A lady like her would not talk the same way with a shepherd, he was sure, even one who had saved her life. Not without risking running into Whitecloaks. Women filled the corridor, serving women in the black-and-gold, ladies of the keep in silks and laces, women in em Manetheren's long dead and forgotten, Lan.
All wore the clothes of the Foregate, though, a blend of the styles of half a dozen countries. Even then Hurin did not seem to like letting Loial lift Rand to catch the top of the wall and pull himself over. What about you, Elayne? The only thing that terrifies me, Elayne said airily, is washing dishes. His eyes burned like blue fire, and his mouth twisted.
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