Consequences

She comes back eventually. She doesn't particularly want to and yet it was where she was expected. And some part of her doesn't want her parents to worry.
 
It is late when she returns, much later than she should have been there. And she is…well, she could try to play it off, but she is well and truly drunk. She considers briefly, as she gives an unsteady bow to Hans at the door, that perhaps she should have slept it off first, but she had been expected today, hadn't she? It would be rude to keep her parents waiting longer than she already had. The thought makes her giggle, but Hans' impassive, stoic expression brings her back to reality a bit. She gives him a nod and hurries down the hall to the sitting room, her slightly stumbling steps barely managing to keep pace with his long stride.
 
"Baron and Baroness Jaeger, Lady Margarete has arrived." He announces from the doorway. Her parents do not rise. She curtsies. She manages not to fall, but she knows her state does not escape her parents' discerning eyes.
 
"Margarete." Her father says, motioning her to a chair. Her mother is silent. Peg moves toward the chair. She knows her mother is waiting for her to stumble or fall. She moves slowly, carefully, and sits.
 
"You were expected many hours ago. What kept you?" Her father's voice isn't harsh and she feels a pang of guilt. He wants her to be able to give a reasonable answer, something he could forgive. She doesn't have one.
 
"I…" She starts hesitantly and is almost immediately cut off by Baroness Jaeger's voice. Unlike her father's, it is hard.
 
"Choose your words carefully, child. Your father has a great misplaced trust in you. Do not abuse his affections."
 
Peg winces. Thoughts war inside her head, combining with the half bottle of imbibed whiskey to create a splitting headache. She fights the urge to put a hand to her forehead. They remain clasped in her lap, her eyes looking down at them. She doesn't know how to answer. Her mind swims through a swamp of alcohol, fear, and guilt. Her mother's voice breaks through.
 
"Look at you. You imagine yourself an independent woman, but sit her like a sniveling child. My great disappointment."
 
The fear and guilt now joined by shame and pain…and anger. She can feel it bubbling up inside her. Let go. The shadowy tendrils of magic wrap around her hands and climb her arms.
 
"Enough." It is her father's voice this time, quiet but commanding. "You are walking a dangerous road, Margarete, one that will not be tolerated in this family." His tone is gentle, but his words cut in ways her mother's never could.
 
She thinks about where she was: drinking on a rooftop with…a street rat. She hated the description, but she knew it was how they would see Fix. Would they find her? Punish her? –I'm going to hurt her again through my own selfish stupidity.-- She sets her jaw and looks at her mother.
 
"I went to the tavern for a drink. Lost track of time. Found myself a little fun…if you know what I mean." She tries not to look at her father. She can feel his heartbreak and disappointment. Instead she keeps her eyes locked on her mother's eyes, intense and angry. Why had family business taken Dieter so far from her? She could almost hear her brother's voice telling her to stop. She knew it was the right thing to do, but the voice that told her to keep going was louder.
 
"With enough coin, you can get someone to do almost anything to you."
 
Her mother's expression changes from one of anger to something far colder and she knows she's gone too far. Her eyes finally tear away from her mother to look at her father and he looks…broken. What in all the hells had she done? She wants to apologize, to fling herself at her parents' feet and beg for mercy. But, somehow she can't bring herself to move and the words stay stuck in her throat. Baroness Jaeger turns to her husband and he just nods and leaves.
 
"The coin that you so freely spend to drink and whore like some wretched street rat could be gone from you in a moment. I could put you out as easily as I did the footman who let you run off from the gate. The only thing sparing you from that is your father's grace. You have already destroyed the life of a servant. He will not be hireable again when let go for such incompetence. Be careful that you do not ruin your own life as well."
 
Peg winces at the information regarding the footman. She had never considered the consequences of her actions on him. –Of course I hadn't. I never do.-- The combination of drink and emotions makes her feel like she's going to be sick. Her mother looks pleased.
 
"Now, hold out your hands." Peg complies to the all too familiar request. Her mother retrieves a small cane from near where she had been seated. The wood cracks into Peg's knuckles again and again until they are black and blue and swollen.
 
"There are gloves by your bed. Go sleep off your liquor." Her mother turns and leaves without another word. Peg finally vomits and sinks to the ground. Eventually one of the maids finds her and helps her to her room. Her night is not a restful one.