Sorghaghtani stared down at Saran further, then at Batu, and then at neither of them. She stood. She spoke once toward the three younger daughters and the word leave was all they needed, and they scampered back through the inner partition in the order they had entered.
Saran hadn't moved.
Sorghaghtani paused at the partition's felt and looked back at the oldest daughter with eyes that had learned, through years of managing situations she had not anticipated, to keep most of what she thought off her face. She had not entirely managed it tonight.
"She'll say whatever she wants to say," Sorghaghtani told Batu. "Don't bother about it after."
Then she was through and the partition closed a second time.
The ger calmed around the two of them. The lamp was steady. The cups sat on the table. Saran had stayed where she was when the others left, making no point even though the room was emptier, and no reason to pick up a cup from the table.
She spoke before Batu had had the chance to.
