Act I, Part VIII: The Privilege of Apathy

By Gandosa Arobar, Daughter of Miner Arobar

I knew that my message would find Father quickly once he returned from whatever business called him away in such a haste and I can’t say I’m surprised by his response. His words, verbatim, were: “The House does not grant tax exemption to entire organizations and to even ask such of me or anyone else is absurd. If they feel it is necessary, they may each submit the necessary forms to Neminda, but otherwise, they will be held responsible for the taxes they owe to the House.” He didn’t even seem to care that these people are facing the risk of their homes and lands taken from them; it’s as though he feels this entire situation is just—beneath him. I hate that about him. He’s always been like this—so pompous and arrogant, without a concern in the world for anything but the good of the House and himself and I can’t take it. He talks so much about his concern for the good of his people, but when his people need him to act, he dismisses them just like he is right now, and I won’t let him do it this time. He can dismiss me all he wants, but I know Uncle Athyn will hear me out—at least more than my father did. I just can’t stand idly by as hundreds of people are set up to lose their land holdings, some of which have been in their families for generations and have their spent their whole lives working to get them in the first place. I just won’t allow it. I can’t allow it.

I just wish Father would step outside his bubble for one moment and look at the people he is supposed to be representing and protecting. He has no idea what their lives are like and I doubt he’s ever been worried about how he’s going to feed himself or been too exhausted to work and why would he? He’s spent the majority of his life in the House. He’s never had to scrounge for food or worry about losing his property some unnecessary tax that just lines the coffers of the House! He has always been provided for by the House and that’s why he scoffs at the People who ask for lenience and help, because he’s sheltered from the real world. He thinks his little web of politics is the ‘real world’, but he’s mistaken—the real world is people like Dravyn who are struggling to get by because they’re being strangled by a mix of shifting markets and unreasonable taxes in these trying times and he scoffs at their pleas for help, because he doesn’t understand what it’s like to be them. He wouldn’t dream of stepping foot in Rilms’ Kitchen, because it’s ‘beneath him’, and that’s why he doesn’t have a clue about what it’s like anymore and the fact that he can be so callous towards the Egg Miners’ Union as they labor day in and day out to feed the people of Ald’ruhn, it’s not only absurd, it’s disgusting. He should be ashamed of himself, but he won’t—he doesn’t care. He only cares about his own little agendas and I must say, for a man who prides himself as much as he does on being Redoran, he reminds me more of a Hlaalu than most Hlaalu I’ve ever met.

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But it doesn’t matter that Father doesn’t care for the plights of his people, because I’m sure Uncle Athyn will at least set me on the right track towards helping them even if he doesn’t agree to champion their plea before the Council either. And his advice won’t be just having them all fill out forms that will almost certainly be rejected. Still though, I can’t shake my frustration at Father for being so instantly dismissive towards it. He doesn’t even bother feigning a modicum of concern for his people anymore unless he’s worried it will somehow affect his reputation and that’s why he’s so ignorant to the real world outside of his little bubble. He doesn’t understand the destitute and impoverished are a volatile group. I see it everyday at Rilms’ Kitchen when people who were once reasonable, respectable people, will go into brawls over things as petty as a look that probably wasn’t even meant offensively and his apathy to the plight of the Union will put hundreds of people into that kind of state, but he doesn’t care. He just doesn’t care, because it’s not something that affects his little agenda that he’s working towards. If hundreds of people are in the streets, he won’t care, and why would he? It’s not his problem; it’s the problem of people much lower ranking in the House to deal with, so why should he give it even a moment’s thought?

This is exactly the kind of thing that I hate about the House. The people in power are so removed from the day-to-day lives of the citizens that they write laws and set policies without having any real grounding in how it’ll affect the people they’re writing them for. Even the Councilors like Councilor Ramoran or Councilor Llethri who both came up from being common people like Dravyn or Volene have forgotten what it’s like, but that’s why I put my trust in Uncle Athyn. He was born into the House like Nilas and I, but he’s always been so compassionate towards the common people, just like Mother was. He’s never been a commoner just like I’ve never been one, but he’s not one to sequester himself to the council chambers and only keep the company of others of repute in the Great Houses, no, he’s a man of the people and he says that Father used to be too, but I often wonder if that’s just Uncle Athyn seeing the best in him like he does in everyone. It doesn’t matter though, because even if Father actually once cared about people, that died a long time ago because I’ve never seen it and he got worse once Mother passed.

Regardless though, I need to begin composing my request to meet with Uncle Athyn regarding the concerns of the Union about the taxes the House will levy upon them. I know he doesn’t mind just coming unannounced (unlike Father), but I do try to respect that he is a busy man with a busy schedule and I don’t want to bother him more than I have to.

­-Gandosa Arobar, Redoran Noblewoman