eyes thoughtful. "They're
embroidered."
"I'm not very good at that sort of thing," Kalena explained hurriedly. "So I didn't make the Rs very
large."
Ridge continued to stare down at the embroidery. Kalena had used a dark brown thread to contrast the
neutral color of the wool. Wonderingly, he stroked one of the letters with the tip of his thumb. "I've never
worn an embroidered shirt."
Kalena cleared her throat, feeling ridiculously nervous. "Yes, well, after you examine my workmanship
under a good light, you might not want to wear these. I wish you good evening, Ridge." She took a step
backward.
"Wait." His head came up quickly, a small frown darkening his eyes.
"Yes, Ridge?"
"Thank you, Kalena. Your work is beautiful. I shall wear the shirts with pride."
She grinned at that. "No need to exaggerate."
His expression relaxed into one tinged with humor. "I take it needlework is not your favorite pastime?"
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Kalena wrinkled her nose. "Weren't there any tasks you had to master while growing up that you would
just as soon never have learned?"
The amusement faded from his eyes. "There are definitely some things I wish I had never had to learn,
Kalena. Sometimes we have no choice, do we?"
"No," she whispered. "Sometimes we have no choice in what we must master." She took another step
away from him, summoning a smile of polite farewell.
He studied her shadowed face for a moment. "Are you afraid of our coming venture together, Kalena?"
Surprised at the question, she just looked at him for a moment. Oh, yes, she thought silently, she was
afraid. She was now beginning to realize just how afraid of her task she really was. Her whole future
hinged on committing an act of horrible violence. How could she not be afraid? Failure meant being
forever disgraced; success meant she would be a murderess. But she had no choice. She must claim her
own future.
"Have I reason to fear, Ridge?" she countered aloud.
"It would be only natural for a young woman in your position to be a little nervous, I think," Ridge said
earnestly. "But I promise to take good care of you on the journey."
Kalena was touched by the sincerity she saw behind his words. She could hardly tell him he wouldn't
have to worry about being burdened with her on the trip, so she just smiled again. "Thank you, Ridge. I
trust the journey will go well."
He coughed slightly as she once more made to leave. "Uh, Kalena, I didn't mean I would just take care
of you on the journey, itself."
"Yes, Ridge?" she prompted, a little confused by his obvious awkwardness. Ridge was not normally a
hesitant man by any stretch of the imagination.
"I meant," he plowed on stolidly, "that I will be a good trade husband to you."
"Oh." She didn't know what else to say. Kalena was painfully aware of the warmth rising on her cheeks
and was grateful for the shadows. He was having a difficult time and she almost felt sorry for him. "Thank
you for the reassurance," she managed to say dryly.
"Dammit, Kalena, I'm making a poor job of this. What I'm trying to say is, you won't have cause to
regret signing the trade marriage agreement with me instead of some other man." His big hands tightened
on the folded shirts. "And thank you for the fine needlework," he concluded gruffly.
"You're welcome, Ridge." This time Kalena made good her escape, although she was conscious of
Ridge standing in the doorway of his room watching her until she slipped safely into her own apartment.
When she glanced back one last time she thought he was looking down at his shirts, his expression oddly
pleased.
The Fire Whip was not looking at all pleased as evening fell the following day. He encountered Kalena
as she waited in the wide, tiled entry hall of the house for the arrival of Arrisa and her friends. In honor of
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the
Dean Wesley Smith, Kristine Kathryn Rusch
Martin A. Lee, Bruce Shlain