Trouble in Paradise In two months of marriage, William had learned that his father, though generally a bit of an idiot, had been right about one thing: there was no knowing a woman until one was married to her. In most ways, Julian was merely more herself than he had known she was beforehand, but there had been a few surprises. One was, he thought, largely harmless on its own: while she did read a fair number of romances and paperback mysteries and other trash, plus the endless Muggle books, she was far more familiar with the magical canon than he had previously assumed. More important was how dedicated to stretching a galleon further than it should logically go she could be. Most important was the two things that those two things put together made, the thing greater than the sum of its parts, which was also, unfortunately, the thing William didn’t realize was a thing until after they got back from their honeymoon: that there was a difference between being a John or a Lenore, someone defined by being smart, and being a person who actually wasn’t that bright.
His wife was looking over accounts in her room - a cheerful space adjacent to their bedroom which Julian had decorated in a great confusion of shades of green paired with a mix of white and maple and cherry furniture, not to mention two bookcases and what seemed to him an excessive number of family photographs - when William returned from one of the more humiliating experiences of his life, but she looked up and smiled brightly when she saw him. “There you are,” she said. “I wondered. Just a moment.”
William stared, unable to believe what his ears were hearing. He was not the footman, he was her husband. She had no business even looking at the books without, at the very least, his presence now, and certainly not telling him to stand and wait for her to finish what she was doing with Sallie and had time for him. She, oblivious, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and pointed to something on one page. “Is this really necessary to keep up?” she asked Sallie.
Sallie bit her lip. “Yes and no,” said Sallie. “Technically, I suppose it isn’t, but...there’s a way things are done….”
Julian clicked her tongue in impatience. “A way things are done. If we stood on tradition in everything, Sallie, we’d still have emperors in Rome and think that our boats would sink if we threw chickens off them.”
“True, but it’s not kind to throw chickens overboard even if you don’t believe it will sink the boat,” said Sallie. “Richard always said he was like a father to his people - it was his job to ensure their welfare.”
“So now they’re my siblings and my children all at once? I didn't remember changing my name to Oedipus,” said Julian, and Sallie burst out laughing. “No, no, you’re right, I didn’t think about that.” She glanced back up at William. “That’s all for now, then, I guess - I think my husband’s about to lose his mind wanting to tell me something. Thanks, Sallie.”
“Any time,” said Sallie, and nodded to William as though he were Julian’s wife before Flooing out. “William.”
“Sallie,” said William between his teeth. Julian, however, still did not seem to realize that he was angry with her, immediately coming over for a kiss.
“Where’ve you been?” she asked curiously.
“The Ministry,” said William. “When were you planning to tell me that you’d written a will?”
Julian frowned. “I didn’t think of it,” she said. “I just thought it was one of those things you did when you, um, became a medieval overlord, as Joe, Joe likes to call it. Why?”
“Because you finished changing it the day we came back to this country and you all but cut me out of it,” said William.
“I didn’t - “
“You set things up so you remained the sole property owner here, and as if that weren’t enough - “ he had to resist the urge to lapse into slightly hysterical laughter or else hit her - “you also put Joe - your fifteen-year-old brother - ahead of me for control of the estate if you die.”
Julian gave him an odd, unreadable look. “You have a place in society, William,” said Julian, and in that moment, William realized that he had just been outplayed. “I have to take care of my family if anything ever happens to me.” She walked back to her desk as though the conversation was over. “You and Stephen don't need me as much as the other boys do.”
William’s temper slipped its rein. “I should say we don't,” he said, his tone dripping with acid. “One of the other boys is a Squib and another's half-mad, if not more by now. Tell me, how do you reasonably expect Joe to turn out with connections like that?”
Julian flushed and slammed the lid of her secretary shut. “What is wrong with you?” demanded Julian.
“Do you have any idea how humiliating it was for me to find out how little you think of me from one of my colleagues?” demanded William in turn. “If you knew the tenth part of that, you would know exactly what’s wrong with me, Julian! I haven’t got a thing now that I didn’t have before I married you.”
Julian went white and red all at once, a bad sign, he knew. “You got a wife,” she said.
“Who swore to keep and honor me!”
“And you swore the same to me, but I have to admit, I’m not feeling very honored right now,” snapped Julian.
“This is not the way things are done!” protested William.
“And I see no reason why the way things are done is the way they should be done,” said Julian. “Not in this.” She put a hand on her hip as her eyebrows drew together. “Or are you admitting that you would cut my family off if something happened to me?” William stood aghast, trying to think of some argument to make that he hadn’t already used the other times they’d fought about this - clearly, that angle wasn’t working as well as he had thought. Before he could, Julian shook her head. “Good afternoon, William,” she said coldly, and walked out past him.