The Amyrlin’s gaze fell on Elayne, and abruptly she spoke, nearly loud enough to rattle the copper pots and pans hanging on the walls. “There are some words I will not tolerate in a young woman’s mouth, Elayne of House Trakand. If you let them in, I will see them scrubbed out!” Everyone in the kitchen jumped.

Elayne looked confused, and indignation crept across Egwene’s face.

Nynaeve shook her head, small frantic shakes. No, girl! Hold your tongue! Don’t you see what she is doing?

But Egwene did open her mouth, with a respectful if determined, “Mother, she did not—”

“Silence!” The Amyrlin’s roar produced another ripple of jumps. “Laras! Can you find something to teach two girls to speak when they should and say what they should, Mistress of the Kitchens? Can you manage that?”

Laras came waddling faster than Nynaeve had ever seen the woman move before, darting at Elayne and Egwene to seize an ear of each, all the while repeating, “Yes, Mother. Immediately, Mother. As you command, Mother.” She hurried the two young women out of the kitchen as if eager to escape the Amyrlin’s stare.

The Amyrlin was now close enough to Nynaeve to touch her, but still looking over the kitchen. A young cook, turning with a mixing bowl in her hands, chanced to catch the Amyrlin’s eye. She gave a great squeak as she scuttled away across the floor.

“I did not mean for Egwene to be caught in that.” The Amyrlin barely moved her lips. It looked as if she were muttering to herself, and from the expression on her face, no one in the kitchen wanted to hear what she was saying. Nynaeve could just make out the words. “But perhaps it will teach her to think before she speaks.”

Nynaeve turned the spit and kept her head down, trying to look as if she were also muttering under her breath if anyone looked. “I thought you were going to keep a close eye on us, Mother. So we could report what we find.”

“If I come stare at you every day, Daughter, some would grow suspicious.” The Amyrlin kept up her study of the kitchen. Most of the women seemed to be avoiding even looking in her direction for fear of incurring her wrath. “I planned to have you brought to my study after the midday meal. To scold you for not choosing your studies, so I implied to Leane. But there is news that could not wait. Sheriam found another Gray Man. A woman. Dead as last week’s fish, and not a mark on her. She was laid out as if resting, right in the middle of Sheriam’s bed. Not very pleasant for Sheriam.”