner Dore!” She yelled throughout the hall.

She barged into Dore’s room with her handmaiden. She was unbalanced on her feet and couldn’t look directly at Dore when she spoke. “You left so early,” she whined. Her freckled cheeks were flush with the embarrassment of too much alcohol. 

“I’m sorry Mumma,” Dore said. He ran his fingers through his hair. Though exhausted he smiled for her. He looked to the two servants. “You may leave us for now.”

They nodded knowingly and left. They would hide his mother’s outburst well, while he’d keep her company while she sobered up or simply fell asleep. “Come, sit Mumma,” he said as he moved his suitcase to the floor.

Dore helped her tumble her way through the room. “You left me all alone,” she said. She plopped herself onto his bed.

“I’m sorry. I…” Dore looked sad and tired. “I’ve gotten tired with father’s games.” He had been playing them since he remembered. 

“I can’t keep trading my accomplishments for Vince,” he admitted. He’d seen since they were young that Vince couldn’t keep up with the rigorous education that Dore excelled in, so he’d negotiate for Vince. Dore got better grades so Vince got more play time. Dore got honors so Vince could join them on vacation. He’d been fighting for so long and he thought finally since he’d achieved everything his father had wanted for him, then maybe Vince wouldn’t need to achieve it too. Dore could take over the factories and Vince could do whatever would make him happy. 

“Come here, my baby.” His mother opened her arms wide. 

Dore welcomed her embrace, but his mother seemed unaware of her job as a comforter. Her hug was warm regardless. He felt powerless in this endless struggle. “He was supposed to leave Vince alone. I ran the workshop and factory perfectly. That was the deal. I- I thought since it was business he’d keep his word. But… in the end… we’re pawns.”

Dore kneels by his mother. Her arms go limp at her sides as she loses herself. Her empty blue eyes look through Dore. She was just a pawn too. Just a way for his father to obtain the nobility title he desired.

“Where did he go, Dore? He’s gone. He left me again,” she whimpered. Her voice slowly emptied its emotions as her mind slipped off into her own world. 

Dore held her hand against his face. He wished she could comfort him for once, but her clammy hand against his cheek would be the closest he’d get. “I know Mumma. I’m going to go get him. I promise.”

Dore released her hand. It dropped limp. She smiled off into the distance dreamily. “Yes. And then we’ll have dinner. Like a happy family,” she said.

“Yes. Happy…” Dore smiled sadly, a happy family may be impossible for them, but at least he could make Vince feel less alone. “You should get some rest. I’ll go get someone to escort you back.

Dore stood up to leave and he watched as his mother drifted back into her own world. “He’s gone…” she said again.

Soon Dore would be leaving too.

****

The next morning Dore waited by the front door. He nervously adjusted his cufflinks. He wore slightly more formal clothing than the night before, he needed to look proper if he’d be traveling. He couldn’t disgrace the family when going abroad to the Zeri colonies.  He slipped out his watch from his vest pocket and checked the time again. He shook his head. This was taking too long. He wanted to leave as soon as possible.

His footman came rushing down the stairs of the main entrance room, carrying a coat that matched Dore’s outfit.

“About time,” Dore said.

Dore put away his watch. He stretched his arms out behind him and the footman helped him into his coat. The footman adjusted his master’s collar. This close Dore got a better look at his face and noticed a fresh pink bruise on his jawline. 

Dore sighed and said, “How many times have I told my father not to touch what’s mine?” 

The footman stared at him expressionless and picked up Dore’s luggage without a word. Dore supposed this was a common enough reaction. He couldn’t wait to get out of this place; he could always tell his father was in a bad mood if he was violent to the servants.

“Shall we leave now sir,” the footman asked. 

“Let’s get out of here,” Dore declared.

Dore excitedly gets in the carriage. He’d be on a ship to see Vince soon and he’d be able to share all of his new ideas with him. He loved bouncing ideas off of Vince and seeing his reactions always inspired him to create even more revolutionary things. He’d never even thought of a motorized carriage if it wasn’t for Vince’s comment about the possible uses of the smaller engines he had been working on.

As he thought about what fun things he’d do with Vince his footman rambled on. “I’ve sent word to the workshop and the factory of your absence and delivered the designs. The master doesn’t approve of your trip but agrees so long as you stay with Lady Neuberg. The master requests you send him frequent updates and stay in touch with the workshop during your absence. The Innovation be ready to sail upon our arrival.”

The footman looked at him annoyed. “Are you even listening, Sir?” He asked.

Dore was. At least he was a little. It just didn’t matter to him right now. “Vince is going to be so happy to see me,” Dore said. He could see the wide grin on his face already.