Morning slipped by and the noon approached fast when Ruby stirred on her own bed. She tossed the bnket aside to reach for her mobile. A few meme notifications, mostly from Dad and two from Selina, which she ignored for the moment. Then, a few direct messages from Zoey and, surprisingly, one from Cybele. Those would have to wait.

  A quick change ter, she sauntered downstairs. Her hair fell straight, and silken-soft, like the ever present caress of a lover. Mom’s touch did that. Her scalp was an arid and caustic ground until Mom arrived. Coaxed them to fertile, blooming grounds. Massaged them. Showed her what it meant to be alive.

  Her steps fell light, her movement breezy. And her demeanour carried all sorts of etion. Despite the way the previous night ended, her mood still soared sky high. Like Mom’s ministrations, they provided Ruby with everything she ever craved.

  Ruby found Mom glued to the phone, instructing furiously. Mom’s attire, though she may call it business casual, brought new meaning. Others would wear business casual, but Mom owned them. Her knee length pencil skirt contained a trio of golden buttons and came with skirt slit. Ruby guessed Mom’s presence provided it form. Mom’s sleek, high-heeled and ankle strapped shoes gave her extra inches, but Mom added more poise. Her makeup contained muted beige, her lips contained nude gloss, Mom’s beauty contained everything else.

  Her lips curled upwards when her gaze met Ruby, her smile spreading, as though the conversation of the previous night was only a horrible dream experienced by Ruby alone. “Good morning, darling.” She pressed the mobile to mute and still tilted the screen away from Ruby’s direction. “Give me a minute, okay? Doing something for the day.”

  Ruby nodded, giving Mom privacy. Her curiosity spiked. Her mobile screen remained covered.

  Mom continued, “Listen, I will send you our quarterly financial statements, annual reports, offshore investments too. Have them prepared. Also...”

  Ruby stumbled away, not bothering to get close. Perhaps Jochen Rosenkranz had indeed made an astute observation. Even if she came into wealth, she would fail to hold on to it.

  With Mom occupied, rummaging the pantry and smoothly slinking back to her own room, seemed a very prospective pn. Yet, the sound of high-heeled steps clicked loudly behind, cutting above all din, silencing everything.

  When Mom walked, she owned her space. Her shoulders pushed backward but lethargically, chin held high, and her gait came poised and commanding. And they came without no conscious effort. Mom came with everything that Ruby cked the previous night against Uncle Craven.

  “Darling, I hope you don’t mind, but I have pnned a mother-daughter date for today.” Mom announced, her tone lilted cadence. “First, we get your ears pierced. Then a photo shoot, since I don’t own any of my daughter.” By then, Mom hooked a finger beneath Ruby’s chin, but Ruby pulled aside before the irresistible tug could come.

  Unashamed and unfettered, Mom continued. “Then we hit a dance studio. I have booked the whole floor for ourselves. Let’s get you a few basic moves.”

  Her tone, however, actually was surprisingly accommodating.

  “Is it okay, darling? Or do you have other pns? I apologise if I sprung this one on you. I should have consulted you, but when you were so peaceful when you slept, I didn’t feel like waking you up?”

  “You were in my room?” The shock flowed before she could control.

  “Well, I wouldn’t call it in per se. I mean, I only stuck my head through your doorway.”

  “Privacy Mom. It’s called privacy. Dad would have knocked and waited.” That nature of Dad saved many an awkward masturbation session.

  “I did knock, darling. But since you gave no response, I had to check on you. But will you really be cross with your mother for that? Your mother will feel dejected. And sad. And she may end up crying.” Mom gave her a pout. Though she cimed so, her expression betrayed her amusement. Eventually, Mom continued. “Darling, just teasing. I am not trying to guilt trip you or anything. Knocking is different for moms and dads. For Dad, it is asking to be allowed in. For Mom, it is announcing my presence before entering.”

  Then Mom opened her palms. Inside rested the two pearl earrings she had discarded.

  “Yesterday, emotions were running high.” Mom’s words came guarded and carefully measured, like she had pondered the whole night. “But it’s yours, if you will still have them. What do you say?”

  A plenitude of reasons to deny Mom crested in Ruby. Each instance, when she tried to close the gap, always led to uncomfortable moments. Memory of the previous night’s events were still vivid. Mom wore an onion of facades, each mask freshly peeled to reveal another behind. Every time she trusted her, she was cornered into confronting facets that she would rather avoid.

  Then there was the world in which Mom belonged. Sage’s implication only consolidated Dad’s advice when he hinted that Mom moved in different circles. One that Ruby could stare from the ground, but not approach. She filled her closet with custom made attires, and her shoe rack was meant for designer articles. The restaurants she frequented were elite and exclusive, where admission was deemed only for the worthy. She lived through her days surrounded by trappings of decadent wealth and the power she managed to accumute.

  She could carve herself a small spot within Mom’s world, but she could never make herself belong there. To become her Mom’s equal. Because that meant carrying the same demeanour and allure and guile which belonged to Morgane Spenard. Essentially, it required wearing her skin. Not many could walk in her shadow, much less match her stride. Mom would have never darted grabbing Zoey like she did. Nor would she waver against Uncle Craven.

  Ruby will forever remain relegated. A second-css citizen. A mere passenger. Or worse, her mother’s submissive daughter.

  And Ruby realised she may call her Mom, she may share her blood, even inherit her beauty. But Morgane Spenard’s daughter, she can never become...

  A strange notion and a shuddering apprehension in its wake because she never wanted to be a girl, right?

  That’s it. She never wanted to be Ruby, let alone Ruby Spenard. The whole mother-daughter date mattered to a farce.

  “Mom, so like... ummm... did you have it all pnned?” Ruby struggled against an anticipating Mom and the lull in her own heart. Then her mobile rang.

  “Go ahead, darling. Attend first.” Mom took a step back, giving her the space.

  She took the call. It was Cybele.

  “Meisje, so like what are you doing?” Cybele sounded like she was talking out of a rge garbage unit, the sort installed outside restaurants and delis. “We are going to hang out, maybe grab a bite. Zoey and me, that is. Want to tag along? Nothing fancy, just hanging and grab some burgers and fries and gossip till they kick us out.” Her typical snort-ughter followed. “Which, by the way, happened a few times. I mean, to me. Not Zoey.”

  “Yeah, about that...” Ruby tilted her head to where Mom stood, seemingly inspecting the bnk walls of her vil.

  “Oh wait, don’t tell me Morgane pnned something for you. In that case, never mind. I will text you our location. Just jump in if you can.” Then the call went dead.

  So, Ruby steadied herself for a date with her Mom, albeit hesitantly and begrudgingly.

  She took her first steps. “Sure, Mom. Let’s go.”

  They stood outside a tattoo parlour, which was surprisingly not in a very seedy part of the town. A tall, sinewy girl, dressed all bck in vest and scks like the hostess of a high-end restaurant, her blonde hair coiled behind, welcomed them in.

  “Mrs Spenard and Miss. Spenard, this way please.” The girl ushered them towards a waiting lounge. Ruby tried to wipe the grin off her face. And failed. She thought of correcting the girl to Miss. Gand, but decided against it.

  “Are you certain, darling? This will hurt. Tell me if you are afraid of needles.” Mom sounded concerned, her voice soothing. But her smile matched her concealed excitement.

  The same blonde girl returned. “Miss. Spenard, the room is prepared. Would you prefer your mother to be with you, or will you go through this alone?”

  Mom held Ruby’s palm tight.

  The girl gave a smile, wide and appreciating. “Then I guess with your mother, it is then.”

  Inside the small room, Ruby sat facing Mom.

  “Will it hurt?” Ruby asked through barely moving lips.

  “Only a pinprick, Miss. Spenard.” The girl responded as she continued to disinfect Ruby’s earlobes.

  “Ruby, don’t blink.” Mom drew closer. Her perfume, a rich and heady mix, was intoxicating. Her palms arrested Ruby’s wrist. “You have a stray eyesh in your eye. Let Mom blow it.”

  Mom’s lips pursed, then they parted, blowing her warm breath. They carried her sweet scents, her mouth exuding a gentle current, her lips coming closer. Ruby’s body froze.

  The prick came. A mere pinprick.

  But Ruby was spellbound, transfixed by the way Mom’s lips formed a perfect oval. Those treacherous lips should be cssified as a natural hazard. They took all her attention and fulfilled none of the promise.

  Then the second prick came.

  And Ruby was too entranced to break the moment. Or react.

  “That’s it. We are done, Miss. Spenard. Please avoid any unnecessary touching for the next three days.”

  Mom led her outside to the lounge where she held her hair, letting her examine her new studs.

  “You can change them ter, darling.”

  “That was a nice trick. Distracting me from the pain.” Ruby managed to utter despite the smile invading her features at what she saw.

  “You mother had a lot of experience.” Mom gave her usual enigmatic smile, but not the sort that made Ruby shudder. This one was saturated with reckless saciousness. “What I pulled, that move, had earned me many a stolen kiss from a pretty girl. Darling, you are the first one to resist your mother’s charm.”

  Almost.

  “Keep those earrings safe.” Mom pressed them into Ruby’s palms. “I know they seem just expensive and extravagant. But they’re special. To me, they are priceless. Especially when I consider you. You may wonder why? Well, I wore them during my wedding.” After a pause, she added. “The one with your dad, that is.”

  Ruby shifted this way and that way, unable to shirk off the sensation of having invaded something deep and personal. Her movement eventually caused Mom to drape an arm over her shoulder. And it came naturally.

  “But I can’t... Mom, you are giving it... to me?”

  “There is a tale. A very surreal one.” The ugh that Mom gave was self-deprecating. “On many an occasion, I had the urge to toss these earrings away, but something held me back. Like a premonition. That I was meant to pass it onto someone close and important and precious and very dear than life itself. I thought I was holding it for my granddaughter.”

  Her ugh deepened, its edge sharpened, shattering whatever image of a domineeringly imposing witch that Ruby held. “Turned out, it will go my daughter first.”

  As they left the tattoo parlour, Ruby wrestled with trepidation to reach out and hold Mom’s hands. Should be easy, just slide in and weave fingers between each other. Each step grew heavy, till she dragged chained shadows behind as though she waddled through thick mosses. But the walk ended when Mom turned around the corner and ushered Ruby inside a photo studio.

  “I hope you don’t find all these pointless. But I need photos. Of you. With me. A lot. Enough to fill my computer’s hard-disk. So, please humour your mother. Pretty please.”

  A smiling, rotund dy dressed fmboyantly welcomed Mom. When she smiled, her cheeks broke free, reaching her ears.

  “Morgane, you are early. And... Is she...”

  “Yes, Viviane. Meet my daughter, Ruby. My pride. My jewel. My heart. My everything.”

  Viviane’s palms reached Ruby’s cheeks. Her smile widened. “Hello little dy, you are gorgeous. Even prettier than your mom.”

  “She certainly inherited her mother’s beauty.” Mom eye’s suddenly lost their sparkle and instead limpid pools veiled the pride she held back. “Though if I may cim, she will surpass me.”

  “Well, mother’s bias aside, she already has.” Viviane waved her hands and took Ruby in with collected familiarity. “But come, both. You two will make beautiful models.”

  Inside, Ruby's expression withered, but only slightly, when she met a very familiar face.

  Sage. She lurched towards Ruby, gaze cautiously plucked away from Mom.

  “Hey Ruby, you look really cute today.” She then passed a demure greeting to Mom. “Hello Miss. Spenard.”

  Ruby’s lips remained shut tight. Her throat ran dry. Unlike Mom, her smile did not come easily.

  “Sage, I believe Helen gave you the outline.” Mom’s tone came measured and honed. Of course. Her Morgane Spenard’s side. Imbued within her voice, it held her contempt for anyone deemed below. “Now, help my daughter.”

  Ruby found it strangely amusing because, despite all, Sage kept her smile. Her shoulders sagged, her gait came slouched, her cheeks burned a deep crimson while she floundered. Was she even trying to hide her arousal?

  Sage gathered Ruby’s arm and their shoulders brushed casually as she led Ruby towards a dressing table.

  “So, like Helen said that your mom was looking for a make-up artist to get you dolled up for the photoshoot and I jumped the offer. Miss Spena... Your Mom always offered good money. But seeing you is worth it. Trust me, Ruby, I missed our small chats and the connection we made. You are a good friend I can always rely on.”

  Ruby chomped on her inner cheeks, stifling whatever she meant to say. Sage brought out the same slumbering frustration, just like Cybele, except while the tech-addicted witch acted on impulse, the girl ciming friendship manoeuvred her moves in advance with tactical intelligence.

  When Ruby sat before the dressing table, Sage ran her hands through her lustrous red hair.

  “I like what you did with you hair.” Sage hesitantly let her hair fall like a rich carmine velvet cloak. “Compared to the st time I saw you, your hair looks really gorgeous.”

  “Yeah, Mom tamed it with some herbal and home-made remedy.” Ruby occupied her hands with twisting and untwisting the cap of a bronze foundation yer. Socialising too much with Sage carried an inherent risk. But her praises were working their way through. Suddenly, being pampered felt nice.

  “Your Mom is very resourceful.” Not even a blink, Sage uttered with her gaze trained on Ruby. “I will now apply the foundation, okay?” She continued dabbing Ruby’s face in silence for a few seconds before she broke her own oath. “You don’t tweeze your eyebrows, right? It is very easy and less painful when you do it regurly. I can show you how.”

  Ruby kneaded imaginary dough with her palms pressed, wondering what her end game was. Actually, she knew Sage’s end game. Ruby was a stepping stone.

  “You cool with it, right? We are friends.” Sage continued, spreading the thick yer over her cheeks with small needy circles. “We can hangout. I have room-mates and no privacy but you can always invite me to your house.”

  Sage kept her attention focussed, her expression pensive. Her hands worked methodically, just as her suggestion, which was a seemingly altruistic offer.

  “So what do you say?” Sage asked.

  “Haven’t... haven’t actually... like given it much thought.” Words failed and formed slowly.

  “Sage, give Viviane a hand.” Ruby never entertained the notion that she would feel relieved for Mom’s intervention, but now she did. “I will take over. Mother knows best.”

  Sage obediently sauntered towards the photographer, but not before stealing two barely concealed gnces at her object of affection.

  “Well, darling, shall we continue? Now let’s remove this excess...” Mom’s palm reached Ruby’s cheek. Her fingers caressed them. “... foundation. I know it’s tempting, covering oneself behind yers of conceals, but trust me. You are absolutely unblemished.” A wet pad wiped away Sage’s effort from Ruby’s face. “Would you like me to do your make-up?”

  “Really?” Ruby hated how excited her word came out.

  The smile that Mom gave only consolidated another level of haughtiness. Mom, with her dexterous and enticing digits, quickly worked her artistry. Everything about her came close and intimate. Her nimble touches spread light dabs. Her voice dropped low. Sweet whispers meant only for her daughter.

  “Now keep your lips tight, darling. Let’s work your blush. A hint, nothing excessive. Something light, delicate, adorable.” Mom’s lips broke wide. Those lips came close. Too close. Then came the whisper. “Just. Like. You.”

  Ruby pursed her lips tight. Her cheeks tilted, presenting them.

  A sharp yank snapped Ruby’s attention towards her Mom’s gaze. “Now lips really tight, got it?”

  When Ruby gave a nod, Mom tickled her under the chin.

  “Not fair, Mom.” Ruby giggled.

  A fsh stole their moment. When they sought the source, they met Viviane, holding her camera and her full-blown smile.

  “That’s perfect. Hold it. Now, give me one rge grin. That’s it. Keep it natural. Now, hold it. Hold. Perfect.”

  “Viviane, go away.” Mom waved, while all smiles and cheeky grin held her hostage. “Give me time with my daughter.” Her attention settled again on Ruby, her tone dropping to a confession. “Truth is, I grew jealous of Sage when she touched you. Darling, it’s your mother’s duty. None will take that privilege from me.”

  The soft touch of Mom, they came unbidden. Those belonged between them. And none will rob her of that.

  A series of fshes followed by Viviane’s appreciative smile intruded.

  “Oh. Sorry, couldn’t resist. So cute. You two are perfect together. And perfect photos, I promise.”

  “Yes, Viviane, perfect. No doubt. But please, I am trying to focus. Now, shoo...”

  Ruby watched Viviane’s retreating form.

  Mom took her time, carefully contouring her lips. “Now, darling, keep them tight.”

  The next yer came. Rich and wet glossiness enveloped Ruby’s lips. They were the shade of a ripe peach begging to be taken by a willing mouth, and Mom’s intense concentration remained focused on them.

  “Now darling, part your lips. Now pout. A bit... oh, don’t stretch. Perfect. Now, rex them. Keep your lips parted, okay?” Mom’s touch came gentle, her strokes precise and careful.

  Ruby’s lips ached as though possessing a will of their own with every instruction. Never had she assumed Mom, impervious and ruthless Mom, would make her willingly comply.

  Mom held her palm ft above her brows. “Ruby, look up. Don’t blink.”

  “I can do it myself.” Ruby tried and failed to snatch the eyeliner.

  “This requires a steady hand. And a bit of practice. Let your mother do it.” Mom’s gentle tug pulled her chin upwards. “Rex. It’s me. Your mother. Trust me, darling. Okay. Look up. Don’t blink. That’s it.” Her breath fell softly upon Ruby’s shes.

  All Ruby ever wished boiled inside. All her trepidation abated and all her fears faded with her mother’s hold that carried assurance. Her touch gave Ruby hope, the sort that promised everything will fall in pce. Then came the mascara. Her eyeshes opened their embrace, inviting her mother’s ministrations.

  “Beautiful. My Ruby. Just beautiful.” She pushed Ruby’s stray hair behind her ear, letting her fingers trace along her neck. “Thank you, darling. For giving your mother these moments.”

  “Mom, can I ask you something? It is sort of silly.” Ruby pressed to the edge of her seat, and shifted against invisible shackles. “Can you like teach me... make-up?”

  Mom’s ugh deepened, coming straight through her diaphragm.

  “Silly? No, darling. No question will ever seem silly. Not between us. But please know, your mother will always make time. For You. And only you. My daughter has priority. Always...”

  The rest of her words tapered away as Ruby found herself lost in the limpid clearness in Mom’s eyes. Now that they were close, so close for her to infer individual flecks in her iris, and definitely too close to pierce the veil that Mom guarded herself with, the unbridled emotion was there for Ruby. The untainted twinkle that she saw in a younger version of Mom still resided deep inside, as though Mom has kept it shackled in a dark recess, but still bared it open to Ruby.

  When Mom finally moved aside, Ruby examined herself in the vanity mirror. Under Mom’s care, the story of the ugly duckling seemed very probable. She had heard on occasions, from Kelly and Or and even Mom, that she was beautiful, but Ruby attributed those to the giving nature of Kelly or the altruistic trait of Or. A few days ago, when Or did her make-up, she only highlighted her existing features, but Mom’s skill made her look stunning. Not that her makeup made her look immacute. Or Mom’s expertise brought subtle enhancement to accentuate her beauty. It was rather the way she achieved it, like having an instinctive knowledge of her facial feature — on which trait to bring forth and which one to blend seamlessly.

  Her cheekbones became prominently highlighted, her eyebrows contoured. And her lips. Oh, her lips. Mom gave them extra attention. A little shading. Little highlight. A little colouring, all expertly blended together. Her red lips became vivid, fuller, and inviting. They screamed bold, audacious, and passion. It carried everything under her name. Ruby red lips. A bold statement, announcing herself, and all that done only through Mom’s care.

  The more she stared, the mere mirror became a mirror of truth. The realisation came slowly, like the encroaching dawn at the end of a long night. Undeniable was the resembnce that smiled back at her. A younger version of Mom, the one who carried a virtuous innocence and a smile so infallibly untarnished, stood before her. Only her hair, a deep red as opposed to Mom’s sheer tartarean bck, and her eyes a honey-kissed brown, deviated from Mom.

  And then Ruby smiled. A very genuine and unguarded smile that came from some pce deep inside that she knew not existed until the smile brought it out. That smile, so unassuming and disarming, a lot of Mom saturated that smile, and Ruby would not change a thing about it. She would not trade anything for the smile she had now.

  Another fsh. Then three more followed.

  “Sorry, couldn’t resist get a shot of you alone.” Viviane turned her attention to the camera screen and shouted. “Holy shit. You look like Morgane at your age.” She only consolidated everything Ruby knew to be true deep down.

  “Oh, please, please. I insist.” Mom’s voice came tinged, carrying a previously unknown haughtiness. “Darlings, lets start.”

  Viviane nodded. Her camera started its incessant clicking.

  Mom’s touch fell upon Ruby. First, they took her palms. Then, they travelled up, gathering her elbows, pressing on her shoulder bdes till her digits danced on the exposed skin behind her ears. Mom’s hands went everywhere. Her waist. Her hips. Her hair.

  And the attention became all hers. All hers. Only hers.

  Mom’s smile filled her face, and Viviane captured her best ones. Her smile became her expression, and as incongruent as it might come, Ruby basked in her mother’s approval.

  Viviane, her consummate and professional attention trained on them, took time between each shot. Each fsh captured the moment for eternity, and still Ruby decided that they did very little justice. Amidst the searing light, the pristine white background and high ceilings with beams supporting softboxes, Mom’s presence alone kept her warm. Everything else became surreal, only the leverage offered by Mom was tangible.

  “Mom... I could really use a hug.” The touch Ruby received was smooth, like pearls dancing and rolling on silk.

  “Darling, that would ruin the make-up.” Her gaze moved to the vanity dressing table. With a strength impossible to believe had Ruby not witnessed, Mom effortlessly drew the chair. She sat, legs crossed, powerful, and yet the pose held all feminine allure. “Sit on my p, Ruby.”

  Strong hands pulled Ruby. When she sat, it was all cheesy, corny, schmaltzy, cloying, sappy... and all things cringey since grown-up girls do not sit on their mom’s p with a stupid dumb grin and because that’s exactly what Ruby did. Then came Mom’s palms. They wrapped her, covering her belly, pulling her tight. All her senses screamed. So Ruby wiggled more into Mom.

  Viviane stopped. “For fuck’s sake Morgane, hold her like a daughter. She is already flustered.”

  In response, Mom’s hold grew stronger. Tighter. More possessive. More intimate. Like Ruby’s body belonged there. And when her fingers tightened around her waist, that slow grab was fucking heavenly. Ruby could mewl if they were alone.

  “I will hold her exactly how I wish. Darling, rex. I won’t bite,” Mom whispered. Her lips grazed over Ruby’s cheek. “Now smile.”

  Ruby gave her best.

  click

  click

  click

  Then, Viviane stepped closer, while her attention was completely immersed. “Morgane, I never seen you smiling like that. Oh, my God, I love it. Look, I never intruded between mother-daughter retionships, hell, I never intruded between clients. But fuck. Morgane, you two are meant to kiss.”

  Ruby froze.

  Mom’s fingers, they travelled. Upwards. Slowly. Crawled towards her nape. Then, they stopped. Those treacherous fingers only came to rest against her nape. Her digits started their gentle strokes. Ruby squirmed. Her breath dipped shallow; her chest heaved. Rose and fell. Rose and fell. Ruby’s throat moved. Swallowing. A nervous impulse. Mom’s touch. Her caress. Ruby’s heart fluttered.

  Mom’s lips pressed close. Too close for whatever Ruby was unprepared for.

  “Morgane, please. No. I meant on the crown of her head.” Viviane screamed. “I want an innocent kiss, from mother to daughter.”

  “You are very prude, Viviane. A kiss on the lips can be perfectly innocent too.” Behind her teasing smile, Mom’s words came ced with deep innuendos.

  When Mom took her cheeks, and her lips flirted upon her forehead, Ruby’s skin erupted. They became hyperaware. Her kiss, despite its innocence and their ptonic nature, stroked the fring embers of craving in Ruby.

  Viviane clicked her camera. “Perfect.”

  “It’s time, darling.” Mom uttered as her fingers rexed.

  When Ruby moved, her hands pressed tight upon Mom’s arms. But Ruby didn’t stand. Instead, she rested her weight, feeling her body pressing against her Mom, letting Mom support her. A tiny moan escaped.

  Viviane took her st clicks. “Fuck Morgane. That’s perfect.”

  “Are you dizzy? Lets take a break, okay.” Mom rose, but soon sat on the floor with her legs folded beside. Then she beckoned with a gesture, chin tilted down in a silent invitation.

  Ruby id with Mom’s p for a pillow. She may hate herself ter, but Mom presented softness and comfort. A comfort she never experienced. The way Mom’s palm brushed against her hair, each touch came purposeful. They came with assurance and gave promise. Like she will never hurt her daughter.

  And Mom’s fingers, they carried finesse, and they carried power. And her gaze, though they dripped affection, also carried caution. Ruby’s thoughts drifted as she stared into abyssal pools of deep brown, like molten amber.

  “Oh my god, this is perfect too.” Viviane continued with her camera. “Please stay like this. Can’t miss this opportunity. And young Lady.” Viviane tapped to gain Ruby’s attention. “Don’t you ever give your mother ideas. Else, she may never leave. Never, ever. Your mother may never tire. She will keep your forever with her.”

  “Go home to your wife and girlfriend, Viviane. You are just drunk on watching two queer family members, having a pleasant moment.”

  “Wait, I thought she is your daughter. Is she into girls too?”

  A grin, both impish and calming, dragged Mom’s lips. “Guess what happened st night? She went out with a bunch of girls and came home covered in hickeys. And she still won’t tell me the details. Such a naughty, naughty girl.”

  “MOM!” Heat crept upwards, settling high upon her cheekbones. Still she made no attempt to rise. Lap pillow a Mom was too darned tempting. “You are absolutely incorrigible. You know that. Right?”

  “And my incorrigibility starts rubbing early. So, darling, brace yourself. You may discover you are exactly incorrigible yourself. Like me...”

  Mom’s words only added wood to fire, burning Ruby further, reddening her cheeks. Her fingers remained gentle, weaving through her carmine strands. Her touches caressing her neck. Those fingers kept Ruby’s thoughts pre-occupied. Even her shes responded, falling heavy. Her vision became foggy. A fog created solely through Mom’s care.

  Viviane’s camera clicked. Her appreciative whistles filled her studio. “Beautiful. Keep smiling, young Lady. This will become one gorgeous picture.”

  Ruby’s eyeshes fluttered, barely registering Viviane’s voice. Everything else became hazy. Only Mom’s fingers, their touch stayed crystal. When Viviane’s voice tapered, Mom’s voice rose above, cutting through the misty veil. That honeyed voice dripped pure sensuality.

  “Come, wake up darling. As much as I love holding you, we have another appointment.”

  Viviane booed. “You always knew how to spoil moments.” Her lips wore a grin, the one she wore throughout the photo shoot. “You are welcome anytime. Both of you.”

  Ruby smiled, despite her dream-veiled vision.

  Dance studio. Just like everything Morgane Spenard, the one Ruby found herself was extravagant. Mom’s choice again. She chose one that was spacious, elegant and exquisite. The studio offered rge mirrored wall. One where Ruby found her Mom reflected. She watched her mother’s movements, precise, dexterous, rehearsed and fwless. Before ushering Ruby in, Mom cimed she cked any talent, her moves betrayed otherwise.

  As the beats began to pick, Mom pirouetted with moves only possible with fluid for limbs. They were flowing and hypnotic. Like she possessed infinite joints, and her magic defied gravity, physics and anatomy. There were many things that held Ruby captive in Morgane Spenard’s dancing. For one, she changed into a skin tight jumpers leaving very little to Ruby’s imagination. And when she twisted, turned and spun, Mom revealed the lithe form. She dispyed ample and barely concealed curves in all the correct pces.

  Now, it made sense why Mom did not hire an instructor.

  “Indulge me darling. I might show you some nice moves.” Her words were a promise, and they came loaded with enough sweetness to incite diabetes. “Now tuck and keep your head straight.”

  Ruby stiffened as the touch came on her neck and her chin. Mom’s hold upon her neck became intimate. Her digits ran upwards, pressing against Ruby’s skin. And her words came close. Too close, intimate.

  “Now tuck your butt. Hold the posture. For beginners, I will lead. You follow.”

  Firm grasp fell upon her hip. Mom’s digits, dexterous and nimble slid over her waist. Their movement came purposeful. They carried meaning. Then Mom held her, while her digits dug deep.

  And Ruby followed, to what her heart craved. With every beat, she took a step closer to Mom, only to find Mom retreating. Such were the nuances of dancing. And Ruby danced, very clumsily. Compared to Mom’s graceful steps, Ruby was a sloth doing samba.

  “Now, step forward, Ruby. Left foot. Don’t lose posture. Head high, shoulders straight. Back rigid.”

  Another step closer. This time Mom gave ground. Her smile came teasing, daring Ruby.

  “Now, spin.”

  A light tap came on Ruby’s butt. A touch, meant only meant for guidance, only Ruby’s feet faltered.

  And Mom held Ruby.

  For one instance, they both froze. A dance interrupted. Time frozen.

  “Trust your mother to catch you always.” Mom whispered. “Don’t ever hesitate, darling. If you fall, Mom will catch you.”

  Mom’s arms stayed wrapped tight, her hands spyed against Ruby’s waist. Ruby’s fingers rested against Mom’s shoulder. Her breathing, warm and moist, tickled her cheekbones.

  “Now, trust yourself and trust me. Let your body flow.”

  Ruby took her step. Her heart raced, her pulse quickened. But she never fell. Not because she became better. Not because Mom guided her. She never fell because Mom whispered words only meant for her.

  “Mom, how are you so good with dancing?” Ruby did not shallow the moment with her guilt. There was so much about Mom she was ignorant of.

  “Darling, would you believe if I were to reveal a secret? Your Dad is a good dancing partner. In fact, we used to enter competition and won some awards then.”

  “Dad was... what?” Ruby’s gaze travelled through her Mom’s image reflected in the mirrors. Then her focus settled on them both. It brought forth her smile, one which she found extremely captivating. “Dad? He dances?”

  “He dances with the same proficiency as when he fences.” Mom gave her a smile, one that suddenly made her seem young. “There is so much about your Dad that you don’t know. Marcel...” She let the carefully sculpted pause linger. “... hides a lot about himself. Especially to the ones he calls loved ones.”

  Whatever statements Ruby conjured, they were snatched from her throat.

  Could she even deny what she heard? Call it another maniputive tactic of Morgane Spenard, the war queen?

  The words of the Mistress of the Shadowed Path are not to be trusted.

  Yet, when Mom enveloped Ruby within her arms, their steps effortlessly synchronised. Ruby’s body flowed.

  And Ruby only wanted to dance with Mom.

  The streetmps threw their warm glow and long shadows when Ruby entered the diner. It was te enough for children to be at home but not te enough for rambunctious teenage-adjacent age group to be shooed away. Despite the diner being somewhat filled, Cybele and Zoey managed to secure a separate table for themselves.

  Zoey busied herself with her mobile, ignoring the half-eaten pastry before her. Cybele tried to lick her straw clean. An empty gss, probably milkshake, was before her. Both Cybele and Zoey sported simir expression: Zoey, bored, Cybele, was either communing with a higher power or was trying to attain enlightenment by licking a diner straw. Zoey wore her usual, formless, ill-fitting t-shirts, Cybele, her punk outfit.

  As Ruby approached, Cybele’s attention fell immediately on her and she stood straight.

  “Morrigan’s daughter, the heir to the war queen, and she who crossed the worlds, finally.” Cybele announced.

  Zoey gnced towards Cybele. “That’s Ruby, idiot.” She flicked her attention to Ruby’s ears. Her gaze oscilted between both her lobes, resting on her new studs.

  Ruby now closed the remaining distance to their seat.

  “Holy shit, you got your ears pierced.” Zoey excimed.

  “And you were wearing make-up until a few hours ago.” Cybele added. She tried to see through her straw like a telescope, trying to get the st elusive drop. “I could see that. Your eyeshes are still thick and traces of eyeliners are still there.”

  “Wow... so what did you do? I need all details.” Zoey grabbed Ruby to sit by her side.

  “She probably went on a fancy date to some fancier restaurant,” said Cybele. “It is not like the witch-mother would spare any expenses when it came to her daughter.” After a pause, in which she was certain that there is nothing more to gain from the straw, she looked expectantly at Zoey’s half eaten pastry. “Not like mine. They rarely take me out. I am banned.”

  “Why?” Since it was Cybele, Ruby already expected some justifications for her parents’ behaviour.

  “So like I was twelve or thirteen right.” Cybele demolished a part of the pasty with a spoonful grab and continued talking with her mouth full. “We were in this restaurant in Utrecht and they had this really shitty wifi security. So I hacked it. Obviously, my parents were not happy. They had to apologise, and I got a permaban.”

  “Come on. That seems far-fetched. Totally uncalled.” Zoey flicked her attention from her mobile, and tilted forward to Cybele. “Like seriously, dude. Your parents overreacted. How did they even know that you hacked the wifi?”

  “Yeah about that, I changed the hotspot to Girls gone wireless and the next door establishment, a kind-of-club pce, I changed the SSID to It burns when IP.” Cybele snort-ughed. “Tell you what, it was totally worth it.”

  “You are insane.” Ruby took one bite from Zoey’s pastry.

  “So how are you feeling?” asked Zoey.

  Ruby now knew how it felt to be pced under a microscope. Both the girls, her first two friends, looked at her with undisguised interest, like she was tiktok, bluesky and reddit in one package.

  “Would you believe if I say... very ambiguous?” Ruby kept her head down. She needed a perspective, but not from Or. Someone closer to her age would understand how she felt.

  “You didn’t like the date?” asked Cybele.

  “No. On the contrary, I might have enjoyed it.” Ruby now summoned the courage to raise her head and meet Cybele’s gaze. She reminded herself that she was about to take advice from a girl who tried to travel on levitating roomba, and attacked Uncle Craven without any sense of self-preservation.

  Yeah. Nothing could go wrong.

  “If you liked the date... I fail to see the issue.” Zoey broke the moment. Her mobile fell on the table with a thud. Suddenly, Ruby was more interesting.

  “Because, it felt silly. And our retionship is rather... unconventional. She... did things in the past that forced me into... stuff.”

  “But did you enjoy them?” Ruby marvelled at how Zoey could breach nuanced topics with ease. As if her patience ran out, Zoey nudged her. “Come on. Did your enjoy them?”

  “I find myself enjoying them more and more.”

  “Then, you should like, dude, you should totally ask your mom for another date.” Zoey hurled her attention back at her mobile. Cat videos will not click themselves. Gachas will not summon themselves.

  “What?” asked Ruby.

  “Yep. You definitely should go back to your Mom and tell her how the date made you feel and ask her for another date.” Cybele became a wise sage and a philosopher and a life-coaching guru, and a lot of other people who cannot earn a decent living in modern society but still seemed respectful.

  “I should?”

  Cybele nodded affirmatively. Her eyes zoned on the empty pastry pte. She gave the empty pte the same look reserved for an ex-girlfriend’s left over hoodie in the wardrobe.

  “Thanks. That settles it.” Ruby kissed both, on the cheeks before rushing out.

  Muffled noised issued from Mom’s bedroom when, at that moment Ruby knew that she should be alone. Until now, Mom lived alone in a rge vil. Home invasion topped the list of pusible scenarios. So without a moment to spar, she barged in to find Mom naked.

  And not alone.

  Mom sat on the edge of her bed with both her feet firmly pnted on the ground, sporting on her thigh a strap from where a slick dildo rose. On top of the dildo was a very dishevelled Sage.

  “What is it, darling?”

  Ruby stood stunned. Limbs, nerves, muscles, throat, tongue, everything refused to cooperate.

  “Oh Ruby, I am...” Sage turned, but Mom’s hands arrested her by the hips.

  “Hush... little kitten. Concentrate on your own pleasure. Focus on working those pretty hips.” Mom spoke to Sage, but her eyes remained unblinking on Ruby. Her palms held Sage by the waist and worked her on the dildo.

  “Are you alright, Ruby? Will you stand there transfixed or say something?” Mom said over the squelching sounds of Sage riding her. But her gaze never wandered from Ruby. Not even when she took a tit and passed it to Sage’s lips.

  Ruby failed to read the emotions in Mom when her gaze still focussed on Ruby.

  “Now if you care, be fast. I have a mewling kitten to console.” Then her hands travelled low, kneading Sage’s ass, spreading them slowly as though she was presenting something for Ruby. Her digits crawled closer to the puckered hole. “Now be a good needy kitten. Let me take care of you.”

  “Yes, Mor... I mean Mistress Spenard.” Sage uttered between heaving breath and surging pleasure.

  And Ruby darted away.

  After the morning’s hassle she raised with knocking and privacy, she fucked up. In an epic manner.

  ElenaV