Listening to the voices just beyond the kitchen, Marian watched batter drip from the wooden spoon back into the mixing bowl, nervous that even the quiet sound of a spoon against a bowl might call attention to herself. It wasn’t likely anyone would notice sounds in the kitchen if she continued making breakfast. No one in her family noticed she was around unless there was some hearth-Craft they wanted done. But there was something about the anger and desperation edging her father’s wheedling voice and the strained annoyance in her mother’s that made her draw her wings in tight to her body in a defensive gesture and want to play least-in-sight.

“Hell’s fire, woman,” her father said, his voice rising. “It’s not so much to ask. I need the errand done, and I need it done now.”

“Why can’t it wait until after breakfast? One of the girls—”

“No.” A pause. “A Priestess-in-training and a Healer-in-training can’t take valuable time away from their studies for something simple like this. Besides, Marian isn’t doing anything important. She won’t be missed.”

Marian pressed her lips together as she looked at the biscuits ready for baking. She wouldn’t allow her father’s words to cut her this morning. She wouldn’t. Besides, she’d been hearing that sentiment in one way or another her whole life—more in the past few years since her younger sisters had been accepted into training. A hearth witch was a convenience, but her skills wouldn’t enhance the status of a family who wasn’t aristo, wouldn’t aid her father’s ambition to be more than a Fifth Circle guard for a light-Jeweled Queen.

She heard her mother’s exasperated “Very well, then” and went back to mixing the batter as Dorian entered the kitchen. Her mother hesitated, then moved briskly to the table where Marian was working.

“You heard,” Dorian said.

“Hard not to,” Marian replied, keeping her attention on the mixing bowl.

With a huff, Dorian pulled the bowl and spoon out of Marian’s hands. “Well, go on then. Take care of this errand that’s got him so bothered and get back here as quick as you can.”

“To do more things that are unimportant?” Marian asked, surprised to hear the resentment that had been building inside her for a long time actually color the words.

Dorian’s face flushed with temper, but she kept her voice low. “Don’t you use that tone with me, girl. I won’t put up with you getting snippy and acting above yourself.”

Marian swallowed the lump in her throat. Yes, this had been building for a while now. It might as well be said. “If I’m going to be treated like hired help instead of family, I should at least get a wage for the labor.”