“Which makes it all the more important that I quiet things now,” Elayne said. “I offered you a boon so that you could ask for forgiveness. I’d pardon you, and I’ll be certain to send troops so that your people are protected. Accept this, and we can all go back to life the way it should be.”
“That isn’t going to happen,” Perrin said softly. “The Two Rivers will have lords, now. I fought it for a time. You may, too, but it won’t change anything.”
“Perhaps,” Elayne said. “But recognizing you would be to agree that a man can just claim a title within my nation, then keep it by stubbornly gathering an army. It makes for a terrible precedent, Perrin. I don’t think you realize the predicament you’ve put me in.”
“We’ll muddle through,” Perrin said in that stubborn tone he used when he wasn’t going to budge. “I’m not stepping down.”
“You’re doing a poor job of persuading me you will accept my authority,” Elayne snapped.
Not good, Faile thought, opening her mouth to jump in. A clash here would not serve them well.
Before she could speak, however, another voice cut in. “Daughter,” Morgase said softly, drinking her tea. “If you plan to dance with ta’veren, be sure that you know the proper steps. I’ve traveled with this man. I’ve seen the world bend around him; I’ve seen bitter enemies become his allies. To fight the Pattern itself is to try to move a mountain with a spoon.”
Elayne hesitated, looking at her mother.
“Please forgive me if I overstep myself,” Morgase continued. “But Elayne, I promised these two that I would speak for them. I told you I would. Andor is strong, but I fear it could break itself against this man. He does not want your throne, I promise it, and the Two Rivers does need supervision. Would it be such a terrible thing to let them have the man they themselves have chosen?”
The small room fell silent. Elayne eyed Perrin, sizing him up. Faile held her breath.
“All right,” Elayne said. “I assume you’ve come with demands. Let’s hear them so we can discover if there’s anything that can be done.”
“No demands,” Faile said. “An offer.”
Elayne raised an eyebrow.
“Your mother is right,” Faile said. “Perrin does not want your throne.”
“What you two want may be irrelevant once your people get an idea in their minds.”
Faile shook her head. “They love him, Your Majesty. They respect him. They’ll do what he says. We can and will put down ideas of Manetheren rising again.”
“And why would you do that?” Elayne asked. “I know how fast the Two Rivers is growing with those refugees coming in over the mountains. Nations could rise and fall with the coming of the Last Battle. You have no reason to give up the chance to form your own kingdom.”
“Actually,” Faile said, “we have good reason. Andor is a strong nation, and prosperous. The towns in the Two Rivers may be growing rapidly, but the people have barely begun to want a lord. They’re still farmers at heart. They don’t want glory; they want their crops to survive.” Faile paused. “Perhaps you’re right, perhaps there will be another Breaking, but that’s only more reason to have allies. Nobody wants civil war in Andor, least of all the Two Rivers folk.”
“What do you propose, then?” Elayne said.
“Nothing, really, that doesn’t exist already,” Faile said. “Give Perrin an official title and make him High Lord over the Two Rivers.”
“And what do you mean by ‘High Lord’?” Elayne asked.
“He’d rank higher than other noble Houses in Andor, but beneath the Queen.”
“I doubt the others would like that,” Elayne said. “What of taxes?”
“The Two Rivers is exempt,” Faile said. As Elayne’s expression soured, she continued quickly. “Your Majesty, the throne ignored the Two Rivers for generations, not protecting them from bandits or sending workers to improve their roads, not giving them anything in the way of magistrates or justices.”
“They didn’t need it,” Elayne said. “They governed themselves fine.” She left unsaid that the Two Rivers folk would probably have tossed out tax collectors, magistrates or justices sent by the Queen—but she seemed to know it.
“Well,” Faile said, “nothing needs change, then. The Two Rivers governs itself.”
“You could have tariff-free trade with them,” Alliandre said.
“Something I already have,” Elayne said.
“So nothing changes,” Faile said again. “Except that you gain a powerful province to the west. Perrin, as your ally and subject lord, will agree to marshal troops in your defense. He will also call up his sworn monarchs to your allegiance.”
Elayne glanced at Alliandre. She’d probably heard of Alliandre’s swearing from Morgase, but also would want to hear it for herself.
“I swore fealty to Lord Perrin,” Alliandre said. “Ghealdan had long lacked strong allies. I meant to change that.”
“Your Majesty,” Faile said, leaning forward, tea cupped in her hands before her. “Perrin spent several weeks with some Seanchan officers. They have created a great pact of nations allied beneath one banner. Rand al’Thor, though you may trust him as a friend, has done the same. Tear, Illian, and maybe now Arad Doman are beneath his rule. Nations join rather than split, these days. Andor looks smaller by the hour.”
“That’s why I did what I did,” Alliandre said.
Well, in Faile’s view, Alliandre had been caught up by Perrin as a ta’veren. There hadn’t been much planning. But Alliandre might see it otherwise.
“Your Majesty,” Faile continued, “there is much to gain here. Through my marriage to Perrin, you gain a tie to Saldaea. Through Alliandre’s oaths, you gain Ghealdan. Berelain also follows Perrin and has often mentioned her desire to find strong allies for Mayene. If we were to speak with her, I suspect she might be willing to make an alliance with us. We could create our own pact. Five nations, if you count the Two Rivers as one—six, if you do take the Sun Throne, as rumor claims you will. We are not the most powerful nations, but the many are stronger than the one. And you would be at our head.”
Elayne’s face had lost almost all of its hostility. “Saldaea. What are you in its l
