Fae Fiefdom - M. Sinclair Page 0,2

folks.

I would have talked to my father about it, but I hadn’t seen Alexander Rose in what felt like years. Honestly, I couldn’t tell you what the man looked like.

I would have assumed he and my stepmother had split if it wasn’t for the packages, letters, and phone calls the other three received. Nothing for me, ever. I had concluded the man hated me, so that was nothing new. If I had to guess it was probably something stereotypical about me reminding him of my mother and his wife that he lost on my sixth birthday.

So of course, I was on the outs while he paid attention to a woman and her two daughters that I’d never even met until right after my mother died. My two stepsisters were from a previous marriage I assumed since they were fourteen. I had to be honest, though, I’d never asked.

It really didn’t matter though, did it? He hadn’t married Denise for love. Hell, I had no idea if he’d loved my mother. Instead, he married her to keep this estate in functioning order, something that she did with the precision of a drill sergeant. It was actually rather impressive.

“Ophelia?” Denise’s squeaky voice had my attention, shifting it from the vibrant butterfly to her dark eyes. This morning her golden complexion and long blonde hair looked particularly styled and I wondered why. Until I realized I didn’t care. It was just one more factor that separated me from the three of them. I suppose my father had the same ivory complexion and dark hair as myself, but it was usually just the four of us, so to say I looked ‘different’ was an understatement.

No matter how frustrating I found the woman, I would never deny that her and my two stepsisters, Alice and Cindy, were objectively absolutely stunning. They were model tall, thin, and had golden hair that reached down to their waist. If I had to put us in celebrity terms? The three of them were Gigi Hadid, and I was Bella Hadid. They were unbiasedly all American looking and beautiful, and I was...beautiful, sure. I wasn’t going to be falsely modest about that, but not in a traditional sense. I had been told I was a bit intense to look at and I had no idea how to take that.

My face was heart-shaped, with a smaller chin and high cheekbones that were complemented by a red pair of lips and dark arched brows. My hair was a thick chocolate and onyx shade that hung down my back in loose, impossible to control, waves.

The part about me that was alien looking though? My eyes. They were a smoky gray color, like fog, that featured a starburst of purple around the pupil. My stepmother once called, and this is not a joke…gaudy. How in the ever-living fuck can your eyes be gaudy? It wasn’t like they were god-damn costume jewelry! You know what? It didn’t even matter.

Sometimes someone’s words hurt far more than the truth of the situation. Or in my case? Being different, no matter how attractive or good my personality was, made me feel like shit most days because no one in my town looked like me. As one of my friends once stated, I had pixie-like characteristics. No. I have no idea what he meant. I also had no idea if I wanted to take that as a compliment or not because my stepmother had so clearly screwed up my head and perception on this stuff.

I wasn’t even a particularly short or tiny person. Okay, well that’s not completely true, I’m 5’ and a half. That half part was very important to me, thank you very much. Besides that, I had more ass and hips than boobs, I was thin and well built. Pretty fucking normal, if you ask me. But then again, Denise was the one making the guidelines, not me.

“Sorry,” I took a sip from my coffee and answered her, “I slept poorly.”

Her eyes swept over me critically as she nodded. “Yes, I can see that, those circles under your eyes are getting worse and worse. Do we need to see a doctor?”

“I would rather not.” I pushed down the panic that hit me out of nowhere at the thought of taking medicine. “I’ve just been stressed. You know, at the end of the school year, graduation and all.”

I would literally say anything to avoid taking medicine. Every. Single. Time. I had a horrible adverse reaction to it.