This way, Lord Rand. Amalisa and her ladies greeted each pronouncement with gales of laughter, falling against each other and drumming their heels on the carpets like girls. Every vein of every leaf, every curve of every petal. It won't do any good to avoid the Whitecloaks and ride right into a Seanchan patrol.
Where is he headed in such a hurry? Rand wondered aloud. If these people wanted oaths, he was prepared to swear anything. Leaning through an embrasure, he peered down past the slots in the stone for setting hoardings, down the sheer expanse of stone to the drymoat far below. She looked around hastily; they were alone in their stretch of the hall.
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