Why was it, Sigyn wondered, that the powerful thought that normal rules didn't apply to them? If anyone had done to him what the had just done to her – ignoring her to make a phone call without so much as saying “excuse me” – he would likely have thrown a fit. He wouldn't have called it that, but it would have been a tantrum nonetheless. But because he did not think her an equal, he had no problem being so outright rude.
Sigyn's amusement with the day was rapidly beginning to fade. She'd seen the horses she wished to, and now, she thought, it was time to make her departure. Politely, because she had better manners than some she could name.
“I'm afraid my knowledge of Egypt came much later than yours,” she replied. “I didn't meet my friend when it was still called Kemet, though I have heard of it's glory days.”
Sigyn stood then, adjusting her purse as she did so. “And I quite prefer the red tea. I think that is my favorite. I can see you're very busy and intent on getting the lovely Morgan, so I think I should leave you to it. I hope you enjoy the rest of the show. Good day to you.”
Without excusing herself, since she did not feel as though she needed his permission, Sigyn began to make her way down the stands. Neatly ignoring his request for her friend's name. Sigyn had no doubt he knew Isis, but lacked conviction that they were on friendly terms. And Sigyn didn't really want to tell him anyway.