How long? He touched the sword hilt at his side. Enough to help you a bit. Time seemed to stretch out, as if the cold crept over her by the width of one hair at a time, and every hair took minutes. By your leave, Mother, I will stand.
Lan looked at her, mouth tight. You cannot deny that, unless you want to call Mother a liar, and that, I think, would take more nerve than we have between us. Fain dropped to his knees, giving a good imitation of being overwhelmed. There was a note of resignation, or acceptance, in his voice.
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