Chapter 230

The next morning, Zoey sought Sabina out. After a series of increasingly louder knocks, she came to the conclusion that the woman wasn’t inside her assigned room. The door wasn’t locked either. Letting herself in, Zoey called out to announce herself, but no reply came. Sabina had already left. She frowned. That put a dent in her morning plans.

Fortunately, a note on Sabina’s neatly made bed caught her eye.

Zoey, it read. You can find me at the crafting wing. Our gracious hosts have been kind enough to grant me access to their workstations until I set up my own.

Zoey raised an eyebrow, then laughed. She couldn’t say she was surprised Sabina had hurried off to an alchemy station the moment she could. It wasn’t like much else was happening. Was she supposed to sit in her room all day?

The d’Celestin manor was a gargantuan place—as having an entire wing dedicated to their personal crafters suggested—so Zoey had to ask directions from one of the servants, who had been passing by with a cart filled with linens.

The young woman was dressed in a traditional frilly black and white maid’s uniform, which Zoey couldn’t help but admire. She wondered how Rosalie would look in one. Not that Zoey made her interest obvious. The woman was going about her job, and she wouldn’t interrupt that.

Even addressing the worker, though, seemed to fluster the woman, which Zoey found amusing, but she couldn’t let herself get distracted by a girl in a cute maid’s outfit. She got her directions and shortly made her way to the crafting wing.

Unsurprisingly, the professional space for the d’Celestin’s personal alchemist—or alchemists, plural?—was magnitudes grander than Sabina’s own workshop. There were rows of labeled ingredient cabinets, cauldrons and pots of all sizes, and glassware and other paraphernalia organized on shelves. All of it polished, the whole space so clean as to be impressive. That was what dedicated staff and endless funds could do, Zoey thought with appreciation. Sabina kept her workspace in good condition, but she certainly didn’t have servants going around polishing cauldrons to a reflective sheen.

She found the tall, antlered woman there, hurrying between counters and boiling pots, making two small batches of some unknown potion. She spotted Zoey as she walked in. They were alone inside the workshop. Perhaps because it was early, or perhaps because the official alchemists didn’t work every day.

Actually, there was one more person who, upon Zoey seeing her, made her do a double-take.

Mini-Mel was standing on a counter, hands on her hips as she watched Sabina work. Her face lit up on Zoey’s arrival, and she waved brightly in greeting. Zoey returned it, blinking in surprise.

The slime girl’s glass jar was set to the side. Sabina had taken over caring for her, apparently.

“Ah. Zoey. I was expecting you,” Sabina said. “Come give me a hand?”

After so many hours acting as Sabina’s assistant, she didn’t hesitate; she hurried over to help. She joined Sabina in the familiar scramble of tending to the temperamental, volatile craft, setting aside her questions to focus on the task at hand. When they finished pouring the bubbling stews into rows of vials and flasks, Sabina nodded in satisfaction, removed her gloves, and faced Zoey.

“This place will spoil me,” she told her. “There’s something to be said for working with familiar equipment, but nearly everything here is enchanted and of the highest quality. The cost has to be astronomical.” She looked wistfully around at the rows of rune-engraved cauldrons. “It simplifies certain tedious processes, to say the very least.”

“I’m sure, circumstances allowing, Rosalie wouldn’t mind you using her family’s workshop whenever you want.”

Sabina waved a dismissive hand. “That’s not necessary. As nice as it is, I’ll want to set up my own workshop again. I prefer an independent venture. Involvement with families such as the d’Celestins...” she trailed off. “Regardless,” she said, deciding better of finishing the thought. “I understand we’re still operating with some level of secrecy. Best to have our own space to work in.”

“Yeah,” she said. “For the most part. It’s complicated. That’s why I came to speak with you, there’s a lot to catch you up on.”

“Let’s hear it. Or should we find someplace private?”

Again, Zoey looked around. The workshop was an enclosed space; there weren’t any corners or hallways to hide around to eavesdrop. They ought to be safe. And besides—

“Rosalie said if her family wanted to spy on us, there’s nothing we could do about it,” Zoey shrugged. “So we have to assume they’re not. Here’s as good as any anywhere.”