Just Call Her Syndre

Chapter 5 | From Town-Cryer to House-Cryer

Without any new food and no ideas on what to make, I rode Butterscotch back to Marcelus Manor. I glared at the striking house when I reached the surrounding 15 foot walls, but let my anger dissipate when I saw the landscapers quickly cleaning up the yard. They all threw up their hands to wave at me when I passed and I returned the favor, glad to have some company around that I could talk to.

Big necked Allandria stood at the backdoor, a sneer marring her semi-pretty face. She had changed clothes, no longer wearing her obtuse dress. I raised an eyebrow at her dirty jeans, old button-down shirt and flat shoes. Her brown hair was partially up in a ponytail and would have looked nice if not for the dirt smeared across her left cheek.

At my approach she tried to block my entrance, a smirk lighting her features. "You come back empty-handed, Syndre-Ella?" My teeth snapped together audibly, I hated when people mocked my name. I may not like it much, but my mother chose it and she obviously thought it fit me. "I can't wait to see mom pull out of the whip again."

I let her gleefully run into the house and gather her mother, brother and sister. My gait was smooth and casual, ready to lay down new information that I knew no one in this house had heard. Madame would not punish me, she'd send me back out to order dresses straight away. 

The sitting room was as silent as a graveyard when I walked in. The triplets sat in the far corner, gathered around a chess table. Madame herself was sat on the settee, back straight, legs crossed prim and properly at the ankles and a new clean dress on.

Her gaze zeroed in on my presence as soon as my feet passed the threshold. The tear-dropped chandelier bathed the room in soft LED light. It caressed the edges of the sturdy leather settee, couch and matching arm chairs. Lit up the resin coffee table between them and even provided enough light for the chess table to the far back left all the way to the bookshelf in the far right corner.

A soft clink brought my attention back to her, Madame was slowly mixing sugar into her cup of tea. I stifled my urge to roll my eyes, she was mixing counter-clockwise. She only did this when she thought she had the upper hand. A smirk worked its way across my lips, but died when she glanced back up at me.

"You come back with no food, Syndre-Lynn?" Disappointment oozed out of her voice, out of her posture and out of her very pores. I bit my lip to keep from smiling. "Did you think I was kidding about my threat?"

"No, Mad--"

"Of course, she thought you were kidding, mother. Punish her!" Allandria interrupted me and jumped from her perch at the table, her face bright with dark glee. She absolutely loved to see me get punished.

"Sit down, Allandria." Madame's hard voice drove her to silence and back into her seat. "Answer the question, Syndre-Lynn."

"I was going to go shopping, but --"

"But what, Syndre-Lynn?" White hot fury shot through me and I struggled to not scream at the woman before me. She was taking a sip of her tea, leaving an imprint of red lipstick on the edge when she pulled away.  "Are you going to finish, Syndre-Ella?" I stared at Madame, refusing to rise to Demetria's bait.

Madame slowly turned her head, sending what I could only assume as a look of extreme discontent to the peanut gallery in the back of the room. They each went rigid, barely breathing until Madame turned back and centered her attention on me once again. A brittle, annoyed smile worked it's way across her thin lips.

"Continue, Syndre-Lynn."

"I was going shopping," I began again, "but I was interrupted."

Madame flinched, "by that Sarah girl again?" My fingers came up and pressed against my newly throbbing temples. "No, not by Sasha. There was a strange man in town today, Madame."

She slammed her tea cup down on the table, "What did I tell you about talking to strangers, Syndre-Lynn? You disappoint me again!"

"I didn't speak to him!" I cried, at the edge of my rope for patience. 

"Then what about this man made you return to this house without the items you need to make our dinner!"

"He was from the palace!" Madame came up short, halting her jump to stand. Her body sank back down onto the cushions and resumed her deceptively relaxed position. Stiff, shaky fingers wrapped around the arm of the cup and pulled it to her lips for a quick sip.

"A man from the palace," she mulled aloud. "Did you see what this man wanted? Did you find any useful information?"

I smiled, wrapping my arms around me in glee. "Of course, Madame. This is why I dared to venture back to you without dinner. It was news you would be happy to hear."

Her hand came out, flicking in my direction with impatience. "Then tell me, child! And be quick about it."

"There is to be a Royal ball for the High Prince Valor." Time seemed to stop in the room, Allandria and Demetria stood from their seats and thrust themselves onto the settee next to Madame. Their hands were wringing in just as much excitement as the light in their dark eyes. 

"What sort of Royal Ball?" Madame asked carefully, a thoughtful look clouding her features. 

I waited a moment, taking a deep breath and rolling my feet back and forth on the soft carpet. They sat, quiet for once, and let me take my sweet time. The words came tumbling out of my mouth as if I'd said them myself and I was reading the crinkled notice that the mystery man kept in his jacket pocket. My back straightened and I orated the speech, word-for-word, to the people who had been torturing me relentless since they first moved in.

I began, speaking slowly and carefully. "Ladies, Gentlemen and children of all ages. I bring to you an announcement from His Royal Majesty Silver Oliver Octavius and our Queen Millian Hadover Octavius, they would like to invite you to a momentous occasion.

Our High Prince Valor Augustine Octavis turns 25 on August 1st and will be choosing a bride. This bride, our next queen, will be chosen from the maidens in this kingdom. All maidens between the ages of 18 and 25 are, by law, ordered and commanded by their king and queen to appear in New Haven on August 1st to the 5th.

All men, women and children are invited to come, but any maidens not found within the gates of New Haven for this week will be hunted down and brought before the court on counts of treason.

Thank you for lending me your ears, BrunHilde. We look forward to seeing all maidens from BrunHilde at the ceremony and ball."

"A Royal Ball for a bride?!" Allandria and Demetria were out of their seats, dancing with all their might. "He could chose me for a bride." Demetria fanned herself with her hand, batting her eyelashes in a way I knew she thought looked nice. "Or me." Allandria motioned to her burlap sack of a body with a sure hand. She was right, there were many men in the area who were already chomping at the bit for a chance to marry her.

"What the hell are you still standing here for?" Madame's voice cut through my assessment of her children. "Go back to the dressmaker and order 15 dresses and 5 tuxes."

I smile for the first time in this house since my father passed, "you're getting some for me."

"Oh look, Syndre-Ella made an assumption." Demetria crooned, coming around to pat me on the head. "You're an idiot."

My stare grabbed onto Madame's, begging for clarification. "Are the other five dresses not for me?"

She scoffed, "of course not. The others are for me. I need a new husband. I'm sure there's something around here that you can wear. Get out. And don't come back until you have ordered the dresses and gotten dinner!"

A sick feeling settled at the pit of my stomach as I walked out of the sitting room, through the kitchen and back to a waiting Butterscotch. Demetria had followed me, cackling with delight at my sadness. I had only rags compared to what beautiful dresses the dressmaker would create. The thought pulled my frown lower on my face as I pulled myself up on my horses' back.

"Syndre!" My escape stopped at the sound of Demetria's voice. "Since you won't be marrying the Prince, I strongly suggest a position as the town-cryer! You did a great job." Her laugh echoed the backyard, and I sent her a double helping of middle fingers before skirting back to town.

I cried all the way there.