Siblings
Oba | Prentice
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The sound of heels on the hard floor was loud in the empty hallway. What last week was full of the noise of workers was now dead silent. It made the young woman feel a bit uncomfortable, as if she wasn't supposed to be here, as if it were the long abandoned house of some disgraced noble family that was now shrouded in superstition. Though, at the rate things were going, that might not be too far off the mark for the Damaris family. She'd barely been out in society before Deidameia had begun to feel the effects of what her father had done to them. Most people seemed to make fun of her behind her back, when they weren't making rude comments or, worse, propositions to her face to help with her financial problems. She wasn't naïve to the fact that the best way to get her family out of this position was on her shoulders. To find a wealthy man willing to help. She just wished all the options weren't so humiliating. One option would completely ruin her reputation forever. The other was no better. Yes, it would keep her reputation clean, but demeaning herself to beg after a man for marriage was still selling herself short. She was no piece of meat at market, to be judged and gawked over. She knew her worth as a woman of intelligence. If that meant living the life of a normal citizen, so be it. She wasn't afraid of being poor.
But to say that the clear layoffs didn't bother her would be a lie. It was still something she was learning to adapt to, this constant decreasing of wealth around her. Anyone in her position would feel the same, if they had been brought up a certain way and now that was changing slowly before their eyes. Her brother took it the worst of all. As the heir of the family, he expected a certain allowance to be given him. It was still a year away until his own debut at parties, but he still demanded all the best designer outfits as if he needed to dress for one. Her own dresses were repurposed from silks scavenged from cheap stores or old dresses and sewn together by her maid so it was hard to tell they were handmade. As much as she would love to buy one of the beautiful dresses she saw on display every time she went to market, Deidameia understood that she couldn't. Though it was very tempting to give in sometimes when her brother threw a tantrum and got a brand new jacket he was likely to grow bored of in a month's time. Forgotten to the back of his closet, to be found later covered in dust and holes. While she was expected to be paraded around for all the bachelors in her reused clothing. Than again, maybe that wasn't a bad thing. It wasn't like she had any intentions of marrying. At least not for a long time. And not to some random man she barely knew. It would be on her terms. Dion wouldn't have to worry about that.
Stopping in the middle of the floor, Deidameia frowned at her own thoughts. Being bitter about the unfair state of things wouldn't change it. Only made her more annoyed by it, which wasn't something she got any joy out of. She was fortunate already to have a father who recognized her skills with the books. Even if she would never inherit like her brother would, at least there was that. And the fact he wasn't pushing her to marry some rich bachelor, as much as it would help his financial situation greatly. She did want to help but surely there must be a better way? Maybe if Dion could be convinced to stop spending what little they had managed to save, they could pay everyone off in no time.
That made Deidameia frown, again. Perhaps she should be the one to do it? As the big sister, it was her duty to guide her younger sibling in the right direction, to set a good example. Not that that seemed to have done anything before. Still. Duty. It mattered a lot to her.
Now, where was he most likely to be at this time of the day? It was still early, yet. He might still be in his room, preparing for a day, than a night, of fun around the city.
Turning around on the spot, the young girl set off at a brisk pace towards the apartments belonging to Dion. The door was shut, as was proper in a large household, so she knocked, waiting for the servant to open it for her and announce her presence to the teenage boy she couldn't quite see. Not knowing if he was in his dressing room, she stood in the middle of the front room, hands clasped before her in a model pose of dignity and grace. She was left there for many minutes, long enough for the heels of her feet to start to ache but refusing to shift her stance, before he finally appeared. Dressed far better than her, she couldn't help noticing.
"Well," he said, crossing his arms over his chest and regarding her with a tilt of the head. "Strange to see you here. What pleasure do I have of your visit?"
But anything that she had been rehearsing in her head to say was instantly forgotten. "That's a lovely coat." She kept her voice neutral and her hands clasped in front of her, the very picture of demure older sister.
Whether Dion noticed or not, he didn't show anything but pride, making a turn on the spot to show off his new outfit. Deidameia couldn't help making a face behind his back. In an ideal world, she would be the frivolous one. Wasn't that the whole idea of a woman, especially one with a noble standing? To spend and gossip and sit at home with her five children around her feet? There wasn't a life she could want less than that. "Must have cost a fortune."
This caused the expression on her brother's face to harden, his smile turning into an arrogant smirk. She instantly chided herself for letting that one slip. Deidameia was all too aware how jealous he thought she was of his treatment by their father. While that wasn't untrue, it rattled her more how irresponsible he was. He should be the one who saw the negatives in the account books, not her. But he never would. Dion lived for all things fun and that was work. If only he could understand that money had to come from somewhere, it didn't just materialize into his bank account. It was ruining them faster.
"Shouldn't the heir have nice things?" he responded, brushing at a dirt speck on one sleeve. "I will be the one representing the family, as soon as I am allowed out into society proper." As soon as he could attend all the parties, was what he meant. Nothing else stopped him from wandering the city all day, doing the Gods only knew what. It was exhausting to try and track him. She could already feel a tiny headache coming on behind her eyes. He wanted her to argue back, so he could remind her of her own lower status to him. She would not give him the satisfaction. Or of her retreating back. She wouldn't be bullied.
Deidameia's nose went a little higher in the air and she braced her shoulders. "I think you should keep in mind the situation that will affect you most when you take control of this family. If the debts can't be repaid in time, you will come into a broke household."
Dion merely shrugged, adjusting the cuffs of his coat. "Than I'll find some wealthy girl to marry. You're not the only one who can escape that way."
To say this comment made the girl angry would be an understatement. That was all that mattered to these nobles! How well she could marry, who she would marry, when she would marry. Made her want to choose a life of celibacy, it did. While she was thinking of something to say back, her brother moved towards her, walking around her with an easy smile on his face. "It's been a fabulous talk, sis, but I really must be going. Can't keep the boys waiting." Throwing a kiss in her direction, Dion gave a laugh and left the room, Deidameia seething in the middle of it. Oh, the arrogance on him. Why did she ever try talking to him, it did nothing good for her mood. Nor was he her problem. Not that their father was going to do anything about it. And their mother, well. Deidameia didn't want to bother Olena on her rare good days with depressing topics like this. It was unclear at this point if she would ever recover. It was better to let her live out however many days she had left in peace and as much happiness as could be provided.
The Oban girl gave a sharp intake of breath, making a small sobbing sound on her throat. She needed something to distract herself from all these emotions in her head.
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Wordcount: 1556 words
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