enatta stalked around the dim storeroom watching the busy servants rushing around with large crates and barrels. Shelves lined the walls, packed with various sized containers for the herbs that were used in the Infirmary, and the men were stacking more herbs from the fall harvest onto them. She sighed heavily and gripped a white fold of her banded dress tightly in irritation.

Today of all days she had the unfortunate luck of drawing the duty of supervising the stockroom in the Infirmary. Two days ago she had been a novice, not allowed to do much in the Infirmary except act as a courier to the Aes Sedai and now she was being thrown responsibilities like people threw bones to a dog. The Aes Sedai had not been joking when they said the first weeks as Accepted were strenuous. Already she had been assigned a mentee, told she must choose her studies immediately, study all hours of the day, and still defer to half of the population of the Tower like a bloody white-clad novice.

She berated herself. No, that was unfair. She didn't have to run chores for the sisters and the other Accepted anymore, and all the novices looked at her with respect now. Yet still these bloody men were getting on her nerves. They all wore sturdy woolens in black, white, and gray as was the custom of the Tower servants. They were all men, too. Perhaps that was the problem she thought. She remembered her mother always telling her the only place men had any sense was in the bedroom, and hardly there either. She grinned at that, missing the honest and open relationship she'd shared with her mother. Everyone in the Tower was stiff-backed and conservative compared to her normal Domani upbringing. She sighed again and surveyed the actions of the servants with her vivid blue eyes.

The young Domani woman watched as a pale stocky Cairhienin man hefted a barrel of willow sac and carried it to the shelf. She tightened her lips and walked up to him. "That doesn't go there," she said in a testy voice. "Can you not read?" She pointed to a sign that read Chamomile. "This is where the chamomile powder goes and the willow sac root goes on the other side of the room," she waved a plump, coppery-skinned hand in the general direction. "It's alphabetized even!" Stupid, stupid men, she thought.

The Cairhienin looked at her, his brown eyes wide and innocent. He looked down at the floor and knuckled his head. "I cannot." He spoke softly with the sharp consonants of his nation's speech.

Lenatta narrowed her eyes. "You cannot what?" She stopped and had to concentrate not to let her eyes widen or her jaw drop in surprise. "You mean cannot read?" she asked lightly, hoping that she was wrong and she hadn't seriously stuck her foot in her mouth.

The man shook his head. "No, mistress." He didn't look up from the floor when he said it, and Lenatta was grateful that he couldn't see the rosy splotches that rose to her cheeks in embarrassment.

"Oh," she paused slightly, her mind turning cartwheels trying to figure out what to say. "I apologize. I didn't mean to offend you�" She stopped, angry at herself now instead of him. "Why don't you help the men bring the barrels to the storeroom instead of sorting them out then," she suggested, smiling slightly and hoping that she didn't sound condescending.

The man started walking over to the other side of the room. "Where does it go, mistress?" She pointed to the third shelf near the corner of the dim room silently. He placed the barrel next to the others that crowded the almost full shelf and turned around to look her in the eyes. Her breath caught in her throat when she got a good look at his face. It was pale to be sure, but his brown eyes weren't muddy or dull seeming. His nose had a small bump near the bridge just below his eyes, but she thought it added character rather than appeared ugly or odd. His dark brown eyebrows weren't thin or too wild and thick; they arched above a deep-set brow quite nicely. His brown hair wasn't perfect either; it looked wind-tossed, but not untidy. Carefree was how it seemed, she thought. She blinked and shook her head slightly, bringing herself out of her reverie.

"I wanted to work in here because it will not make my shins hurt so bad from having to walk so far with these barrels," he replied honestly. Lenatta wrinkled her brow slightly, wondering why his shins would hurt just from walking. What had Talan Sedai said about stress and bones? "I didn't know that these had to be sorted." The man began to chew on the inside of his cheek which contorted his face into a particularly rabbit-like expression. Lenatta held back the smile that wanted to appear on her face as she imagined a little boy confessing a bad deed to his mother.

She finally permitted herself to smile when she thought she had contained her mirth. "It's okay." She stopped, and suddenly laughed when she realized something. "May I take a look at your leg?" She was Accepted now and didn't need an Aes Sedai to watch over her while she channeled!

"Sure," came the hesitant reply. Lenatta smiled wryly, knowing all the rumors about Aes Sedai and payments. She led him over to a collection of barrels and pointed for him to sit on one of them. He sat down, keeping a wary eye on her movements. Lenatta reached out a hand and laid it on his shoulder gently. His brown eyes stayed locked on the golden ring of a serpent biting its tail that wrapped itself around her third finger. She embraced the source and wove Spirit, Air, and Water in a simple Delving weave. She felt what was wrong with his shins and remembered what Talan Sedai had said.

"You've been exerting yourself too much and not stretching," she said in a matter-of-fact tone. "Your shin bones are about to undergo a stress fracture because of it." She looked up at him and wanted to chuckle at the mortified expression on his face. "Don't worry, I can take care of it if you'd like?" she asked.

He looked at her blue eyes and back to her golden ring and banded hem. She felt him squirm slightly through the contact she still had on his shoulder. "Would you, please?" He squinted his eyes shut hard and Lenatta smiled in amusement, shaking her head and causing her short auburn locks to swing about her tanned face. "Just relax."

He didn't, but that wasn't really necessary. The Accepted wove Spirit, Air, and Water again, this time more complex, and directed the weave into his body. The Healing swept through him in seconds and she could tell when it was over from the slight shudder that swept through his body when the weave dissipated. Lenatta took her hand off his shoulder and raised an eyebrow questioningly.

He stamped his feet against the ground and stood up. He appeared surprised she noticed. She seriously didn't understand why everybody seemed so shocked after being Healed; it almost never failed unless the wound was disastrously fatal, and Healing was a common practice within the Tower. Still doubtful, the man bent down and thumped each leg solidly. Lenatta chuckled. "If you injure yourself again by doing that just after I've Healed you, I might decide not to do it again, you know." The man straightened up suddenly and looked slightly abashed, but a smile flickered across his full lips when he noticed her teasing tone. He knuckled his forehead just short of mockingly.

"Eat something and then get back to work. You can handle the walk now, but remember to stretch your legs if you're going to be doing a lot of heavy lifting from now on."

"Yes, mistress." He bowed slightly to her and walked off. Lenatta watched his retreat for second, a smile still lingering on her rosy lips. She shook her head again, this time in amusement. Apparently, one just had to keep calm and things would turn out okay, she thought, and added that she should remember to watch her mouth from now on, too.