Two duties confronted her, and if one lay nearer her heart, she had chosen the one she considered more important, more honorable. considering. If Elaida had a suspicion of the truth, a thousand leagues would not keep her from Alviarin's throat. I could use a pitcher of wine, myself.
Not an advance on the truth; Niall's chest no longer moved, and killing him had been treason. And there was a woman, and an Ogier. She wouldn't have wanted her face too smooth, after all. Only one crime among those they have committed demands stilling.
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