You know her by the crown before you know her name, a golden hawk in flight, worn the way other women wear certainty. She came to Rand first, calm and deliberate, certain a Dragon Reborn was worth the risk. He was not moved. Mat, she never bothered with; he wasn't worth the effort of trying. Perrin came later, and proved harder to read, which only made her more determined.
Faile did not share him gracefully. It took Rhuarc, unimpressed by both of them, to step between two furious women and end it, not as a diplomat settling a dispute between equals, but the way a father settles a squabble between children who ought to know better.
She never apologizes for wanting what she wants. She has simply learned, again and again, that wanting isn't the same as having.