He dug in. He tried to keep his manners, but the food was excellent, and it had been a long day. He found himself ripping into the ham with ferocity, though he tried to take care not to drip on the fancy blanket.

Faile ate more slowly, the scent of amusement mixing with that of her soap.

“What?” Perrin asked, wiping his mouth. She was lit only by the candles, now that the sun was fully down.

“There’s much of the wolf in you, my husband.”

He froze, noticing that he’d been licking his fingers. He growled at himself, wiping them instead on a napkin. As much as he liked wolves, he wouldn’t invite them to the dinner table with him. “Too much of the wolf in me,” he said.

“You are what you are, my husband. And I happen to love what you are, so that is well.”

He continued to chew on his cut of the ham. The night was quiet, the servants having retreated far enough away that he couldn’t smell or hear them. Likely Faile had left orders that they weren’t to be disturbed, and with the trees at the base of the hillside, they wouldn’t have to worry about being observed.

“Faile,” he said softy, “you need to know what I did while you were captive. I did things I worried would turn me into someone you would no longer want. It wasn’t only the deal with the Seanchan. There were people in a city, So Habor, that I can’t stop thinking of. People that maybe I should have helped. And there was a Shaido, with his hand—”

“I heard about that. It seems that you did what you had to.”

“I’d have gone much farther,” Perrin admitted. “Hating myself all the way. You spoke of a lord being strong enough to resist letting himself be manipulated. Well, I’ll never be that strong. Not if you’re taken.”

“We shall have to make certain I don’t get taken.”

“It could ruin me, Faile,” he said softly. “Anything else, I think I could handle. But if you are used against me, nothing will matter. I’d do anything to protect you, Faile. Anything.”

“Perhaps you should wrap me up in soft cloth, then,” she said dryly, “and tuck me away in a locked room.” Oddly, her scent was not offended.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Perrin said. “You know I wouldn’t. But this means I have a weakness, a terrible one. The type a leader can’t have.”

She snorted. “You think other leaders don’t have weaknesses, Perrin? Every King or Queen of Saldaea has had their own. Nikiol Dianatkhah was a drunkard, despite being known as one of our greatest kings, and Belairah married and put her husband away four times. Her heart always did lead her to trouble. Jonasim had a son whose gambling ways nearly brought her House to ruin, and Lyonford couldn’t keep his temper if challenged. Each and every one was a great monarch. And all had their share of weaknesses.”