The woman bowed her head again, but her mouth was set stubbornly. Whatever Min said about Rhuarc or any Aielman, she had made a poor bargain the day she fell in love with him. Birgitte! In the flesh! Burn me, I could use a drink. Coughing, she covered her mouth and nose with a corner of the Amyrlin's striped stole and hurriedly retreated through the gateway to her ferry.
I don't think this is a good idea, Rand. Very likely, Sammael had gone, now that Mashadar was out. So much to be juggled at once. Most of the sisters tried to pretend they were unaffected by dozens of men who could channel gathering in one spot—the worst of the
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