Moghedien, she breathed. en who had shared the coach, Ta-marla and a graying Saldaean woman named Janira, but the Daughter-Heir did not give up; oh, no. And secretive, as if she did not want to tell everything she knew or suspected. Yet what were even months of tears, compared with death itself? The stories were full of Warders dying to avenge their Aes Sedai, and indeed it was very often the case.
A few paces away, two of Myrelle's three Gaidin warily watched them descend into the hollow, Croi Makin, As night balances day, good balances harm. Colavaere had been wearing what must have been her finest gown, dark silk that glistened, with falls of delicate aged-ivory Sovarra lace. Sevanna eyed her sideways, then casually undid another lace of her own blouse.
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