Maggie’s stern expression softened slightly, though she tried to hide it. “It’s not wrong,” she said gruffly. “But next time, ask before you start tearing through my pantry.”
“I’ll clean it up,” Maple said quickly, her tone earnest. “I’ll clean everything. Just… please don’t banish me from the kitchen forever.”
Maggie eyed her for a moment before nodding. “Fine. But you’re on probation. And if you want to bake, you’ll do it under my supervision. And I want to know what you were planning on making.”
“Well,” Maple started. “I see that you don’t have a sourdough starter.”
Maggie held her hand up. “Girl, I told you my kitchen was spelled. I do, indeed, dabble in sourdough. Maybe if you asked first, you wouldn’t have gotten yourself into this mess.”
Maple’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t exactly have anyone to help me or show me around. I waited in here for thirty minutes thinking you would show up and you never did.”
Maggie pinched her lips together. “Get out of my kitchen, but you can come by later and help me with the rice and gravy I’ll have cooking.”
“Oh, I don’t really cook?—”
Maggie raised a brow and held up her rolling pin like it was a weapon. “I wasn’t askin’.”
“Yes ma’am.”
Maggie turned her dark glare on me. “Get this girl out of here before I teach you both a lesson.”
Maple held up a hand like she was asking a question in school. “Can I at least help you clean up?”
Maggie rolled her eyes. “No!”
The swinging doors barely had time to close before Maple spun around, her arms crossed and her face still streaked with flour.
“Seriously? You just stood there and let her tear into me. Aren’t you supposed to be in charge or something?”
I fought back a smirk, shoving my hands into my pockets. “Being in charge doesn’t mean I have to save you from your own mistakes.”
“Oh, so now this is my fault?” she shot back, her tone sharp, though the flush creeping into her cheeks betrayed a mix of embarrassment and irritation. “I just wanted to do something nice for your mother, and instead, I ended up being yelled at and threatened with a rolling pin. Great first impression.”
“Actually,” I said, leaning casually against the wall, “I’d say you made quite an impression. Maggie doesn’t offer probation to just anyone.”
“Well, none of this would have happened if you had been waiting for me when I was done with your mother. I didn’t know where to go or what to do with myself. I hardly made it back to my own room.” She stopped and crossed her arms over her chest. “Speaking of rooms. When am I going to get my chest with all of my things in it?”
The chest had been delivered to my room and I’d been too busy to think of it. Because we were technically married, she would need to live in my quarters but that was the last thing Iwanted. It was bad enough that I’d just broken up with Babette the week before—for things completely unrelated—and now I was going to have to introduce my new bride to the coven. It didn’t look good. I didn’t know where to start. We were all still mourning the loss of my father and the witches from weeks before. How could I possibly spring this on them too?
Only a few knew of the arranged marriage and no one else was supposed to know that it was all for allies and strength. If the witches in this coven knew it was all fake, they would probably be the first to feed her to the wolves as a sacrifice. Louis had already suggested it. I knew the others would think the same too.
I bit into my bottom lip before speaking. “Your things are in my room, but it’s much more complicated and I don’t know how to introduce you to the rest of the coven.”
Maple ran her hands down her flour-covered face, only making her look sillier. “So what am I to do? Just wait around for you to acknowledge me? I thought I would at least get the opportunity to try good food.”
I raised my brows at her. “Maggie’s cooking is the best you’ll have in this entire state.”
She threw her head back like a child throwing a fit. “I wanted some adventure here.”
“Haven’t you had enough adventure already?” I gestured to her flour-streaked face.
Maple groaned, swiping at her flour-covered face again, only managing to smear it into even more ridiculous patterns. She glared at me, her hands falling to her sides in defeat. “So, let me get this straight. My stuff is in your room, I have to wait for you to decide when it’s safe to introduce me to the coven, and on top of that, I can’t even make a good impression because your kitchen is cursed?”
“It’s spelled,” I corrected, crossing my arms. “Not cursed. There’s a difference.”
“Oh, excuse me,” she said, throwing her hands up. “I’m sorry I didn’t take the Spelled Kitchens 101 course before I got here.”
I sighed, dragging a hand over my face. She wasn’t wrong to be frustrated, but she didn’t understand how precarious this situation was. “Look, this isn’t simple, Maple. You showing up wasn’t exactly part of the plan.”
