Are you listening to me, Lan? Tarasin Palace, he said in flat voice, without shifting his gaze. Graendal considered that, so much so that she tripped. You still had to take a sister on trust most of the time. Wetlanders liked to be called by only half their names, and Aviendha was trying to remember, however much it felt like using a honey-name.
Somewhere in those wagons was Rand al'Thor, perhaps still doubled into a chest like a bolt of silk. We need, to be on our way, Elayne, not standing around. Bah! Maybe Elayne bloody Daughter-Heir and her bloody dimple knew, or Nynaeve with her bloody hands twitching to yank her bloody braid, but he would be burned if he did. A tight window, set high in the wall yet level with the paving stones of a courtyard outside, let in a little stream of light, but the room seemed murky.
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