How many days had she languished in her prison, praying he had not abandoned her?
How many nights did he sleep in his hovel, totally convinced he would never again see her violet eyes?
Now, she wore a fine gown and an emerald pendant in the shape of a teardrop rested between her breasts. A shave and a fine suit could not hide his rogue's charm. They clasped hands, smiled, and felt young again.
Their exile was over.
The priestess beamed with pride. “We are gathered here today to renew the vows of Empress Ozma Galinda and Ahamo the Seeker...”