Page 18 of Magic and Matrimony

“It’s okay.” I’m only half paying attention to Piper. Why are there so many lights on? I know we left quickly for the airport, but rooms I’m never in are lit up like someone’s scared of the dark.

“Did we leave all those lights on?” Piper asks the very question I’m asking myself.

“I don’t think so.” I sigh reluctantly. I don’t want to accept what I’m fairly certain this means.

I’m out of the car and opening Piper’s door for her before she gets her sweatshirt pulled over her head.

“Shall we see if we can get your phone out of the giant pot.”

Piper smiles at me, and I feel warm despite the chilly breeze in the air tonight. Maybe she should stay here. I wonder if I can convince her.

“Finally, where have you been?” As soon as we walk through the door, a voice I haven’t heard since the founders’ parties last year stops me in my tracks.

My mother is standing in the doorway that leads to the living room, her arms crossed and a frown on her face.

Bianca Roth does not look fifty-five years old. Between magical glamors and very real medical procedures, she’s done everything to ensure her skin is as smooth as glass. Her lips have been overly filled and her forehead no longer moves, but we don’t talk about how that makes her look plastic instead of younger. Her blonde hair used to be the same golden color as mine, but she’s been dying it platinum for so many years there’s probably no pigment left at this point.

Cold doesn’t begin to describe my mother. I never understood why she and my father had a kid. Now, after recent discoveries, I know it’s because they needed to pass along the Briar Witch’s curse. That realization actually helped me understand my parents so much more than anything else in my thirty-three years of existence on this earth. The moment my mother gave birth, my parents were absent from my life. They’ve spent most of my life somewhere else. In another country, at a different Roth family house.

I was raised by nannies and hired help. My mother doesn’t do warmth or hugs. Which perhaps explains why I’m constantly seeking out connection from someone else. Just not on more than a surface level.

I’ve been to therapy. I understand my issues, even if I haven’t fixed them.

“Mother. This is a surprise.”

Blaine Roth, my father, appears in the doorway next to my mother. He’s aged more gracefully than my mother, but there’s no doubt in my mind that he also uses a magical glamour to appear younger. When did growing old become such a bad thing?

“Son.” My father blinks at me a few times, then turns his gaze to Piper. He doesn’t look her in the face, but stares at her titsbefore he grunts, turns around, and walks back into the living room. Even wearing a simple sweatshirt, Piper’s a beautiful woman, but he can’t even be bothered to say hello.

I give Piper an apologetic look, but she’s not paying attention. Her mouth is pressed tight, and she looks like she’d rather be anywhere else. Me too.

My mother doesn’t frown because her forehead doesn’t move, but her mouth purses in unhappiness. “We’ve been here for a whole day. Where were you? You just get up and leave at the drop of a hat without telling anyone where you’re going? The house was empty.”

As if on cue, someone dressed in a staff uniform of Roth family colors bustles by with a feather duster.

My parents have been home for less than twenty-four hours and they already have the house fully staffed again.

“Oh, I don’t know, Mother. I think picking up and leaving without telling anyone is sort of a Roth family trait.” I chuckle, and she stares at me. Piper shuffles a step behind me, probably hoping to stay out of my mother’s line of sight. The movement merely catches her attention.

“I see you brought home another one of your women. Honestly, Ambrose. You’re so predictable. Could you at least take your whores to a low-rent motel. They'll feel more comfortable in their natural habitat.”

Piper makes an astonished sound and shuffles even farther behind me. I grab her hand and lace our fingers together, pulling her to my side.

“Bianca Roth, may I introduce my wife, Piper Beaumont. Actually, it’s Roth now, isn’t it, sweetheart?” I turn a loving smile on Piper.

She’s stiff next to me, but doesn’t miss the chance to give me a dirty look. My mother, however, almost looks ill for a minute.

“Your wife?”

“Surprise.” I can’t help the laughter that trickles into the word. My mother couldn’t care less about my personal life, except when it affects her. And in this case, me getting married without her knowledge means that she was cut off from any sort of wedding planning bullshit.

Piper squeezes my fingers hard. I don’t know if it’s a warning or if she’s looking for security.

Something occurs to me that I hadn’t thought of when Piper and I got married. As part of the Roth family inheritance, once the eldest Roth gets married, the chateau officially becomes theirs. I’ve been living in this house because my parents were never here, so it didn’t matter anyway. But because of the wedding, it’s now officially my house. Which means they’re encroaching on my territory.

“It’s a real shame, but it looks like you and Dad will have to pack up your things and go stay at one of your other places. The apartment, the farmhouse, any of the other various residences in a different town.”

“Really, Ambrose,” my mother scolds. “Must you be so cold? We never see you. And you’re telling us to get out of our house.” She straightens the collar of her blouse.

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