People who had to walk seldom wore plumes. In short, the Rahad was the sort of place where anyone wearing silk could hardly hope to walk ten steps without being cracked over the head. Maybe he could follow them down at a distance. Wolfing down the last of the cheese, he began on the bread and tried to ignore the dice in his head.
The man would never have spoken this way to someone casually met, Caraline Damodred's supposed cousin or not. But Caraline Damodred herself, one of the leaders of the rebellion against Rand here in Cairhien, and a claimant to the Sun Throne. There was even a shelf in the large sitting room with a full dozen books. Dashiva, with no chair, took a place beside the door, standing upright quite easily, though the roof beams almost brushed his head, too.
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