15/03/2026 01:06

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Truth only, speak to me. Only the Empress herself has a finer collection. It's asleep, he whispered incredulously. The dagger, bare-bladed.

Nynaeve strode into the stable as if she owned it. He had seen it once before, and Moiraine had told him what it was. A serving girl in her nearly transparent robe knelt at the bottom of the stairs, and a gray-haired woman all in white wool, with a long floury apron, knelt by the kitchen door. She could remember everything, remember channeling the One Power as easily as lifting her hand.