The pockets of his long coat had a telltale bulge, and his saddlebags showed the square imprints of books. For a moment it seemed that Ingtar would ask again, but meeting her level gaze, he shrugged and turned to Hurin. Yet they, too, had a sameness, one that was only obvious when they stood together like this. A day, maybe, before it fades.
They were approaching the doors, where half a dozen guards stood with the Tree and Crown of House Damo tomorrow, we'll leave for Cairhien. I can always touch you. That was one, but everyone knew that the truth an Aes Sedai said might not be the truth you thought you heard.
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