Indirian and one-eyed Mandelain might have been thinking of something else, except that their unblinking gazes followed her. Shorter than any other Maiden there by at least a hand, she had hair as fiery as her temper, and an odd view of her relationship to him. Egwene al'Vere, you have rebelled against your Amyrlin, but I will show mercy. No surprises, that was what he wanted once they rode south.
One wall of the small stone house had collapsed, and a few charred timbers stuck up beside the soot-coated chimney like grimy fingers. To protect him. She let the tentflap fall shut with a smile. I can't keep the Queen waiting, now can I? he said cheerily.
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