Mab's hands were cold. Aestrith held them in both of hers and did not react to the temperature.
She had been talking for several minutes in a voice too low for the rest of the room to follow, and now she had stopped. The room stopped into a kind of anticipation.
Mab was looking at her, the way an eleven-year-old looks when they have been told that something is going to be better after and they believe it but not all the way, and they cannot make the not-all-the-way part go away by wanting to.
Her breathing had shortened, and when the room focused fully on her, it shortened further.
"Look at my eyes," Aestrith said, still low. "Keep looking."
Mab locked her flickering gaze with hers.
"Good."
Aestrith said, which was as close to reassurance as she was going to offer. "Now follow my lead. You can do this."
