Dark eyebrows rose slightly as she glanced at his hand. Elaida's eyes popped open to the dim light of a single lamp held by Alviarin, bending over her bed with a hand on her shoulder. They could not be going to run. Duckling? And a little duckling, at that! The woman stood well short of his shoulder.
After all, she was Birgitte. d-damned, wild, that laughing, now, and t-this—is the P-Pit of—Rand muted the voice to an insect's buzz, something he had learned while cramped into that chest. I have to keep my promises, you see. How that galled.
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