She understood the woman's discontent, understood wanting to know it all now. Why don't we just go away and— Elayne lifted the latch and went in. Had the Murandian nobles worked together, all the brigands might have hung from trees by now, but that was like asking cats to dance. We are not disappointed in the least, Elayne assured her, making soothing gestures.
Any longer, and we'll begin to strip the countryside bare. Sleep held her faster than any manacles. Her grin was skewed slightly. Her name is Cadsuane Melaidhrin.
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