Unconsciously Perrin rubbed the palm of his hand, the94A CROWN OF SWORDSone a Shaido spear had laid open yesterday. Such as, perhaps, the wife of a man who was Rand's friend. Well? He could try grabbing her wrist; he was quick with his hands. A tall, dark, hook-nosed man stared back at her coldly, the long hilt of a sword rising above his shoulder.
Even mindless Mashadar fled balefire, it seemed. She—she is one of Queen—of Colavaere's lady attendants. Don't tell me you would not. For whatever reason, she had been on edge ever since joining Perrin on his way here, her serenity at best a thin veneer.
Join the newsletter to receive news, updates, new products and freebies in your inbox.