When Orien reaches her home, she finds her uncle at the table where she had been working.
"And Sabi," he is saying, "tidy up this clutter."
"Hey!" Orien objects, "I was working with those!" Sabi pauses, her arms full of fragile books. She at least knows to handle them with care.
"This is not your workplace, it is my home," Orien's uncle says, his voice disdainful and cold. "Your work does not belong here."
"But I don't have anywhere else -"
"If your Knawan has no space for you then maybe you should find somewhere else to work."
"It's not space!" Orien objects, flushing with anger, although it's true that Ysenna's small home can barely fit the two of them even when she was well enough to work. "She's not -"
"The rationale is irrelevant," Berik says, walking away. "Taar Shiraya will be here soon. Go and tidy up."
And there is nothing Orien can say to that, however much she wants to.