"Please tell Tante Olga I'll be right there," she instructed the Helferin, who nodded before floating away, the hem of its robe hovering just above the stone floor.

Sabrina moved the microscope and slides into her bedroom before placing the empty wooden crate outside the door of the apartment. She then quickly made her way back to the workshop. Bettina glanced up, worry creasing her forehead, but Sabrina caught her eye and shook her head, trying to convey that nothing terrible had happened.

Tante Olga was bent over a low bench, peering through a magnifying lens at a gold broach inlaid with pearls, but she straightened when Sabrina hurried in.

"I'm sorry," Sabrina said without preface. "I received a message my father had sent over a present, and I was distracted. It won't happen again."

Tante Olga smiled at her. "That's certainly understandable," she said. "What did your father send?"

Sabrina eagerly began to describe the new microscope but after a moment of expounding the differences between her old version and this newest one, she could tell Tante Olga hadn't expected her answer to be so long, or to contain so much information. Reigning herself in, she quickly concluded with, "I didn't realize I'd been gone for so long. I'm sorry."

Tante Olga nodded amiably and returned to her work, leaving Sabrina to return to hers, as well. As she tied the strings of her apron behind her back, she felt her previously good mood slip away. None of what she was working on today was especially important. All of it could have waited to be completed, giving her the afternoon to enjoy her new gift.

Why did the wants of the Hexen take precedence over her own desires? Why did she have to sacrifice what she wanted in order to repair things for those who'd been clumsy enough to break them in the first place?

When it was time for dinner, Sabrina waved Tante Olga and Bettina away. "I won't be much longer," she assured them. "I want to get these finished today."

The truth was, she didn't care about the items, but she'd told Tante Olga they would be finished today, and she hated going back on her word. Better to miss dinner and push through the work so it wouldn't spill over into tomorrow.

*****

A few hours later, all her repairs completed, Sabrina trudged upstairs, tired and even more irritated, if such a thing was possible. She'd grabbed dinner from the Hexen kitchen, which she'd eaten without really tasting, and she was so exhausted she doubted she'd be able to stay up and enjoy her microscope.

Stepping inside the apartment, she noticed her mother sitting in one of the two wingback armchairs in front of the fireplace. Offering a dull greeting, Sabrina turned towards her bedroom, intending to retreat into solitude as soon as possible, but her mother lifted her head, causing her thick, shoulder-length brown hair to sway.

"I didn't see you in the Essen Hall at dinner," said Marlene, and while the words themselves were perfectly innocuous, Sabrina could feel the disapproval in her mother's tone; it slid against her skin like a scratchy woolen blanket. This was the tone implying Sabrina had done something wrong that reflected poorly on her mother as Sprechen.

"Father sent a present," Sabrina explained. "A new microscope. I was distracted and lost track of time, so I stayed late to finish my work."

Marlene blinked. On anyone else, the expression wouldn't have been noteworthy and might even have come across as bored. But Sabrina knew that blink. Her mother was thinking, turning over events in her mind as she searched for something known only to her.

"That was certainly a lapse in judgment on your part," Marlene finally said. "What did Olga say?"

Sabrina bristled at hearing her excitement over the microscope referred to as a "lapse in judgment" but did her best to hide it. "I apologized and stayed late to ensure everything was finished," she said instead. "The work was completed, so I can't see what she'd be upset about."

"She actually reached out to me this afternoon," said Marlene, causing Sabrina to stiffen. "She was worried something might have happened to you. I thought perhaps you'd had a fight with Maedra or Gerta and might need a moment, so I suggested she send a Helferin to find you." Her mother's slate-grey eyes narrowed every so slightly. "I don't like being asked questions I don't know the answer to, Sabrina. I had no idea where you were. You're lucky I came up with a plausible excuse to cover for you."

"I'd never let a fight with my friends interrupt my work!" scoffed Sabrina. "That's ridiculous! Why was that the first thing you thought might have happened?"

"Because that's what you're supposed to do at seventeen!" retorted her mother, her voice rising slightly. "You're supposed to have dramatic disagreements and fallouts with your friends, and then apologize and make up...typical seventeen-year-old things."

"If you already knew I wasn't at work this afternoon, why didn't you just say so?" asked Sabrina. "Why say you missed me at dinner? Just tell me Tante Olga reached out to you."

She hated when her mother played these ridiculous games. The woman would do anything to gain even a scrap of information before someone else, doing whatever she could to stay one step ahead of the other witches. That was all well and good in Hexen politics, but why did it have to apply to interactions with her own daughter, as well?

"I wanted to give you the chance to tell me the truth on your own," replied Marlene, causing Sabrina's eyes to roll before she could stop them. Her mother made it sound like she was being generous rather than calling her actions what they really were—controlling.

If she truly trusted Sabrina, she should know her daughter would tell her the truth, even though the timing might not be to her liking.

"I told Tante Olga about the microscope and apologized for being gone so long," Sabrina said. "I finished everything I needed to do. No one's upset, no harm's been done, and time will go on exactly as it always has."

Marlene raised her eyebrows, and Sabrina fell silent, suddenly wishing she'd never spoken to her mother and had simply pleaded exhaustion and slipped away to her bedroom.

"It sounds to me as if you don't find your metallurgy as fulfilling as you once did," said Marlene. "I can't say I'm surprised." She settled deeper into the overstuffed chair, pressing her shoulders against the cushioned back, even as her gaze remained fixed on her daughter.

"My metallurgy isn't the issue here," explained Sabrina. "It's the fact that, whatever I'm doing, it's always for the coven. What about me? What about what I want?"

"What you want?" repeated her mother before letting out a sharp laugh. "What you, or any witchling your age, wants changes so frequently, we can't make decisions based off it. If everyone simply did as they wished, the Hexen would cease to function...it would be utter chaos! That's why young witches focus on mastering their affinity under supervision until they come of age—our foremothers, in their wisdom, knew every affinity would be needed and studying them would be the best use of each witch's time and energy."

She gazed pointedly at Sabrina. "You, however, aren't just any witchling. Being a metallurgist isn't the only option available to you when you turn eighteen. And, in my opinion, it's certainly not the best use of your time and talents."

Sabrina considered saying more, telling her mother exactly what she thought of any career option that didn't involve metal, but she stopped the words before they could escape.

This wasn't the time. She might still need her mother's help in obtaining a workspace, and if that was ever to be more than a passing thought, it wouldn't due to upset the Sprechen further and ruin any chance of obtaining her assistance later.

And so, Sabrina swallowed down what she wanted to say, the unspoken words sharp against her throat. "I think I ought to go to bed," she said. "I'm more exhausted than I realized." Then, knowing it was expected of her, she added, "I'm sorry you didn't know what was going on when Tante Olga reached out to you about where I was. It won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't," replied Marlene firmly before returning her gaze to the book she'd rested on her lap.

Clenching her teeth and taking some comfort in the act of defiance, invisible though it was, Sabrina nodded, then turned and walked down the hallway until she reached her room and ducked inside, closing the door behind her.

Her new microscope beckoned from her desk, but seeing it only made her heart feel heavy. Why did such a lovely gift have to be followed by such a terrible evening? She considered going straight to bed but felt in some way as if that was admitting the rest of the coven—and her mother, in particular—had somehow won.

So, rather than let anyone get the best of her, Sabrina conjured an orb of light, suspended it overhead, and sat down at her desk, pulling the microscope closer and soon losing herself within the contents of the enclosed slides.

Picture by Tama66 from Pixabay