In his experience, old memories or new, there were only two times a woman admitted she was wrong: when she wanted something, and when it snowed at midsummer. The flame-haired woman eyed her bloody spear distastefully; Wise Ones were not supposed to carry spears. Elayne's eyes climbed slowly to the flat roof. Riallin, with vivid yellow-red hair and a grin for everything, actually managed to appear plump.
The watcher followed and listened. No one at the nearby fires even looked up; they were used to this by now. She knew that some men who could channel survived in this time aside from al'Thor—this fellow was much of a size with al'Thor. If the Daughter-Heir of Andor could not be allowed within a hundred miles of the Dragon Reborn, how much more they must preserve the Amyrlin Seat.
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