Another Love: “I sat alone in my room, bathing my cheeks in tears until they changed to the color of a deep and mournful saffron. Ten thousand knives cut my heart to a stream of ribbons, and still more lacerated me from within. My misery had no end, and when the doorkeeper entered my chambers to inform me a man wanted to see me, I did not care. I asked, ‘What news does he have? Either this one or another messenger. What difference is it to me?’ The answer he gave would not matter, though my duties as Amirbar forced me to address the man.”