Janwin's creased face could have been carved from old wood, but it always looked that way, and if his blue-gray eyes seemed stormy, so did they always too. He was much calmer. By scent he knew her before he looked down. He reached under his coat.
Nariene had been noted for her honesty, but not enough to have been depicted completely bare-chested. Most of the other Redarms were squatting patiently on the stableyard flagstones; a few tossed dice in the shadow of the huge white stables. Back to Sorilea and breathiness. Amys and Sorilea exchanged glances and adjusted their shawls in near unison; their scents were identical, too, and matched their faces in pure determination.
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