She looked not much older than he, and pretty in a sulky way, but there was a tightness to her mouth he did not like. Perrin peered around the corner at the retreating back of the Aes Sedai. A serving girl in her nearly transparent robe knelt at the bottom of the stairs, and a gray-haired woman all in white wool, with a long floury apron, knelt by the kitchen door. Cooks and scullions and potboys all but ran at their work; the spit dogs trotted in their wicker wheels to turn the spitted meats.
A movement at one of the doors behind the desk caught Rand's eye-a man starting to step into the anteroom, then turning away hurriedly. She imagined Anaiya back in Emond's Field, listening to her daughter's problems; the woman fit the picture. What are you, to me? Less than peasants. For a moment he thought he could see flames through the eyeholes of the mask.
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