“It was not you.” she whispered, placing her hand atop his that rested on her cheek. “In all my life, I have done nothing without the supervision of another. I never had a choice or a say in anything. All of my decisions were decided for me. And then, I was told that I was to be wed to a man who I have always called, friend, and move to a country of which my feet have never touched. For once, before all of my freedom was spirited away, I had to see this world that we are to share together, with my own eyes. …I wanted to see your home with my own sight.”

“And so you came here, to Calico.” he stated.

“Yes.”

He smiled, sadly. “So, do you like it here?”

“It…is not Kitwa,” she admitted, “but,” she added, squeezing his hand, tenderly, “I have grown to love this land…and its people.”

For the first time, he looked up at her, into the green eyes that he had fallen in love with years ago. He gave the hand that was safe in his a squeeze and held it tight, yet tenderly. “Amarah, I…I…”

“Yes…?” she whispered.

“Amarah…if you wish…if it is your desire to…to refrain from being my wife,” he sighed, “I will understand. I won’t hold you to our arrangement.”

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