They were all there, in the sitting room, and so was Lan, with his Warder's cloak already draped down his back and saddlebags on his shoulders. Deira studied Fedwin as she might a dead rat some overeager dog had dropped on her rug. For a long moment he said nothing, then began slowly, It's something a fellow named Carder worked out. Even her braid seemed to bristle.
In an instant they became a flurry of curtsies, of Yes, Mother and No, Mother and As you command, Mother. 700A' CROWN OF SWORDSBefore he could answer, crackling brush and leaves announced someone coming. The rumors are all too true, I fear, but we have seen none of them and will avoid them if we can. If anything were wrong between Rand and Merana.
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