“Yes…I think I might do that.” The man nodded, seeming less threatened.

The two stepped aside, Chubain waving the servants to enter for their cleaning. Sleete came out, looking thoughtful. He held something up, pinched between his fingers. “Black silk,” he said. “There’s no way of knowing if it came from the attacker.”

Chubain took the fibers. “Odd.”

“A Black sister wouldn’t seem likely to proclaim herself by wearing black,” Gawyn said. “A more ordinary assassin, though, might need the dark colors to hide.”

Chubain wrapped the fibers in a handkerchief and pocketed them. “I’ll take these to Seaine Sedai.” He looked impressed.

Gawyn nodded to Sleete, and the two of them retreated.

“The White Tower is abuzz these days with returning sisters and new Warders,” Sleete said softly. “How would anyone—no matter how stealthy—travel the upper levels wearing black without drawing attention?”

“Gray Men are supposed to be able to avoid notice,” Gawyn said. “I think this is more proof. I mean, it seems odd that nobody has actually seen these Black sisters. We’re making a lot of assumptions.”

Sleete nodded, eyeing a trio of novices who had gathered to gawk at the guards. They saw Sleete looking and chittered to one another before scampering away.

“Egwene knows more than she’s saying,” Gawyn said. “I’ll talk to her.”

“Assuming she’ll see you,” Sleete said.

Gawyn grunted irritably. They walked down a series of ramps to the level of the Amyrlin’s study. Sleete remained with him—his Aes Sedai, a Green named Hattori, rarely had duties for him. She still had her eyes on Gawyn for a Warder; Egwene was being so infuriating, Gawyn had half a mind to let Hattori bond him.

No. No, not really. He loved Egwene, though he was frustrated with her. It had not been easy to decide to give up Andor—not to mention the Younglings—for her. Yet she still refused to bond him.

He reached her study, and approached Silviana. The woman sat at her neat, orderly Keeper’s desk in the antechamber before Egwene’s study. The woman inspected Gawyn, her eyes unreadable behind her Aes Sedai mask. He suspected that she didn’t like him.

“The Amyrlin is composing a letter of some import,” Silviana said. “You may wait.”

Gawyn opened his mouth.

“She asked not to be interrupted,” Silviana said, turning back to the paper she had been reading. “You may wait.”

Gawyn sighed, but nodded. As he did so, Sleete caught his eye and gestured that he was going. Why had he accompanied Gawyn down here in the first place? He was an odd man. Gawyn waved farewell, and Sleete vanished into the hallway.

The antechamber was a grand room with a deep red rug and wood trim on the stone walls. He knew from experience that none of the chairs were comfortable, but there was a single window. Gawyn stepped up to it for some air and rested his arm on the recessed stone, staring out over the White Tower grounds. This high up, the air felt crisper, newer.