There was another aspect, however, that she had taken to using to her benefit. That was the loss of the tell-tale agelessness that had been like the smooth lines of a statue upon her features for so many decades.
Now, she looked like a woman. To look at her, someone would place her in her forties, perhaps, but still handsome. The threads of silver wound through her auburn hair and gave it a faint sheen. Her blue-green eyes no longer peered out of a block of ivory, but simply the face of a woman...and oh, she liked that. She had missed it.
For how often in the latter decades of her life--both those leading up to her death, and certainly those after her resurrection--had she just wished to be looked on as a woman? As a human? She was a creature burdened by her own reputation. She had no desire to be a legend in her own time. This woman was born to a farm, and had never aspired to the life she had been given.
Did she regret it? Never. Would she change it had she the chance? At times, maybe she'd say yes. But more often than not, no. She had much pain and sorrow in her years, and certainly her share of destruction, but she knew that she had done good in the world. People lived who would not have without her actions; there were evils that would still thrive had she not ended them.
So no, she neither regretted nor resented her life. But that did not mean she enjoyed all that came with it.
And now that her face no longer screamed the truth of her to the world, she took advantage of it.
This advantage frequently came in the form of trips to Hama Valon. Even with the springing up of this entire Tower-centric city, the Band of Brothers Inn remained just as it was. She had loved to come here when she was young, truly young, and she could once again enjoy it as she used to. Her features could now afford her some anonymity.
If anyone recognized her, it was because she was Miahala and they knew her. Not because she was Aes Sedai.
Coming here for a night of music and drink, oftentimes a dance, and simple relaxation was just what she needed that night. So much, it seemed, had been happening of late that she now just needed some time to...be.
Tonight, she was dressed in a way that hearkened back to those early days of her Tower life. In truth, she might have been mistaken for a serving girl--in her white blouse, green corset top and full skirt--but for the high quality of the outfit, her age, and the clear and commanding presence that surrounded her.
When she arrived, she walked straight to the bar and smiled at the bartender. He was known to her, and she to him. He was already pouring her a glass of spiced cider. She paid for it and then carried it to a table at the edge of the dance floor, where she sipped it and watched the dancers swirling around the floor to the musicians' lively tunes.
She recalled her youth before she even came to the Tower--her brother playing while she danced at the local tavern. The very thing that her mother had cast her out of the house for, and allowed her to land here...
"May I have this dance, milady?" a masculine voice from above asked her.
Miahala lifted her eyes to see a man--not quite young, but younger than she herself appeared to be--standing beside her. He had a polite smile and his eyes did not hold the glassiness of a drunk. One hand was behind his back as he bowed slightly, holding out the other. She had seen him there before, but they had never spoken.
She put her hand in his and rose to her feet. "I would enjoy that," she said smoothly, letting him lead her to the floor as a new song began...
- Spoiler: show