"Right," Ky agreed when Ari'sora grasped that measurements were fractions. "And multiplying to scale up for a bigger cake, and dividing to cut enough slices that everyone gets one." She grinned wryly, knowing how much Ari'sora liked cake. Her grin dropped away, leaving her broad face plainer and flatter than ever, as she heard what the other woman had grown up with, though her hands kept working on autopilot to cook the flatbreads.
Listening to that made her own hurts from growing up seem smaller and less worthy, like a candle beside a bonfire, but even then the candle shed enough light on it to let her absorb the knowledge without immediately reacting. She should say something, she knew, but the words wouldn't come. What did you say to something like that? Her heart ached for Ari'sora, but even her lesser experience told her that pity wasn't the right response. "It doesn't," she said at last, with a great deal of careful understatement, "sound like the most fun way to grow up." She drew a long breath, and added equally carefully, "I won't say mine matches it, because it doesn't, but I know something about not being worth things. I think I was three the first time I was told I wasn't worth saving a dowry for because I was too stupid, useless, and ugly for anyone to ever want me. And yes, I would very much like to share your birth trial celebration."
She flipped the last of the flatbreads and took a moment to answer Ari'sora's questions about them. It seemed like a safer topic to retreat to. "They take a bit each side, the way I like them. Less than that and they're still doughy in the middle. Longer, and they stiffen and harden. Good for teething babies, not so much for wrapping around a filling. Talking of fillings..." She set out soft cheese, honey, lemon, butter, and a tiny stub of cinnamon stick on the table. "I suggest you put whatever you want on yours and I put whatever I want on mine, if that suits?" She added the flatbreads and plates and slid into a seat. She snagged the top flatbread, one that Ari'sora had rolled out judging by the roughness of the circle, and had to blow on her fingers to cool them from the heat of the fresh flatbread. "We'll need some of that butter for the cake, of course, but we can eat first. How are you for cider? Do you want any more?"