The next morning found Sabrina still puzzling over the conundrum of obtaining her own workspace. She thought about it over the course of the day in between her repairs, which included a cast iron frying pan, the handle of a drawer, numerous pieces of jewelry, two lanterns, a shovel, a pair of fireplace andirons, the gears of a cuckoo clock, a picture frame, a mirror, a kettle, and a heavy chain used to secure things inside the Hexen gardening shed.

She was still thinking about it as she made her way to meet her mother for dinner, and she briefly considered bringing it up over the evening meal, but the Essen Hall was especially lively. Numerous witches kept coming over to the table, stopping by to say hello, offer her mother a hug or a compliment, or simply share what they believed to be an interesting anecdote about something that had taken place in the castle that day.

Marlene seemed to enjoy it all, never appearing disgruntled or bothered by the steady stream of interruptions, and Sabrina made sure to keep an appropriately cheerful smile on her face at all times, as her mother would be less inclined to assist if she thought Sabrina had been rude.

After dinner, Sabrina followed her mother to their apartment, and as the Sprechen sank into the armchair by the fireplace, a pile of parchments summarizing the running of the castle in her hand, Sabrina couldn't keep from pacing back and forth, trying to decide where to start.

"What's on your mind?" asked Marlene, her eyes flitting up from the stack of papers she was clearly eager to read.

Sabrina hadn't completely decided what she wanted to say, but the words spilled from her mouth of their own volition: "I'm not progressing in my metallurgy as well as I'd like."

"Oh?" Her mother adjusted the long strand of pearls around her neck. "All I hear from Olga and Ingrid is how well you're doing. Have they told you otherwise?"

"No," Sabrina shook her head, overlooking the compliment in her mother's words. Of course the other metalworkers thought she was doing well. But doing well wasn't good enough, and she refused to settle for their praise when it was actually her own accolades she craved. "They're perfectly fine with my progress, but it's not enough. I can be better. I can do better. I just need the space for it."

"What did you have in mind?" Marlene studied Sabrina, tilting her head slightly to one side.

Sabrina clasped her hands behind her back. "I need my own workspace," she said, "someplace I can do my research without being bothered or having other people come in and move things around. I need a place where I can work without being distracted or worrying someone's going to barge in and interrupt me."

"It seems like you've given this some thought," noted Marlene. "Have you mentioned it to your teachers?"

Sabrina drew a deep breath, wishing her mother would, for once, make things easy on her rather than forcing her to practically get down on her knees and beg.

"I mentioned it to Tante Olga," she said, trying to keep her irritation from reaching her face, as well as her voice, but not entirely certain how well she was doing on either front. "She seemed offended I didn't want to spend my life sharing a workspace with her and the other metallurgists. I wasn't trying to be offensive. I just want to master my affinity."

Marlene nodded, even as her cool grey eyes gave away nothing, not the slightest hint of what she was thinking.

Swallowing her pride, which felt about as pleasant as shoving knives down her throat, Sabrina finally said, "You're the Sprechen. I thought, perhaps, you could help me."

"You want me to use my position to help you obtain a workroom?" asked Marlene, disapproval twitching faintly in the corners of her mouth. But whether it was due to the audacity of the request or the fact that her daughter wanted to spend more time with her metal, Sabrina couldn't say.

While some part of her felt as if she should try to explain things, to coax her mother into seeing things from her point of view, the rest of Sabrina didn't see the point in exerting such effort. So, instead, she simply replied, "Yes. I need your help."

Let her mother think what she would. Sabrina would be off in her own workspace conducting her research, too busy to care.

Marlene lowered her gaze to the papers in her lap, although she appeared to be deep in thought rather than reading. As the seconds stretched on, Sabrina's nerves crackled like the fire that would be burning cheerfully behind her in another few months when summer gave way to fall.

Finally, her mother spoke. "I'm always happy to help you," she said.

Sabrina held her breath. It couldn't be this simple.

"I want you to do well in your metalworking," Marlene continued, raising her gaze to Sabrina's. "And if this is what you need in order to properly utilize your affinity, I see no harm in it. I only..." she hesitated, and inwardly, Sabrina steeled herself.

Here it came. Her mother's requirement for helping her. It wasn't enough to simply support her own daughter. No, this would have to be treated like an exchange rather than something done for sentimental reasons, and Sabrina didn't know why she felt surprised. It had always been like this with her mother.

Marlene gazed directly at Sabrina. "I only wonder whether you ought to focus so exclusively on your affinity."

Sabrina willed herself to stay calm, refusing to take the proffered bait and remaining silent instead.

Marlene's shoulders rose and fell in an elegant shrug. "Seeing as how you are my daughter, I really think it's time you took on more of a leadership role...attending Council meetings, assisting me with making decisions as Sprechen, and becoming more involved in the day-to-day running of the castle."

Sabrina had no interest in any of that, but she was glad her mother had shown her hand sooner rather than later. She wanted to say as much, but she also didn't want to anger the one witch who could most easily make her dreamed-of workroom a reality. So, she tried her best to find the middle ground between the two.

"Our affinities are how we contribute to the Hexen," she began, choosing her words with care. "I don't want to do less than anyone else."

"Of course not," agreed her mother, allowing Sabrina a rare moment of relief where she and the woman across from her both felt the same way about something—a relief that was shattered as soon as her mother spoke again.

"But while everyone is expected to contribute, not everyone can contribute in the same way. Most witches assist through their affinity, creating, growing, or selling things, and that's enough for them as individuals and for us a coven." Marlene's eyes began to glow with an internal fervor, as they always did when she spoke about something she personally felt passionate about.

"But others are meant to be more...to carry more responsibility, but also to wield more power. Leadership isn't for everyone, but for those of us born into it, there is no greater position."

"Perhaps that's the case for you," said Sabrina, the words flowing from her mouth before she could stop them. "But that's not the life I want for myself."

The fervor in her mother's eyes cooled to something far more dangerous, and Sabrina's stomach did a somersault as she searched for something, anything, to end the conversation, a phrase that would bring her and her mother back on the same side again.

Before she could say anything, though, her mother spoke.

"It's clear this workspace means a great deal to you," she said. "You were right to come to me about it." Lowering her gaze to the papers in her lap, she added, "Tomorrow I'll see about finding you an appropriate workroom. We'll revisit the topic of you assuming more responsibility in the Hexen another time."

"Thank you," replied Sabrina, barely avoiding grinding her teeth. Why couldn't her mother ever just support what she was interested in? Why was she only happy if Sabrina did what she wanted, what she thought best? What about what Sabrina wanted for herself?

There was also the question of why, exactly, her mother had suddenly changed her mind, but Sabrina didn't want to dwell on that, preferring instead to focus on being one step closer to the workroom she desired.

Marlene nodded in acknowledgement of Sabrina's thanks, although her eyes didn't stray from the papers in her lap. Knowing she'd been dismissed, Sabrina quietly made her way to her room, some part of her wishing she could slam her door shut, startling her mother, if nothing else. Then again, that wouldn't accomplish anything of value, and right now, she was more than willing to play nice if it meant getting the private workspace she craved.

But one day Sabrina wouldn't have to be nice or quiet, subservient to others' wishes that ran counter to the dreams she had for herself. Someday, she would make her own choices and, not only that, she would make those choices known loud and clear. One day, her life would be her own, and no one would tell her how to live.

One day, she would do as she chose, and when she did, there would be no stopping her.

Picture by user 455992 from Pixabay