The flame-haired woman eyed her bloody spear distastefully; Wise Ones were not supposed to carry spears. Not that that had any part in Seaine trusting her. She has my complete trust. A furrow creased her forehead, but she gave her head a shake and the frown disappeared.
The Amyrlin Seat may call for any Sitter to resign her chair, or indeed for all to, and that call must be heeded. Women were just strange. Just as well, really. The clock—a clock!—on the marble mantel above the fireplace hi the sitting room sparkled with gilt, as well.
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