Demira steepled her fingers against her lips and sighed. She did feel weak. “A thought occurs to me. If we charge him openly with what he’s done, he will deny it, of course, and we have no proof to fling in his face. Not only that, it might be wise to let it be learned that he feels free to hunt Aes Sedai like rabbits.” Merana and Berenicia exchanged glances and nodded quite firmly. Poor Stevan frowned furiously; he had never let anyone walk away from hurting her. “Might it not be better to say nothing? That will certainly make him ponder and sweat. Why haven’t we said anything? What are we going to do? I don’t know how much we can do, but we can at least make him look over his shoulder.”

“A valid point,” Verin said from the doorway. “Al’Thor has to respect Aes Sedai, or there will be no working with him.” She motioned Stevan to leave—he waited for Demira’s nod, of course—then took his stool. “I thought since you were the target—” She frowned at Merana and Berenicia. “Will you sit down? I do not mean to get a crick in my neck staring up at you.” Verin went on while they were still placing the room’s only chair and a second stool beside the bed. “Since you were the target, Demira, you should help decide how Master al’Thor is to be taught his lesson. And you seem to have made a beginning already.”

“What I think,” Merana began, but Verin cut her off.

“In a moment, Merana. Demira has the right to first suggestions.”

Demira’s breath caught as she waited for the explosion. Merana always seemed to want her decisions approved by Verin, which was natural enough under the circumstances, if awkward, but this was the first time Verin had simply taken charge. In front of others, at least. Yet all Merana did was stare at Verin for a moment, lips compressed, and then bow her head. Demira wondered whether this meant Merana was going to resign the embassy to Verin; there did not seem anything else she could do, now. All eyes turned to Demira, waiting. Verin’s were particularly penetrating.