Nynaeve very nearly swallowed again. Just because Aes Sedai could not lie did not mean every threat had to be taken literally, but sometimes a sparrow would starve on the difference. With anybody but Nicola, she would have yelped “Oh, Light!” and scurried. Not under those eyes. Not in front of a woman who seemed to be storing up a list of her weaknesses. “In that case, I suppose there’s no need for you to run ahead of me. Go on about your duties.” Turning her back on Nicola’s curtsy as if she had no care in the world, she spoke to Birgitte. “I’ll talk with you later. I suggest you do nothing about the matter until then.” With luck that might keep her away from Uno. With a great deal of luck.

“I will consider your suggestion,” Birgitte said gravely, but there was nothing grave about the mixture of sympathy and amusement on her face. The woman knew Aes Sedai. In some ways, she knew more about Aes Sedai than any Aes Sedai.

There was nothing for it but to accept and hope. As Nynaeve started up the street, Nicola fell in beside her. “I told you to be about your duties.”

“They said to come back when I found you, Accepted. Is that one of your herbs? Why do you use herbs? Is it because you can’t—? Forgive me, Accepted. I should not have mentioned that.”

Nynaeve blinked at the sack of goosemint in her hand—she did not remember taking it out—and stuffed it back in her pouch. She wanted to chew the whole sackful of leaves. She ignored the apology and its cause; one was surely as false as the other was deliberate. “I use herbs because Healing isn’t always necessary.” Would the Yellows disapprove if that got back to them? They were contemptuous of herbs; they only seemed interested in illnesses that did need Healing. Or those where it was not cracking pecans with a sledgehammer, anyway. What was she doing worrying over what she said to Nicola in case it should be carried to Aes Sedai? The woman was a novice, no matter how she looked at her and Elayne. It did not matter how she looked at them. “Keep quiet,” she said irritably. “I want to think.”

Nicola did keep quiet as they wended their way through the crowded streets, but it seemed to Nynaeve that the woman’s steps dragged. Perhaps it was only imagination, but Nynaeve’s knees began to ache from the effort of not outpacing her. Under no circumstances would she let Nicola see her even appear to hurry.