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Liandrin ignored Katerine's stinging words as if they were bitemite.
Temper boiled in her dark gaze, but as always Katerine said no more - there was no need. They were too close together, in terms of power.
The Red Ajah's premises were unusually quiet, the Reds were doing their work, their world-saving work in the outside world, not in the silence of Tar Valon.
Pevara Tazanov’s gentle humming got on Liandrin's nerves, so she noted in curt way, " Shouldn't you be on the road again Pevara, a new patrol is leaving soon, and you've always had a knack as I do."
Pevara didn't answer, she took a gleaming red apple from her pocket and tossed it into the air.
Katerine's vulpine features held a look of quiet mockery, as fair and icy Tarna Feir, remarked, " Galina got a dove from Caemlyn."
The thoughtful silence deepened.
Finally, Pevara shrugged and said, "Elaida is still a Red, despite her years as Morgase's advisor."
Liandrin felt Katerine's gaze fixed on her cheekbones. Dark brown eyes sparkled as Katerine whispered, in a spiky teasing tone, "Elaida, there's a bet involving her, here, still. Does anyone care to make another guess?"
Pevara tossed her apple into the air once more, and as she did so, she thought of Seaine, her sudden boldness, the silkiness of her long black hair, that maddening logic that masked a slight daring and a fervor that matched her own impulsiveness and temperament seamlessly.
Pevara noticed that Liandrin was shaking her abundant honey-colored braids irritably, as she replied to Katerine, "I know I can't rest unless I say something, as you shall pester me about it, so I'm saying that the candidate was someone perhaps not a favorite."
Pevara noticed that Tarna Feir seemed outwardly bored, but she caught a glint of interest in her blue eyes as Tarna remarked coolly, "How do you conclude that Liandrin?"
A cat-like smile rose to Liandrin's red rosebud lips, the Red Sister stretched without answering, lazily.
The door opened and Galina Casban stalked in, everyone straightening up slightly from their positions. Galina's dark eyes sparkled as she said curtly, " Pevara, Liandrin leave immediately tomorrow before dawn."
Katerine glanced towards the Highest and said, " What did the Amyrlin want?"
On Galina Casban's dark red lips played a small smile, as she replied, " What all Amyrlins want, Siuan Sanche is no different than any other who has held the Stole and Staff."
Pevara sliced her apple, and thought about how Seaine's hair had smelled of apple blossom, years and years ago, perhaps it still did.
In Grey Ajah Quarters Delana Mosalaine glanced at Meidani quietly, in her usual furtive way.
The honey-hued rays of the setting sun had wrapped the golden-haired Aes Sedai in shimmering light, as Meidani stretched, her thin, high-necked silk dress seeming to reveal every curve of her body, as ever present emeralds and Arafellian firedrops sparkled in thin silvery chains, in her abundant hair, there was light spicy scent perfume of almonds and vanilla floating around her. Delana bit her lip, and forced herself to keep her voice calm, as a secret, shameful desire burned, moistened her thighs, as she inquired, "Meidani, where have you been traveling these past months, you and Leonin?"
Meidani raised her bright, deep blue, long-lashed gaze, which at times, diplomatically calm, and not capricious, sulky, managed to raise Delana's pulse, as the sonorous voice replied, "Oh, here and there, you know, the need is so great."
Delana inquired, "Did you go to the Andor area?"
A shadow seemed to flicker across the high cheekbones, the hue of which was like cream and roses, thick dark eyelashes drooped, and Meidani answered quietly, a little stiffly, "No."
Delana raised her eyebrows, and said in wonder, "Strange, Caemlyn Palace has always received all sisters with great hospitality, during Morgase's reign the bond between the White Tower and Andor has been forged strong, but of course some of that is ancient tradition, but perhaps also the influence of the Elaida Sedai."
Delana noticed that Meidani was squirming a little on her divan, across the room a soft Borderlander tune began to echo from the harp, as Leonin's slender fingers caressed the strings. Delana leaned back in her chair and let the tune carry her away. In the corner, Joyia Byir read her book contentedly, a pile of parchment lying around her in a messy heap.
Siuan Sanche tapped her fingers impatiently on the railing of her private garden.
Tar Valon sparkled in the light of the setting sun.
The Hall was like a slippery Silverspike looming in the Delta, the Reds and Greens speaking almost in unison. Old alliances had been transformed again.
The bluish Tairen maze-tattoos crisscrossed Siuan's arms, their number steadily increasing.
Inside in the anteroom Leane rustled papers in her usual brisk way.
Siuan leaned back and for a fleeting moment gave way to her irritation and throbbing longing, arousal thrummed under her skin, Moiraine, Moiraine. No message had come for weeks.
Against the setting sun, doves flew in the sky of Tar Valon.
With determination, Siuan glanced at the sky, word from Moiraine would surely come soon, soon it would have to. The whole world seemed to sway, to tremble, False Dragons were rumored to walk the world again, the orders had gone out.