Bi Chanjuan stared at her, her dark eyes unmoving. Her mouth had fallen open slightly, cherry-red lips parted. Lavender wisps of smoke floated out from between them, rising into the air like a question.
At last, she leaned back, her shoulders relaxing for the first time since she'd entered the tent. Her arching eyebrows were raised with surprise.
"Wow," she said, finally. "Sorry you had such a pitiful childhood."
Abrial's jaw clenched with rage. After a moment, it very slowly seeped out of her expression, like escaping scarlet smoke from a fire that had been put out, and she collapsed back into her chair, crossing her arms and turning her head jerkily away from Bi Chanjuan like a grumpy kid.
"I don't need your condolences or whatever!" she muttered in a low voice, face hot. "I just grew up…differently! Or, whatever!"
Bi Chanjuan lifted her pipe to her lips. The corners of her mouth curled up.
