She doesn't look repentant for causing the other to flinch. In fact, she meets that glare with a steady look, patient in a way she's learned thanks to the Dothraki and her brother.

So many refused to allow her to care for them; it's a shame Lauralae is amongst them. It's with that thought surfacing that she finally withdraws, looking away, around them again. The egg is warm to the touch, even through the layers of her dress.

"I tried to hatch mine in a bonfire." Not in an unruly, undying flame as she'd made herself unburnt. "I don't think the flames were strong enough."