The Maidens’ habit of sending her in without announcing her had led to embarrassments in the past, but this time Rand was not sitting in his bath. The apartments had obviously belonged to the king, and the anteroom was more a throne room in miniature. Miniature by comparison with the real throne room, anyway. The wavy rays of a golden sun a full span across, set in the polished stone floor, were the only curves in sight. Tall mirrors in severe gold frames lined the walls beneath broad straight bands of gilding, and the deep cornice was made of golden triangles overlapping like scales. Heavily gilded chairs to either side of the rising sun made two facing lines as stiff as their tall backs. Rand sat in another chair, with twice the gilding and a back twice as high, atop a small dais that was itself encrusted with gilt. In a red silk coat embroidered in gold and holding that piece of carved Seanchan spear in the crook of his arm, he wore a dark scowl. He looked a king, and one about to do murder.

She planted her fists on her hips. "Somara says you should wash your ears right this instant, young man," she said, and his head jerked up.

Surprise, and a touch of outrage, lasted only a moment. With a grin he stepped down and tossed the spearhead onto the chair seat. "What under the Light have you been doing?" Striding the length of the chamber, he took her by the shoulders and turned her to face the nearest mirror.

She winced in spite of herself. She was a sight. The dust that had sifted through her shawl – no; mud, with the sweat added – made streaks across her cheeks and swirls across her forehead where she had tried to scrub it away.

"I’ll have Somara send for some water," he said dryly. "Perhaps she’ll think it is for my ears." That grin was insufferable!

"There is no need," she told him with as much dignity as she could muster. She was not about to have him stand there watching her wash. Pulling out her already grimy handkerchief, she hurriedly tried to clean off the worst. "You’re meeting Coiren and the others soon. I don’t have to warn you they’re dangerous, do I?"

"I think you just did. They aren’t all coming. I said no more than three, so that is what they’re sending." In the mirror his head tilted as if he were listening, and he nodded, voice dropping to a murmur. "Yes, I can handle three, if they aren’t too strong." Abruptly he noticed her looking. "Of course, if one of them is Moghedien in a wig, or Semirhage, I may be in trouble."

"Rand, you must take this seriously." The handkerchief was not doing much good. With the greatest reluctance, she spat on it; there was simply no dignified way to spit on a handkerchief. "I know how strong you are, but they are Aes Sedai. You can’t behave like they’re women in from the country. Even if you think Alviarin willkneel at your feet, and all her friends with her, these were sent by Elaida. You can’t think she means anything but to try putting a leash on you. The short and simple of it is, you should send them away."

"And trust your hidden friends?" he asked softly. Much too softly.

There was nothing to be done with her face; she should have let him send for the water. There was no asking for it now, though, not after refusing. "You know you cannot trust Elaida," she said carefully, turning to him. Mindful of what had happened the last time, she did not even want to mention the Aes Sedai in Salidar. "You know that."

"I don’t trust any Aes Sedai. They" – there was a hesitation in his voice, as if he had started to use another word, though she could not imagine what – "will try to use me, and I will try to use them. A pretty circle, don’t you think?" If she had ever considered the possibility that he could be allowed near the Salidar Aes Sedai, his eyes disabused her of it, so hard, so cold, that she shivered inside.

Maybe if he got angry enough, if he struck enough sparks with Coiren that the embassy went back to the Tower empty-handed, on their own... "If you think it is pretty, I suppose it is; you are the Dragon Reborn. Well, since you intend to go through with this, you might as well do it right. Just remember that they are Aes Sedai. Even a king listens to Aes Sedai with respect, even when he doesn’t agree, and he’d set out for Tar Valon on the hour if summoned. Even the Tairen High Lords would, or Pedron Niall." The fool man grinned at her again, or at least showed his teeth; the rest of his face was as blank as river rock. "I hope you’re paying attention. I am trying to help you," Just not the way he thought. "If you mean to use them, you can’t make them bristle like doused cats. The Dragon Reborn won’t impress them any more than he does me, with your fancy coats and your thrones and your fool scepter." She shot a scornful look at the tasseled spearhead; Light, the thing made her skin crawl! "They aren’t going to fall on their knees when they see you, and it won’t kill you when they don’t. It will not kill you to be courteous, either. Bend your stubborn neck. It isn’t groveling to show a proper deference, a little humbleness."

"Proper deference," he said thoughtfully. With a sigh, he shook his head ruefully, scrubbed a hand through his hair. "I suppose I can’t talk to an Aes Sedai the same way I do to some lord who’s been plotting behind my back. It’s good advice, Egwene. I’ll try. I will be humble as a mouse."

Trying not to look hurried, she rubbed at her face again with the handkerchief to hide her goggling. She was not really sure her eyes were popping, but she thought they must be. Her whole life, any time she pointed out that right was a better way, he stuck out his chin and insisted on left! Why did he have to choose now to listen?

Was there anything to the good as matters stood? At least it could not hurt him to display some respect. Even if they followed Elaida, the idea of anyone showing impertinence to any Aes Sedai really did upset her. Only she wantedhim to be impertinent, to be as arrogant as he had ever been. There was no point in trying to undo it, not now; he was not slow-witted. Only exasperating.

"Was that all you came for?" he asked.

She could not go yet. There might be a chance to put things right, or at least make sure he was not wool-headed enough to go to Tar Valon. "Do you know there’s a Sea Folk Wavemistress on a ship in the river? The White Spray." That was as good a change of topic as any. "She came to see you, and I hear she is growing impatient." That was from Gawyn. Erian had had herself rowed out to discover what Sea Folk were doing so far inland, and was refused permission to board. She had come back in a mood that would have been called a tail-lashing fury in any woman not Aes Sedai. Egwene more than suspected why they were here, but she was not about to tell Rand; for once let him meet somebody without expecting them to bow down.

"The Atha’an Miere are everywhere, it seems." Rand took a seat in one of the chairs; he looked amused for some reason, but she would swear it had nothing to do with the Sea Folk. "Berelain says I should meet this Harine din Togara Two Winds, but if her temper is anything like Berelain reports, she can wait. I have enough women angry with me for the moment."

That was almost an opening, but not quite. "I cannot understand why. You always have such a winning way about you." Immediately she wished she had the words back; they only reinforced what she did notwant him to do.

Frowning, he seemed not to have heard her at all. "Egwene, I know you don’t like Berelain, but it hasn’t gone beyond that, has it? I mean, you make such a good job of playing at Aiel, I could imagine you offering to dance the spears with her. She was troubled about something, uneasy, but she wouldn’t say what."

Probably the woman had found a man who told her no; that would be enough to shake Berelain’s world to its foundations. "I’ve not said a dozen words to her since the Stone of Tear, and not many more then. Rand, you don’t think – "