She only smiled. “There would be many advantages, and I would not try to pin you to my skirts. Many advantages. You’ve chosen a perilous life, or had it chosen for you. A Warder might have a better chance of survival.”

“I really don’t think so. No, but thank you for the offer.”

“Think on it, Mat. Unless. . . . Has the Amyrlin bonded you?”

“No.” Egwene would not do that. Would she? She could not so long as he wore the medallion, but would she if he did not have it? “If you will excuse me?” He gave her a shallow bow and walked quickly to where a pretty, blue-eyed young woman was tapping her foot to the music. She had a sweet mouth, just right for kissing, and he bloody well wanted to enjoy himself. “I saw your eyes, and I couldn’t help coming over. Will you dance?”

Too late he saw the Great Serpent ring on her right hand, and then that sweet mouth opened and a voice he recognized said dryly, “I asked you once whether you’d be there when the house was burning down, boy, but it seems you make a habit of jumping into fires. Now go away and find somebody who wants to dance with you.”

Siuan Sanche! She was stilled and dead! She was glaring at him with some young woman’s face she had stolen, was what she was, and wearing an Aes Sedai ring! He had asked Siuan Sanche to dance!

While he was still staring, a willowy young Domani woman swirled up in a pale green dress thin enough for the light of the bonfire to silhouette her through it. Giving Siuan a frosty look that was returned with interest, the Domani all but snatched him out among the dancers. She was as tall as an Aiel woman, dark eyes actually a little higher than his. “I am Leane, by the way,” she said in a voice like a honeyed caress, “in case you did not recognize me.” Her low laugh was almost a caress too.

He jumped and nearly fumbled the first turn. She also wore the ring. He moved by rote. Tall or not, she was a feather in his hands, a gliding swan, but that was certainly not enough to stop the question that kept popping in his head like an Illuminator’s fireworks. How? How under the Light? To top it all, when the dance was done, she said, “You are a very good dancer,” in that stroking voice, and then kissed him about as thoroughly as he had ever been kissed. He was so shocked he did not even try to get away. Sighing, she patted his cheek. “A very good dancer. Think of it as dancing next time, and you will do better.” And off she went laughing, back into the dance with some fellow she snagged from the onlookers.