Nynaeve spared an agonized glance for Mat, though. A finger outlined his lips. Elaida had the Foretelling sometimes, a Talent many thought lost before her, and long ago she had Foretold that the Royal House of Andor held the key to winning the Last Battle. The woman has the gift, she whispered without taking her eyes from the pair.
Layered silk petticoats rippled white and yellow as she crossed the room and walked slowly all the way around him. She wished she did not have to listen one more time to a tale of two flighty girls who had spent all their money on fine clothes to impress a man. The fellow's smile faded. You might try batting your eyelashes, too.
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