Chapter 4
Sisterly Advice
Sinta – 1 Year Later
Juggling the mess of bags and boxes in my arms, I somehow manage to wrangle my phone out of my pocket before it stops ringing.
“Yes, hello?” I gasp.
“Miss Cora, Mrs Paulos asks that you detour to the caterer’s restaurant and retrieve a set of display dishes. Following that, she requires you to pick up her gown from the seamstress and have it here at the house by 3pm.” Martha – Mrs Paulos’ secretary and Mr Paulos’ mistress – says. “She would also like me to inform you that the kitchen is closed to you for the remainder of the night as the chef needs no interruptions. Should you need sustenance, we require you to procure and eat it before entering the estate.”
And then she hangs up on me.
My laughter is slightly hysterical, my arms killing me as I again juggled my load to tuck my phone away.
Being used as an errand boy by my sister was one thing. Forced into the same role by my foster mother was entirely another.
Rearranging the garment bags and the two boxes of shoes I was lugging, I give an apologetic smile to the other bus passengers and reach up to hit the stop button.
I look at the bus’s clock while I wait for it to pull over.
1:45pm.
“Fuck my life.” I snarl.
The caterer and the seamstress were on two opposite sides of town.
Like hell would I have time to stop for food.
Morose, listless, I smiled blandly and did an appropriate amount of nodding.
Some self-important female draped in an ungodly amount of fuchsia pink, too-strong floral perfume, and gaudy jewels is ranting to the high society females that had managed to corral me.
She bemoaned that she’d had to wait to be served at Louis Vuitton because all the staff were busy; and how she almost didn’t get her limited edition bag.
Said bag was a disconcerting shade of poop brown and didn’t match her garish outfit at all.
Humming and forcing myself to make an expression of sympathy, I take a large sip of my weak and horribly flavoured champagne.
I wished rich people didn’t have such bad taste in alcohol.
“Sinny, there you are!” My twin – and my only family left in the world – beams as she skips over and grasps my arm. “Sorry ladies, I must steal her away. Important powder room business, you know?” She giggles airily, her smile demure.
The definition of a perfect southern debutante, my sister looked and acted like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.
A carefully crafted image I was sure she was proud of.
A rare unicorn shifter – inheriting that gene from our mother – she was one of the most respected and worshipped creatures of Fae society.
Unluckily for her and our foster parents, she’d been born a twin to a dud Snake Fae who couldn’t shift.
Not that she ever blamed me for that.
Not to my face, at least.
“Oh, of course, we won’t keep you.” One of the too-rich-for-sense women titters, waving us away.
Hustling away from them and into the teaming crowd, I finally breathe a sigh of relief.
“Thank you.” I groan, shoulders slumping.
“Hush, Sinny.” Aletha scolds. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you; stick to a corner if you do not wish to socialise.”
Wincing, I glance to said corners.
All were skilfully hidden by an indecent amount of roses.
“You know tea roses make me want to sneeze.” I defend myself.
She sighs heavily, stopping before the marble stage occupying the far left of the ballroom, the platform decorated with more obnoxious pink tea roses and flowing lengths of light blue and gold ribbon.
Turning to face me, my twin sister looks over my dress choice for the event with a wrinkle of her delicate nose – our nose.
So deceptively similar in looks, most people were shocked to learn we weren’t identical, merely fraternal.
I was olive toned with green eyes and scale Markings, she was pale with blue eyes and elegant celestial-like blue Marks.
Our facial features and height were the same, our hair identical, but that was where the similarities ended.
She embodied our deceased mother, and I took after our mysterious father.
Something our foster parents never let me forget.
My dress was a nice piece, square cut at the neck and tight at the bodice, it fell to my ankles in a flow of black silk with a longer train to the back.
It had cost $80 in a well-known boutique and was probably the most expensive piece of clothing I owned.
Aletha eyed it as if it were dirty and made of hole-ridden cloth.
Her own dress was a white halter neck with a silk under-shift and an intricate lacy overly. It draped over her form and pooled slightly on the floor. The hem sparkled with tiny beads.
I’d seen the price tag earlier in the night when she’d dragged me to her room to show it off.
Then she had makeup artists our foster parents got her tend to my ‘disastrous attempt at being female’.
To put it simply, Aletha’s dress was about three zeros out of my price range, and probably considered too cheap by Mrs Paulos – the foster mother.
“I wish you’d let me pick your dress, Sinny. This doesn’t flatter you at all.” She mumbles, picking at one of the thick straps that overlapped my shoulder. “You look like you are attending a funeral.”
“I like black, Aletha.” I remind her quietly, shifting away from her touch.
She shakes her head, dark curls bouncing. “I know, but you have no fashion sense. Mother would have demanded you change if she’d seen it before the guests arrived.”
I barely stop my lip from curling.
Mrs Paulos had never been a mother to me – more like a drum-beating warden.
But she’d given every courtesy and affection to Aletha, treated my sister like her own flesh and blood.
I may hate the woman for how she treated me, but I thanked fate she had not treated Aletha the same.
My twin was so emotionally delicate that a harsh word could throw her into a rage spiral for a week.
“Lucky she didn’t then.” I dismiss.
“Miss Aletha.” Martha calls politely.
My sister spins to face her, perfect smile in place. “Yes?”
“Your parents are waiting for you on stage – it’s time for the announcement.” Martha tells her, smiling.
Aletha squeaks her excitement. “Oh, of course!”
Spinning back, she smacks a kiss to my cheek.
I flinch, covering it with a tight smile.
“I’ll come find you later.” She beams before rushing up onto the stage.
“Sinta, Mrs Paulos wants you to stand there.” Martha barks, gesturing towards a dimly lit spot by the corner of the stage.
It was obstructed by flowers and flowing lengths of ribbon.
Brows rising, I glance back at a scowling Martha.
Hands on her mauve pantsuit-clad hips and foot tapping, she pins me with a laser stare.
“Now, girl.” She hisses before turning and strutting away.
I glance up onto the stage, finding Aletha at its centre between our foster parents.
Mrs Paulos is already watching me, her lips pursed, the tight skin of her face pinching with displeasure.
Both of them Caucasian with perfect blond hair and blue eyes, the image of health and riches, our foster parents were Pegasus shifters and prominent members of the House of Onyx and Bone – one of the six eternal Houses of the Fae.
Having already birthed and raised four perfect male Pegasus shifters, they went on to foster promising young Fae that only bolstered their image of ‘perfect high society members’.
Dressed all in white as they were, it almost seemed as if they were attempting to appear holy, maybe even deified.
It made me snort even as I bowed my head to the burning pressure of Mrs Paulos’s glare and moved to take my assigned place – out of view of the guests and barely able to see the stage myself.
“Everyone, if I could have your attention please!” Martha calls, her voice slicing through the hum of chatter and the light classical music of the orchestra. “Your gracious hosts would like to make an announcement, so if you could please lend us your eyes and ears.”
Over 500 of New York’s Fae elite quiet and turn towards the stage.
“Thank you.” Mr Paulos thunders into the marble room. “My wife and I are pleased to have you here with us tonight, to be able to share our happy news with you all – our closest friends.”
Oh please, half of these people would stab them in the back if it meant more riches and power.
Throwing back the rest of my nasty champagne and dumping the glass in a plant, I fold my arms under my breasts and shuffle my feet, feeling a rush of impatience.
The smattering of light, polite clapping ends as quickly as it started, and Mr Paulos continues.
“This beautiful gem of a female has grown into a strong, powerful adult. And though it saddens us, it means it is time for her to leave the nest and spread her wings out in the world.”
The crowd awws, and Aletha blushes prettily, her smile bashful.
“Mrs Paulos and I will be sad to once again have an empty home – but we are so proud of our daughter.” He continues, smiling like a car salesman. “And even prouder to announce that she has been accepted into the best Academy money can buy.”
What?
Confused, I stare at my sister.
She’s grinning, her eyes shining with triumph and haughty pride.
But I don’t understand. She hadn’t told me she was applying to an Academy.
The most she had ever said about her future was marriage to a rich elite male, and becoming a social media influencer.
No plans for an Academic career.
Why wouldn’t she tell me…..
“As of a week from now, our dearest Aletha will be following the Paulos legacy and attending the hallowed halls of Fairview Academy – to pursue whatever future she deems acceptable. And we are all too happy to support her through it.”
The ballroom erupts into celebratory applause, and I’m left to stare dumbly at my delighted sister, sandwiched in a hug between our foster parents.
Having only graduated from High School last year, I’d been saving to pay my way into Fairview since grade nine.
I’d already taken the entrance exam and was awaiting the results due in the mail sometime this week.
The best of the four Fae Academies earth had to offer, attending it had been my goal for as long as I could remember. I may not have an exact idea of a career yet, but I knew the only way to really get somewhere in this life was to be able to say I had attended Fairview.
Aletha, more concerned with society events and shopping, had never said anything about further education.
Hell, I was the only reason she’d graduated. For so long I had allowed her to manipulate me into completing her assignments and proofing her homework.
How on earth would she be able to pass academy courses on her lonesome?
Feeling oddly numb even as my beast thrashes, I stood there and watched Aletha clutch at our foster parents’ hands and beam out at the clapping guests.
“I’ve been thinking about my future, and where I see myself years from now,” She glances towards Mr Paulos, sharing a grin. “Even more so after graduating High School. And I believe I would enjoy studying media relations and perhaps even a course or two on web design – both valuable tools concerning charity work and fundraising. So that, one day,” She shares an adoring smile with Mrs Paulos. “I may help my mother with the many amazing charities and works she so beautifully runs for our community. So that I can return all the kindness and love my parents have generously shown me.”
The applause was near deafening, my sister’s smile radiant, and the pompous pride wafting from Mr and Mrs Paulos too much to bear.
Swallowing past the hard lump in my throat, I turn and begin to make my way from the room.
I tried to tell myself there was no real reason to be upset – if I passed the entrance exam then Aletha and I would be at the Academy together. I wouldn’t miss her and have to make trips home to visit during school breaks.
I wouldn’t have to see my foster parents at all now –would never have to return to the Paulos Estate if I got in.
If. If I passed the exam. If I got in.
If. If. If.
There was every chance I didn’t – millions of Fae applied to attend each year, and without the backing of an elite family or scholarship, my chances were less than .5 out of a million.
If I didn’t get in I could use my savings and move out, but that meant my plans of study were shafted and I would have to continue to work at Angels Fare.
Not a terrible future.
But not at all what I’d dreamed of.
My thoughts spun round and round, sending me dizzy.
It was irrational, and I would later feel terrible for it, but in that moment I hated the sinuous movement of the snake in my middle, disgusted by the feel of it beneath my skin.
If I’d been like my sister, a perfect unicorn, I could have that future I craved with everything in me.
My foster parents would have liked me. Teachers and peers wouldn’t constantly spurn me.
I wouldn’t feel so out of place. So alone.
If I’d been anything but a dud snake. Anything at all. If I’d had a scrap of usable magic or a credible skill.
My beast lashes out, my stomach cramping with a burning pain, and I suck in a harsh breath.
The guilt hit me fast and sharp.
Tears filled my eyes.
I furiously blinked them away.
Guilt and regret at upsetting the only creature that had ever had my back, had always been there for me – even if it were trapped inside me.
I searched desperately for calm as I walked and blocked out the noise of the room.
Pressing a hand against my gut, feeling the burning cramp ebb and my beast settle into a tight, anxiety-ridden coil, I blow out a breath and try to ignore the goings on behind me.
“Sinta.”
Tensing, my tenuous calm evaporating, I turn to face Mrs Paulos.
“Ma’am.” I murmur, my hands clasped tightly before me.
Wearing a Grecian white dress with a pair of red-soled white pumps, her blonde hair perfectly coifed and makeup expertly done, I eye the delicately detailed white feather Markings that play over Mrs Paulos’s right shoulder – the universal Marking of a Pegasus shifter.
She eyes my dress, openly disdainful, and clears her throat. “Mr Paulos and I believe we have done all that we can for you and feel that we no longer need to play a role in your life. As such, we would appreciate it if you would vacate the premises by the end of the week.”
Gods.
A mule kick to the gut from her Pegasus form would have hurt less. Thrusting a spear through my gut would have hurt less.
But was I surprised? Could I honestly say I did not see this coming?
I didn’t make a habit of lying to myself.
Tears burning the back of my throat, all I offered her was a stiff nod.
“We will allow a maid to help you pack your things, anything you leave behind will be thrown away. And we will expect a note mentioning your new address, should the authorities feel the need to contact you. You will also have to return the phone we purchased for you.” She pauses for a moment, lips pursing, her blue eyes like hard chunks of ice. “Don’t mistake me, Sinta. I bear no hatred toward you. I simply understand that things like you have no true place in this world, as I’m sure you now understand as well. Mr Paulos and I have generously decided to gift you $5000 to help you on your way, but after that you must expect no more from us. The cheque will be delivered to your room this evening.”
I don’t say anything. What could I possibly say to her?
Sniffing, Mrs Paulos lifts her chin and turns away, striding off into the crowd.
Tense, feeling overwhelmed, my hands turning white as they squeezed and squeezed, I looked up at my sister.
She beams down at me, so happy, waving like a loon.
I don’t have it in me to wave back. Or to smile.
Knowing I won’t be missed, that no one will care, I turn, and I make my way from the ballroom, heading not upstairs to the private family quarters but towards the back of the house where the staff quarters are located.
Where my room was.
Ignored by the staff as I walked the thin hallways and ducked into my small closet of a room, I was ready to curl up in my small bed and sob beneath the covers for the rest of the night.
Two things stopped me.
One; a letter envelope decorated with my name in Mrs Paulos’ handwriting.
And two; the large A3 sized envelope under it, thick and heavy, with the Fairview Academy shield.
I think my heart stopped.