And she knew exactly what the real issue was. Of course she did. Silvana made a face and laughed, but took another sip from her glass before turning back to her newest painting. In truth, she had done little else than stare at it for the past half-hour or so, adding a touch of paint every now and then whenever her critical eye spotted a place where something seemed called for. There weren’t many such places any more; she had improved immensely as a painter over these past few years, and everyone who saw her work admitted as much. The intense golden eyes of a slender man with dark hair stared straight at her from the canvas, beautiful in a way but also uncomfortably sharp. Silvana had observed the portrait from different angles, from various distances, and somehow the golden eyes kept following her around the room as if they knew her every secret and wanted her to know it, too. The artist in her recognised complete, utter success and whooped in glee and joy, but some less easily identified part of her felt her skin crawl at the sight. Beautiful eyes, but also horrible in a way, and trying to spot the place where one ended and the other started was like trying to walk on the edge of a sharp blade. How aunt Kristal had coped with such a pair of eyes for years and years, Silvana did not know, but it couldn’t have been easy.

Silvana shook her head and gave the portrait of Adolphus a rueful smile. He’d be pleased to see it, of that she had no doubts. Another success, another small victory secured. Although the thought of playing with him and wrapping him around her little finger had occurred to her almost immediately after she had met him in the Ogier grove, some vague instinct she had no name for had kept her from it, and now that some time had passed from that meeting, Silvana truly believed it had been a wise decision. Toying with such a one just for the fun of seeing him writhe wouldn’t have been smart at all, especially since she had no wish to see any repetition of the violently jealous drama show that had sprung up in Fal Dara before she had come to Tar Valon. Huh. Silvana still shuddered to think of it. It was impossible for her to deny that playing a handful of hopeful suitors against each other had made her feel giddy with power and might beyond reckoning, but if one had to live with that kind of angry passion every day… No. It had been amusing for a while, but these days she just didn’t have the patience to deal with it. She was tired, so tired, of such trivialities.

One-sided passion, and worship, and impossible promises were what one could expect out of life when one had a face and a figure like Silvana al’Cair, and that was the Light’s own truth. Silvana only needed to glance at a mirror, and the truth of it struck her a ringing blow right across the cheek. Twenty winters behind her, she was more beautiful than ever, so beautiful that her pure crystalline features made men fall silent and stare with wide eyes as she walked by. She was lovelier than her mother ever, and Silya of house Shinowa had been the sole target of a hundred Shienaran men’s gentle dreams for years before Silvana’s father had won her cautious heart. Some of that same beauty occasionally flashed in the kind eyes of Silvana’s brother, or in the ready smile of her younger sister, but the brunt of it had landed on her, and no doubt about it. Her silvery blonde tresses and sparkling brown eyes were sighed over wherever she went, and her slender and graceful figure and gently swaying walk caught the eye of everyone walking around in breeches.

It was a blessing and a curse, an undeniable fact that gave Silvana reason to laugh and to weep. It felt wonderful to be worshipped like she was the Creator’s brightest ray come to flesh, but there was no truth in the promises of men who couldn’t see past her beauty, and at the end of the day, Silvana was Shienaran and craved truth and honesty like flowers needed sunlight and water.

One had been different from the others. Or at least that was what he had claimed, and what Silvana had believed. The promises he had made had seemed tangible, like little bundles of hope that might not vanish into thin air like everything else, and Silvana had devoured them like a woman starving. His kisses had been fire and ice, his caresses enough to drive her caution away. Her carneira, her big idiot of an Andorman who had seen deeper than skin and thought her a treasure in spirit as well as flesh. Oh Braden… Silvana turned back to her glass and took another sip of the spicy wine that burned on her tongue like glowing embers. At first everything had been utterly insane, their passion a wildfire that could not be quenched. Somewhere in the midst of that madness she had accepted his proposal of marriage and been blissfully happy for a while. He had driven her crazy, she hadn’t had the will or the strength to tell him no, her parents had adored his spontaneous, affectionate, decent character, and the tide of general approval had swept Silvana away before she had properly realised what was happening to her.

Now, however, back in Tar Valon and occupied by her old routines, Braden always busy with his training, Silvana's head was slowly starting to clear, and she was starting to get second thoughts at an alarming speed.

The problem was that the big oaf drove her crazy in other ways that were far less pleasant, too. His spontaneity had two sides, and Silvana could stomach just one of them. His shows of affection were cute and adorable, but his child-like confidence about Silvana automatically agreeing with him about the mighty plans he had for their future together was anything but. Braden claimed that he respected her views and opinions, but in truth he did not. In truth, he barely listened to her at all, so wrapped up in his own ideas as he was! And that was not the end of it, oh Light how Silvana sometimes wished it had been. He seemed to have an endless supply of love and affection that he doled out by the bucketload without even realising what he was doing, and somehow expected everyone else to do the same. Expected her to do the same, even though it went completely against her nature. And the worst of it, the very worst, was that as far as Silvana could tell, he wasn’t even aware that she was struggling with it and getting less and less certain of her own wants and needs by the day.

Some days were worse than others, and occasionally Silvana couldn’t help but feel that Braden’s overwhelming love was like a rope around her neck, tightening a little more every time she moved, and making it more and more difficult for her to breathe. His affection left her no room to figure out her own true feelings, and as the days went past, Silvana was getting more and more uncertain. Wouldn't it be so much easier if she just shook him off and went back to the life she had known before he had come along? Silvana found herself thinking about that more and more often these days, especially since it seemed that Braden, too, was getting a little edgy about this betrothal. Everything Braden said or did was getting to be a problem, and they had been fighting a lot lately. Silvana was starting to feel trapped and cornered here in Tar Valon, and desperately wanted a break of some kind, a chance to draw a deep breath without Braden hovering over her with a concerned expression on his honest face. A change of pace and scenery, even if it was just for a while.

A journey to Andor, for example. Among Braden's grand plans, there was one that Silvana considered quite wise, and going through with it might give her the space and time she needed to figure things out. With the sole exception of his aunt Senara, Silvana had not met a single member of his family yet, and another aspect of her Shienaran upbringing demanded that she make the acquaintance of his parents and brothers before marrying him. It made perfect sense. Family was important, and meeting his nearest and dearest would tell Silvana a great many truths about him, too. If it turned out that she could not stand the sight of his family or vice versa, backing out of the betrothal would be the only right thing to do. And if things turned out well, marrying him would probably feel... easier, somehow.

Talking to someone might help, too, and Silvana knew it. It was just that there really wasn't anyone she could turn to with such matters. Mistress Kariko's opinions she already knew, aunt Kristal would only say something that created a dozen new questions for her, and Krion wasn't even an option. Silvana knew her brother would listen and probably even provide an answer of some kind, but being Braden's best friend, he was in a nasty position when it came down to Silvana and Braden's relationship. And then there wasn't anyone else. Silvana had no real friends in Tar Valon, and everyone else she could think of already had a firm opinion about this marriage. Talking to complete outsiders wasn't the way to go about it either, since the matter was far too personal to spread around.

She would just have to figure things out on her own, then. It was nothing new. Silvana put down her paintbrush, took a seat by the window and just sat there sipping her wine and considering her options for a long time. Finally, she put the glass down and sighed in resignation. There was really just one conclusion she could arrive at. She'd follow Braden to Andor and see how things turned out there before making her final decision about whether or not to marry him. She truly hoped the journey would help her find out what it was that she really wanted.