Strips of grimy coatsleeve and pieces of shirtsleeve dangled as Rand reached to pick up the Laurel Crown. I don't know Merana, but I've never seen an Acs Sedai who qualified as a damp cloth. Three hours back in the Tarasin Palace, the dice still bouncing in his head, and he wanted to kick something. Who else would dare wear the ring? Waving her to silence, Nesta din Reas turned that same iron gaze on the man.
' 'A parting gift, it seems; there were loversknots and some other flowers strewn over both pillows. Inside the tent, Bashere himself was already booted and spurred, and his sword on his hip. Yet that made no sense. All we can do now is wait.
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