#amara mutar

"You must stay and eat with us. Bek is cooking now if you would care to sample dishes of Menei?" Nesrin's body lit with excitement. She had only ever sampled a few simple things from some of the traders that passed through Mizraa. Nothing so involved as a meal. When she glanced at Reyhan, the fire mage dipped her head. Nesrin smiled brightly. "I would love that." pg.314

“Yes you do, son of the Second House. You have built too many walls in your own mind with that ice of yours.” She relaxed back into her chair, regarding him with a neutral expression. He bristled, but did not reply immediately, instead channeling that energy into refilling his coffee. “I cannot help the ice,” he mumbled into his cup as he lifted it to cover his scowl. Amara tipped her head sideways in concession. “But the walls,” she said, gently, pushing. “She said nothing of interest?” He’d come to find out more about Nesrin, not have his own mind picked apart. pg.247-248

“I see,” Amara said. “I had hoped you might be interested in assisting me in my work with the refugee camps. It would do them, and the city, much good to see someone of high rank in the palace working toward a mutual good.” “Oh! Yes I would love to.” Nesrin barreled through the response without thinking, and before Reyhan’s flared gaze could stop her. pg.241

She gave a pleased sound and turned, pausing to look back at him. “Forgive me for saying so, Sehzade, but your vine seems limp.” His gaze shot to hers, and she gave him a vulpine smile as she pointed to something beside him. He glanced and saw the potted plant he kept there. A failed experiment. He glowered at her and she laughed in glee as she shut the door behind her. pg.223

“What happened?” he demanded, more harshly than he had meant to. He continued through the room to his desk. He turned then, leaning back against it, arms folded. Amara stood just inside the doorway, taking in the office with a raised eyebrow and judgmental silence. She was good at that. Shrinking him with just a look. “I think that is the kindest thing I have ever seen you do, Sehzade.” She looked at him curiously, as though reassessing him. He chaffed under her measure. “Answer my question.” She sniffed dismissal of his prickliness. “Another mob, trying to loot a supply wagon for the northern camp. It’s the third time in just as many turns. This one was the biggest crowd I’ve seen yet. And the most unreasonable. There was a mother with children, one still a babe in arms,” Amara said. “Is the family all right?” “The father was beaten, and has injuries as you would expect. The mother and children were spared injury because she”—Amara swept a gesture to indicate Nesrin in the other room—“used her body as a shield. The man who did that to her is on his way to the Cliffs.” Ihsan pressed his thumb between his brows, his eyes going to the floor. “Why would she do that?" “Because she is decent and brave?” Amara suggested. Was she? Was she gentle and selfless and brave? Or was she something else—something that belonged to Kadir and his schemes? What was worse? That she was an actress and a spy…or humane, and kind? pg.222

"Just be grateful she is clothed," Ihsan murmured. Aysel snickered as Makram looked at him askance. pg.28

Amara's likeness smiled serenely. "A pleasure to finally meet you, Rahal Charah." Makram reached forward in boyish wonder, as if he meant to poke the water figure. Ihsan grabbed his wrist. "Your power will sever my link," he said, in a tone he thought might sound apologetic. pg.28