You will find, perhaps, that black roses are not the most desirable of flowers.

And that's what Moiraine had replied.

The words seem faraway and faded, like something he read in a book long ago. While this is like a dream; a dream he's had a thousand times, finally coming true.

He can feel a smile crawling over his face. It seems entirely unconnected to himself. "I see. So that's how it is."

"What do you want in exchange?"