“Let it be known,” Elayne said with a musical voice, “that the throne welcomes you, Lady Zarine ni Bashere t’Aybara. Queen Alliandre Maritha Kigarin. Perrin Aybara.” No use of title for him. “Let it be proclaimed in person our gratitude to you for returning our mother. Your diligence in this matter earns you the Crown’s deepest appreciation.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Perrin said with his usual gruffness. Faile had spoken to him at length about not trying to dispense with the formality or ceremony.

“We will declare a day of celebration for my mother’s safe return,” Elayne continued. “And for her…restoration to proper status.”

Well, that pause meant Elayne was displeased to know that her mother had been treated as a servant. She had to realize that Perrin and Faile hadn’t known what they were doing, but a queen could still claim indignation for such an event. It was an edge that, perhaps, she planned to use.

Perhaps Faile was reading too much into the comments, but she couldn’t help it. In many ways, being a lady was much like being a merchant, and she had been trained well for both roles.

“Finally,” Elayne said, “we come to the purpose of our meeting. Lady Bashere, Master Aybara. Is there a boon you would ask in return for the gift you have given to Andor?”

Perrin rested his hand on his hammer, then looked to Faile questioningly. Obviously, Elayne expected them to ask for him to be named formally a lord. Or, perhaps, to ask forbearance for impersonating one, along with a formal pardon. Either direction could be a result of this conversation.

Faile was tempted to demand the first. It would be a simple answer. But perhaps too simple; there were things Faile had to know before they could proceed. “Your Majesty,” Faile said, carefully, “might we discuss this boon in a more intimate setting?”

Elayne gave that some thought—at least thirty seconds’ worth, which seemed an infinity. “Very well. My sitting room is prepared.”

Faile nodded, and a servant opened a small door on the left-hand wall of the throne room. Perrin walked toward it, then held up a hand to Gaul, Sulin and Arganda. “Wait here.” He hesitated, glancing at Grady. “You, too.”

None of them seemed to like that, but they obeyed. They’d been warned this might happen.

Faile contained her nervousness—she didn’t like leaving the Asha’man, their best means of escape. Particularly since Elayne undoubtedly had spies and Guards hidden inside the sitting room, ready to spring out should matters turn dangerous. Faile would have liked a similar protection, but bringing a male channeler in to speak with the Queen…well, this was how it would have to be. They were in Elayne’s domain.

Faile took a deep breath, joining Perrin, Alliandre and Morgase in the small side room. Chairs had been arranged; Elayne had foreseen this possibility. They waited for Elayne to enter before sitting. Faile couldn’t see any place for Guards to be hiding.

Elayne entered and waved a hand. The Great Serpent ring on her finger glittered in the lamplight. Faile had nearly forgotten that she was Aes Sedai. Perhaps there weren’t any Guardsmen lurking around to help—a woman who could channel was as dangerous as a dozen soldiers.