The shorter man whipped the cloth away, revealing a heavy gold circlet, two inches wide, of laurel leaves. Not from Mistress Anan, his innkeeper, not from Nynaeve or Elayne, not from Aviendha or Birgitte. As soon as he is safe, I will pass him on to Nynaeve, the way Moiraine wanted, just as soon as she's— »Egwene flung up a hand, and Myrelle stopped as if she had clapped it over her mouth. Or perhaps not.
Even their halberds and the scabbards of their daggers and short swords shone with gold. He was taking notes. Egwene suspected that Sheriam worked to dig up petitioners, something to butter the cat's paws, to keep her out of Sheriam's hair while the Keeper took care of what she considered important. Or do you understand that it's only a wish not to offend Tylin that keeps us from confining all of you on
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