Unloved: A Sims Story by orenjiAi

A guest! ? Thanks @mercuryfoam for reading my story! I’m really grateful! And I’m sorta glad that readers have this impression of Robert. Hehe

I’m lurking......so may no respond much, but am reading. ?

I like the image shots and your designing. Your house has that nice Victorian look to me.

"LegacySims2017;c-17677727" wrote:
I’m lurking......so may no respond much, but am reading. ?

I like the image shots and your designing. Your house has that nice Victorian look to me.

Thanks! Lurkers are very much welcome too! :)

Unloved 3

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The faint rattling and ringing of Robert's smartphone broke the silence in the attic. Usually, he woke a few minutes before the alarm went off but today it beat him. He felt an unfamiliar laziness stirring within. He almost did not want to get up. But he had a lot of chores to do. He was the Royal Family butler after all. And he already knew what he had to do.

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Every day, Robert spends a good 17 minutes getting prepared. He climbs down the chateau’s wooden service staircases in three. Takes five to boil the water. And another 10 to steep the tea. It leaves him with 25 minutes, plenty of time, to fix up a light breakfast, before the chatelaine, Mistress Adelaida Thebe, goes to breakfast at 6 o’clock in the morning,

https://i.imgur.com/TOqedWZ.png

To his surprise, however, she was already at the tea salon.
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“Dear Robert,” she said. “Would you care to join me? There is something I want to discuss with you.”

The Dubois family had always been by the Royal Thebes’ side from time immemorial. They were stewards, noblemen that managed for and cooperatively ruled with their royal counterparts. They were more like advisors and less than servants. So a Thebe consulting a Dubois as equals would not have been uncommon, instead it was expected.

Or at least that was how it was in the mistress’s head. The truth, however, is that the Thebes (along with the Dubois) have been reduced to “old money” families after the Great Sloth Invasion when the monarchy was abolished. Robert knows well that his Dubois social status has zero bearing in “real” life. But still he continued working for the Thebes despite what his family had to say about “modern slavery”. The pay was good, the tasks were doable, and it keeps a roof over his head. The mistress was kind and motherly too. On top of those, she taught him art, culture, history, and etiquette—all those rich people classes he could never otherwise afford. Where else would he find such an opportunity in this sleepy town?

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Mistress Thebe’s purple eyes were puffy. Either she had been crying or she barely had enough sleep or maybe both. Across her, Robert saw several boxes full of documents, records, and letters; placed on the chairs, and tucked under the table out of immediate sight. She sighed, ignoring the tea he set out in front of her.

“I don’t know what to do anymore, Robert. All these information about Antoine. They are important leads, but they have been...leading us nowhere. Perhaps it’s futile to search for those that don’t want to be found. but—”

“Mistress, if I may, these investigators are nincompoops, why I would—”

“But,” she continued, effectively silencing Robert’s “what ails me would be the Whittaker kid.”

“What has he done now?” Robert asked as he toughened up.

“He’s scheduled an ocular with the National Historic Commission on the fortnight...”

“But we’ve made sure to go above and beyond every preservation rule!”

“And social services...” she snickered “He says that an ‘old fart’ like me is unfit—quite literally—for the role of chatelaine. And he is right, this dated architecture is unfriendly for the elderly and disabled. His goal is to have me removed from Capeside and into some home for the aged, I assume. He’s also legally entitled to the property too. With him being the first son of the branch family. Who knows what vested interest he has for the place? But rumor has it he wants to hand it to the government—make a museum—like they did with the Von Haunts.”

“But if we find Antoine?”

“Antoine can do whatever he wants with it. He’s not that different from the Whittakers, honestly. They prefer to move forward. Throwing their fates at the uncertain when they could’ve already settle here. Princess Cordelia Thebe built this as her summer home. It’s their last stronghold before the Great Sloth Invasion. But much more than some heritage site, this was my home, and my father’s and his father’s father’s. I’d hate to lose it to some Hogan’s Deep Fried Diner. But if someone should benefit from the place, I’d rather much my own than them.”

“I won’t let Whittaker! I’ll find Antoine! I’ll make him change his mind! I have my own investigators! Much better than these riffraff! I’ll find him for sure!”

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Mistress Thebe was impressed by Robert’s enthusiasm. But those are grand promises and she knew better than to hold on to some slim hope.

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Instead she revised her will. The entire estate will go to Antoine’s child, should he have one; else, it goes to charity with Robert managing as chatelain.

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Robert wondered if he’s doing the right thing. He thought the mistress had some very personal matters. Should he be really getting involved with their family affairs? They were Thebes after all and he was a Dubois. Right. A Dubois, a successor of the great steward family, he justified in his mind. He knew what to do and called his investigators.

“Hello?”


* * *


Late in the afternoon, Robert had some good news for his mistress. Coupling the leads from his and her investigators, he had found out Antoine’s whereabouts. Unfortunately, Antoine turned out to be worse than he imagined. Having apparently amassed a huge debt from a failed business, he sold his then-infant daughter to some child trafficking syndicate under the guise of an orphanage in the San Myshuno Spice District. Despicable! Fortunately, there are only 23 Children’s Homes in that area. He can arrange for an adoption for his mistress, and if he ever runs into the syndicates, he has prepared § 1 million’s-worth of mark money to pin them.

He knocked on the door of the study and told her what he knew.
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Back at the chateau, Robert hurriedly dumped some of his mistress' clothes on the bed. He chose several clothes based on their fabric quality and wearability and packed them all into a suitcase. She was likely cold in that hospital gown and she’d ask for warmer clothes. And she might be thirsty too. He made his mind to pick some fruit juice on the way back to the hospital. He wanted to be there when she wakes up. He wanted to apologize for what happened.

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On his way back to the car, Robert felt his phone vibrate. It was an unlisted number. His heart skipped a beat. He picked up the phone.

The nurse on the other end apologized and gave the details of his mistress' passing. There had been a complication on her surgery; an infection. They had done everything to save her, but her fragile health gave out. The time of death is 3:42 AM. He dropped the line before she finished talking and exhaled. He had been holding his breath the entire time.

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Slowly and silently, Robert walked back inside the chateau. He found himself at the tea salon. He looked around aimlessly. He felt like his head was floating several feet off his shoulder. Then something caught his eye. On the table they were talking at earlier this morning, her undrunk tea was still sitting. The plain white mug was glinting in the flickering candlelight its liquid content dark and unreflecting. He held it on both his hands. It had gone cold from being left in the open air. The mistress prefers to drink her tea at a certain temperature. 173 degrees Fahrenheit. She said the flavors were extracted most at that heat and it was when it tasted best. He thought it to be nonsense and preferred his drinks piping hot. He didn't even like tea.

Robert let out an anguished scream. He stood up and threw the mug by the fireplace where it smashed into a thousand pieces. Tea spilled everywhere filling the salon with a sweet jasmine scent. He grabbed the nearest chair and flung it across the room. Why did he have to tell her? Why did he even think it was a good idea? If he had just minded his own business. If he had just washed that darn mug. If he hadn't been foolish enough to believe it might make her happy. Then she would still be here. She would give him an earful about the wasted tea being left to cool. He wouldn't be vandalizing 18th century porcelain. Or worrying about the tea staining the wood parquet. He would be apologizing by offering her a fresh mug of tea. He would serve it with scones and orange marmalade. She would forgive him and they would be drinking it in that same salon talking and laughing about something stupid like tea temperatures. But instead, he was the only stupid one: screaming and sobbing, curled up on the floor. There is no forgiveness. She was gone.
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Robert lost track of how long he was crying in the tea salon. It must've been quite some time as most of the candles have burned out. He stood up gingerly as he felt pins and needles on his sleeping leg. He knew what he had to do; he was the Royal Family butler after all. He would be going into the pantry for vinegar to treat the wood stains. He hoped there weren't any dings on that chair he threw but he would get some walnuts to fix any scratches too. Then he noticed the box of files and clues for Antoine that his mistress left behind. Indeed, he knew what he had to do.

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Robert rang the chauffeur.

"Will? Pack three days' worth of clothes. Bring the limo. We're going to San Myshuno."

Omg poor Rob! :bawling: Now i just wanna hug him lol

Oof ? Adelaida's heart problems gave out at an unfortunate time. Robert shouldn't beat himself up like that but too often the bereaved will feel guilty during the loss of a loved one. I know I have. He's buried it now, but I hope he can move on and forgive himself. He's a good soul.

Im glad Robert's PIs are more competent than those initial investigators. Can't help thinking those guys must've got bribed. ? She's right there!

Thanks for reacting to Episode 3 @Shaymantha and @mercuryfoam! With storytelling like this, my biggest fear is always not having to get my character's emotions across to the reader with my amateur writing. lol

Don't worry about Robert. He's a strong-willed soul. He's the Royal Butler. He already knows what he has to do. :blush:

I don't wanna spoil too much, mercuryfoam, but you're absolutely right!

@orenjiAi I don't know about amateur. :o Stories need not be professionally written to be enjoyable for me. There's a lot more that's conveyed through writing, including how much the writer loves their work and that's the beauty of yours. And I didn't think your writing is amateur in any way either, mind you. I'm thoroughly enjoying your storytelling and you conveyed Robert deeply. Even if you think you didn't, you're only going to get better from here. So don't worry about skill when you're honing it anyway. ?

"mercuryfoam;c-17680352" wrote:
@orenjiAi I don't know about amateur. :o Stories need not be professionally written to be enjoyable for me. There's a lot more that's conveyed through writing, including how much the writer loves their work and that's the beauty of yours. And I didn't think your writing is amateur in any way either, mind you. I'm thoroughly enjoying your storytelling and you conveyed Robert deeply. Even if you think you didn't, you're only going to get better from here. So don't worry about skill when you're honing it anyway. ?

Couldn't have said it better myself @mercuryfoam :smiley: Though i am terrible at writing reviews I do admit :joy:

I read your story and it's great so far. The screenshots are very good and so is the writing.