It was nearly a snarl, and no less vicious for falling short. She had another cord for her bow yet. He insisted on accepting the strange, impossible tales that had seeped even into the Fortress. Nynaeve's eyes opened wider and wider, filling her face as it reddened to shame two sunsets.
In fact, the former horsethief and poacher kept so close to Elayne that anyone could have been forgiven for thinking he was her Warder, if a rather fat and rumpled one. Thorn, pouring himself a golden goblet of the wine punch that Mat had found waiting, took up the explanation. As it was, she had difficulty maintaining a smooth face. If she wouldn't mind you doing some laundry? She will not mind, the woman said in a tight voice, then turned and trotted off.
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