Her babes were safe, so far as Melfane could tell. That was the important part. "Bed rest is, of course, impossible," Elayne said. "I have far too much to do."

"Well, it will have to be done from bed," Melfane replied, her voice pleasant but completely unyielding. "Your body and your child have undergone a great stress. They need time to recover. I will be attending you and making certain you maintain a strict diet."

"But—"

"I won't hear any excuses," Melfane interrupted.

"I'm the Queen!" Elayne said, exasperated.

"And I'm the Queen's midwife," Melfane replied, still calm. "There isn't a soldier or attendant in this palace who won't help me, if I determine that your health—and that of your child—is at risk." She met Elayne's eyes. "Would you like to put my words to the test, Your Majesty?"

Elayne cringed, imagining her own Guards forbidding her exit to her chambers. Or, worse, tying her down. She glanced at Birgitte, but received only a satisfied nod. "It's no more than you deserve," that nod seemed to say.

Elayne sat back in her bed, frustrated. It was a massive four-poster, decorated in red and white. The room was ornate, sparkling with various creations of crystal and ruby. It would make a beautifully gilded prison indeed. Light! This wasn't fair! She did up the front of her gown.

"I see that you're not going to try my word," Melfane said, standing up from the side of the bed. "You show wisdom." She glanced at Birgitte. "I will allow you a meeting with the Captain-General to assess the evening's events. But no more than a half-hour, mind you. I won't have you exerting yourself!"

"But—"

Melfane wagged that finger at her again. "A half-hour, Your Majesty. You are a woman, not a plow beast. You need rest and care." She turned to Birgitte. "Do not upset her unduly."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Birgitte said. Her anger was finally beginning to abate, replaced by amusement. Insufferable woman.

Melfane withdrew to the outer chamber. Birgitte remained where she was, regarding Elayne through narrow eyes. Some displeasure still boiled and churned from the bond. The two regarded one another for a long moment.

"What are we do to with you, Elayne Trakand?" Birgitte finally asked.

"Lock me in my bedroom, it appears," Elayne snapped. "Not a bad solution."

"And would you keep me here forever?" Elayne asked. "Like Gelfina, from the stories, locked away for a thousand years in the forgotten tower?" Birgitte sighed. "No. But six months or so would help keep my anxiety levels down."

"We don't have time for that," Elayne replied. "We don't have time for much, these days. Risks must be taken."

"Risks involving the Queen of Andor going alone to face a mob of the Black Ajah? You're like some blood-besotted idiot on the battlefield, charging ahead of his comrades, seeking death without a shield-mate to guard your back!"

Elayne blinked at the anger in the woman.

"Don't you trust me, Elayne?" Birgitte asked. "Would you be rid of me, if you could?"

"What? No! Of course I trust you."

"Then why won't you let me help you? I'm not supposed to be here, now. I have no purpose other than what circumstance has given me. You made me your Warder, but you won't let me protect you! How can I be your bodyguard if you won't tell me when you're putting yourself in danger?"

Elayne felt like pulling the covers up to shield herself from those eyes. How could Birgitte be the one who felt so hurt? Elayne had been the one who'd been wounded! "If it means anything," she said, "I don't intend to do this again."

"No. You'll do something else reckless."

"I mean, I intend to be more careful. Maybe you're right, and the viewing isn't a perfect guarantee. It certainly didn't stop me from panicking when I felt a real danger."

"You didn't feel a real danger when the Black Ajah locked you up and tried to cart you away?"

Elayne hesitated. She should have been frightened that time, but she hadn't been. Not only because of Min's viewing. The Black Ajah would never have killed her, not under those circumstances. She was too valuable.

Feeling that knife enter her side, pierce her skin, dig toward her womb… that had been different. The terror. She could remember the world blackening around her, her heartbeat thudding, growing louder, like the drumbeats at the end of a performance. The ones that came before the silence.

Birgitte regarded Elayne appraisingly. She could feel Elayne's emotions. She was Queen. She could not avoid risks. But… perhaps she could rein herself in.

"Well," Birgitte said, "did you at least discover anything?"

"I did," Elayne said. "I—"

At that moment, a scarf-wrapped head appeared in the doorway. Mat had his eyes closed. "You covered up?"

"Yes," Elayne said. "And in a far more fashionable way than you, Matrim Cauthon. That scarf looks ridiculous."

He scowled, opening his eyes and pulling off the scarf, revealing the angular face beneath. "You try moving through the city without being recognized," he said. "Every butcher, innkeeper and bloody backroom slipfinger seems to know what I look like these days."

"The Black sisters were planning to have you assassinated," Elayne said.

"What?" Mat asked.

Elayne nodded. "One mentioned you. It sounded like Darkfriends had been searching for you for some time, with the intent of killing you."

Birgitte shrugged. "They're Darkfriends. No doubt they want us all dead."

"This was different," Elayne said. "It seemed more… intense. I suggest keeping your wits about you the next while."

"That'll be a trick," Birgitte noted. "Seeing as to how he doesn't have any wits in the first place."

Mat rolled his eyes. "Did I miss you explaining what you were doing in the flaming dungeons, sitting in a pool of your own blood, looking for all the world like you'd seen the losing end of a battlefield skirmish?"

"I was interrogating the Black Ajah," Elayne said. "The details are none of your concern. Birgitte, have you a report from the grounds?"

"Nobody saw Mellar leave," the Warder said. "Though we found the secretary's body on the ground floor, still warm. Died from a knife to the back."

Elayne sighed. "Shiaine?"

"Gone," Birgitte said, "along with Marillin Gemalphin and Falion Bhoda."

"The Shadow couldn't leave them in our possession," Elayne said with a sigh. "They know too much. They had to end up either rescued or executed."

"Well," Mat said, shrugging, "you're alive, and three of them are dead. Seems like a reasonably good outcome."

But the ones who escaped have a copy of your medallion, Elayne thought. She didn't speak it, however. She also didn't mention the invasion that Chesmal had spoken of. She would talk of it with Birgitte soon, of course, but first she wanted to consider it herself.

Mat had said the night's events had a "reasonably good outcome." But the more Elayne thought about it, the more dissatisfied she was. An invasion of Andor was coming, but she didn't know when. The Shadow wanted Mat dead, but as Birgitte had pointed out, that was no surprise. In fact, the only certain result of the evening's adventures was the sense of fatigue Elayne felt. That and a week confined to her rooms.