“Bloody Whitecloaks,” Elayne muttered under her breath. Light, they’d actually been telling the truth when they’d written, claiming to have Morgase in their possession?

Galad eyed her, raising an eyebrow. He placed the chair he’d brought over, then undid his cloak, revealing the brilliant white uniform underneath, with the sunburst on the breast.

“Oh, that’s right,” Elayne said, exasperated. “I almost forgot that. Intentionally.”

“The Children had answers, Elayne,” he said, sitting. Light, but he was frustrating. It was good to see him, but he was frustrating!

“I don’t wish to discuss it,” Elayne said. “How many Whitecloaks have come with you?”

“The entire force of Children accompanied me to Andor,” Galad said. “I am their Lord Captain Commander.”

Elayne blinked, then glanced at Morgase. The elder Trakand nodded. “Well,” Elayne said, “I see we have much to catch up on.”

Galad took that as a request—he could be very literal—and began explaining how he’d come by his station. He was quite detailed about it, and Elayne occasionally glanced at her mother. Morgase’s expression was unreadable.

Once Galad was done, he asked after the Succession war. Conversing with Galad was often like this: an exchange, more formal than familiar. Once, it had frustrated her, but this time she found that—against her better wishes—she’d actually been missing him. So she listened with fondness.

Eventually, the conversation wound down. There was more to talk about with him, but Elayne was dying for a chance to speak just with her mother. “Galad,” Elayne said, “I’d like to talk further. Would you be amenable to an early dinner this evening? You may take refreshment in your old quarters until then.”

He nodded, standing. “That would be well.”

“Dyelin, Master Norry,” Elayne said. “My mother’s survival will lead to some…delicate issues of state. We will need to publish her abdication officially, and quickly. Master Norry, I’ll leave the formal document to you. Dyelin, please inform my closest allies of this news so that they will not be taken by surprise.”

Dyelin nodded. She glanced at Morgase—Dyelin wasn’t one of those whom the former Queen had embarrassed during the days of Rahvin’s influence, but she had undoubtedly heard the stories. Then Dyelin withdrew with Galad and Master Norry. Morgase glanced at Birgitte as soon as the door closed; the Warder was the only other one in the room.

“I trust her like a sister, Mother,” Elayne said. “An insufferable older sister, sometimes, but a sister nonetheless.”

Morgase smiled, then rose and took Elayne by the hands, pulling her up into an embrace. “Ah, my daughter,” she said, tears in her eyes. “Look at what you’ve done! Queen in your own right!”

“You trained me well, Mother,” Elayne said. She pulled back. “And you’re a grandmother! Or soon will be!”

Morgase frowned, looking down at her. “Yes, I thought as much from looking at you. Who…?”

“Rand,” Elayne said, blushing, “though it’s not widely known, and I’d rather it stay that way.”

“Rand al’Thor…” Morgase said, her mood darkening. “That—”