Malden had changed her, though. She’d missed Tallanvor dearly. And then he’d come for her, when he shouldn’t have risked himself so. He was more devoted to her than to Andor itself. And for some reason, that was exactly what she needed. She began to make her way toward him, balancing eight cups in the crook of her arm while carrying the saucers in her hand.

“Maighdin,” Perrin said as she passed out of the tent. She hesitated, turning back. Everyone but Perrin and his wife had withdrawn.

“Come back here, please,” Perrin said. “And Tallanvor, you might as well come in. I can see you lurking out there. Honestly. It’s not as if anyone was going to swoop down and steal her away while she was inside a tent full of Wise Ones and Aes Sedai!”

Morgase raised an eyebrow. From what she’d seen, Perrin himself had followed Faile around lately nearly as much.

Tallanvor shot her a smile as he entered. He took some of the cups from her arm, then both of them presented themselves before Perrin. Tallanvor bowed formally, which gave Morgase a stab of annoyance. He was still a member of the Queen’s Guard—the only loyal member, as far as she knew. He shouldn’t be bowing to this rural upstart.

“I was given a suggestion back when you first joined us,” Perrin said gruffly. “Well, I think it’s about time I took it. Lately, you two are like youths from different villages, mooning over one another in the hour before Sunday ends. It’s high time you were married. We could have Alliandre do it, or maybe I could. Do you have some tradition you follow?”

Morgase blinked in surprise. Curse Lini for putting that idea in Perrin’s head! Morgase felt a sudden panic, though Tallanvor glanced at her questioningly.

“Go change into something nicer if you want,” Perrin said. “Gather any you want to witness and be back here in an hour. Then we’ll get this silliness over with.”

She felt her face grow hot with anger. Silliness? How dare he! And in such a way! Sending her off like a child, as if her emotion—her love—was merely an inconvenience to him?

He was rolling up his map, but then Faile’s hand placed on his arm caused him to look up and notice that his orders had not been followed.

“Well?” Perrin asked.

“No,” Morgase said. She kept her gaze on Perrin; she didn’t want to see the inevitable disappointment and rejection in Tallanvor’s face.

“What?” Perrin asked.

“No, Perrin Aybara,” Morgase said. “I will not be back here in an hour to be married.”

“But—”

“If you want tea served, or your tent cleaned, or something packed, then call for me. If you wish your clothing washed, I will oblige. But I am your servant, Perrin Aybara, not your subject. I am loyal to the Queen of Andor. You have no authority to give me this sort of command.”

“I—”

“Why, the Queen herself wouldn’t demand this! Forcing two people to marry because you’re tired of the way they look at one another? Like two hounds you intend to breed, then sell the pups?”