Towers of Midnight by Robert Jordan and Brandon Sanderson
Before long, they were making dust along the road. Thom stepped up beside Mat, watching the riders. "Sweetbuns?" "Tradition among us Two Rivers folk." "Never heard of that tradition." "It’s very obscure." "Ah, I see. And what did you do to those buns?" "Sprinklewort," Mat said. "It’ll turn her mouth blue for a week, maybe two. And she won’t share the sweetbuns with anyone, except maybe her Warders. Joline is addicted to the things. She must have eaten seven or eight bags’ worth since we got to Caemlyn." "Nice," Thom said, knuckling his mustache. "Childish, though." "I’m trying to get back to my basic roots," Mat said. "You know, recapture some of my lost youth." "You’re barely twenty winters old!" "Sure, but I did a lot of living when I was younger. Come on. Mistress Anan is staying, and that gives me an idea."