Lady Sybbie

Chapter 2: The Family

A/N: Hey everyone! Sorry for the slow update. Just so you know, nothing will be mentioned from season 6. Mainly because I'm an American who hasn't seen the end of season 6 and I know they're others who haven't seen the end.

The day droned on, like a dull, rainy day. My tea with Isabel had gone quite well, which I had not expected. Although, I didn't expect that staying in an old, aristocratic house to be tiresome. The quiet dinners, the endless staircases, and the absurd amount of fragile items that were scattered around the Abbey. I cried myself to sleep that night; sobbing until my pillow drowned in the mass of tears. I missed my father, his morning breakfasts, our daily debates about American politics, and the apartment we shared. This world seems like nonsense, I'm Sybbie in Nightmareland, much different from Sybbie in Wonderland.

Other than my discontent thoughts swarming my head like a hive, I slept quite well. The bed was comfortable and fit for a queen, nothing like I've slept in. I looked at the clock, it was nearly noon, I wasn't quite used to the time. I looked over at the bell and decided against it. I could dress myself, I was nearly fourteen. I went into my wardrobe and dressed in a simple blue dress, that hung just below my knees, I hoped it would be nice when I met my grandparents. I put on my white shoes, which matched the white sash tied around my torso. I brushed my hair and pushed a bobby pin onto the left side of my hair. I looked at the full body mirror on the side of my dark oak dresser, I thought it would be okay for my family.

I walked out of my room and walked down to the dining room for lunch. I looked through the doors, and saw footman preparing for lunch.

"Oh, sorry," I said, biting my lip,"I thought everyone would be in for lunch."

As I was walked out the door, the footman spoke up,"They should be in the library, miss."

"Thank you," I nodded.

I walked to the front door of the library, and smoothed my blue dress before adjusting my hair. I opened the handle, slowly, like a life-or-death situation was on the other side of the door. I opened the door, and walked in.

I saw an older man who I assumed to be 'Donk'. He had grayer hair, and wore a brown suit with a fancy pair of loafers. Beside him, sat my grandmother. She was quite elegant, her dark hair was curled into a delicate bun, and she wore an off-white dress, which she matched with a pearl necklace. Sitting across from them was my Aunt Mary, who I'd recognized from photographs, and her son, George. Both of them were dressed in expensive clothes, like the rest of the family. Sitting in the armchair, was George's grandmother, who looked older than what I had seen in pictures. And in the other section, sat my Aunt Edith and her daughter, Marigold, who were deep in conversation. Everyone stood up when I walked in, I don't see why, it only made me more uncomfortable.

"Hello, Sybbie," Donk welcomed, walking over to greet me.

"Hello," I said rather awkwardly.

The family seemed to be rather taken aback by my accent.

"You're American?" my cousin Marigold asked, walking over to get a closer look at me.

"Well," I hesitated,"I've lived in Boston for nearly all my life, 10 years to be exact. If you stay in a place long enough, you get the accent. That's what my school teacher told us."

"Right," my Aunt Mary smiled, trying to be familiar, "Well, we were just going to head in for lunch, if you'd like to join us."

"That would be nice."

I walked with my family to the dining room where the footman were busy setting up for the meal. I watched as my family went to sit in their designated seats.

"You can sit here, Sybbie," Donk said, gesturing to the chair beside him.

"Thank you," I mumbled, taking my seat beside my Aunt Mary and Donk.

There was a wave of silence after I sat down, which made me feel uneasy.

"So, Sybbie," Aunt Mary asked,"What did you do in Boston."

"W-Well," I started, unsure about which can hobbies I should include,"I enjoy reading, and Dad and I occasionally did fishing. I must confess, how bad I am at it. Dad had a friend, his name was Andrew, and he worked at the college observatory, and we went there every so often. To, you know, watch the stars. But, I didn't really do anything else."

"What about your education?" Aunt Edith asked, everyone looking eagerly at me, waiting to hear what I'd done in the past 10 year.

"Well, I attended a private school, it was called Massachusetts School for the Gifted. I got a full scholarship last year for an essay I entered in a contest."

"What was the paper about?" Aunt Edith asked.

"Mainly about the Great Depression and its impact on Americans. And what precautions President Roosevelt was taking future."

"I'd like to read it sometime," my Aunt smiled.

I nodded," Sure."

 That was the beginning of a long list of questions that I was asked by my aunts, cousins, and my grandparents. My lunch was enjoyable,